I knew that I could rely on her. No matter what the task, no matter how impossible the time frame or the scope of the task involved, she would get it done as quickly as humanly possible, and generally with a smile on her face, although sometimes she could look a little harrassed when I told her things needed to be done immediately. Producing 175 photocopies of a document which needed to be physically taken to six different areas all within 45 minutes and still whilst answering the phone and dealing with enquirers had been a little bit unreasonable, I...
She stood on the crest of the largest sand dune, her hair streaming in the fierce breeze that had sprung up overnight. The view was stunning, overlooking dunes, common, sea, beach and surrounding cliffs, with the odd lighthouse visible on the distant coastline.
"I have had enough !" she screamed into the wind. "All the constant miserable bickering, the backbiting, the barbed comments, the selfishness, the grumbling under the breath and slamming of doors. I am not going to put up with it any more!" Having vented her anger and frustration, she walked slowly back home, wondering what she was...
Kenya. She said her name was Kenya.
And then she laughed. I couldn't hear it, not over the music in the bar, not over the shouting of everyone around us. But I saw the laugh, starting in her stomach, and traveling up and out of her mouth.
She leaned closer and said that her parents had grown up with Black Power and Africa awareness, and decided to name her Kenya. That they had grounded her the first time she straightened her hair.
Her voice, the part of her voice I could hear, had a huskiness to it that really appealed...
In the Kiliswa village, status depended upon how many bricks you could carry at once. If you put down any of your bricks, even for a second, you would immediately be pounced upon by your rivals.
It was a harsh life. It wore at you, carrying gigantic piles of bricks everywhere you went, day and night. Only the strongest survived; the rest perished.
Among the strongest were Ja and Na, twin brothers whose parents had died from carrying too many bricks at once (a twin pregnancy was especially hard, for the mother must carry her additional weight AND her bricks...
There once was a man they called Water
Who read far too much Harry Potter
But it wasn't the same
When after Harry he named
Both his sons and his trio of daughters
The Moon would never be the same again. Not after the things I saw, the things I knew that were hiding there. I could never again look up at night without a shudder, without averting my eyes from the horror of it.
The Moon's sickly light, reflected sunlight turned mocking and wrong, crept in through my shuttered windows. I had taken to taping them up, afraid to go out at night, afraid of what might be there.
They walked down on moonbeams, those horrible things with too many angles, walked down and fed. I remember the first time I saw...
The water was clear. "I cannot be stopped, I shall continue."
The stone was implacable. "I am stone, I have been here for millions of years, not some come by night dribble. And I shall not be moved.
But the water was clear, the water would be moved, eventually. Through ten seasons and ten seasons more, the water made it's argument, and every drip, every gush, every freeze, its argument was stronger, and one season, the water continued, and the stone was nothing more than ten thousand grains of sand, each with its own mind, no longer implacable. The stone...
General Hutchison stroked his jaw pensively. "So this - what do you call it?"
"SR-33, sir. The soldier robot, 33rd prototype."
"Took you 33 tries to get it right, huh?"
Mr. Raoul ignored the general's attempt at humor. "You'll find that it's just as capable of understanding and carrying out orders as one of your own men, sir, but its reflexes are faster, its senses are sharper, and it isn't afraid of death."
"Sounds like the perfect soldier, son," Hutchison remarked. "So this SR-33, have there been any of them programming glitches with it?"
"No sir, the operating system has...
The noises that, at first, filled every pocket of air, immediately and harmoniously silenced. The overcast sky of smog and gas cracked open like chick which has been waiting weeks to hatch, the yellow feathers shined through. And all was quiet. The men did not speak, they dropped their arms, but their guns' falls were muted by this minute of peace. Even the men dared not to speak. Enemies were no longer so, there was no definition between men, just as there are no barriers between the birds which were the first to make a sound. A song which awoke...
Kids cuddle everything and aren't afraid of anything. One time, I fell asleep, and woke up in the arms of a toad. Another time, I was dreaming and thought I had received a personal relationship with non-Euclidian geometry, but in reality, I had been eaten by an alligator. Oh well, third time's the charm, right? How many snuggle-happy toads and princess-devouring alligators can there really be in the world? The odds against ever encountering such a thing are astronomically low, even in the soft, cottony arms of a drug-induced stupor.
They say that dreams are messages from God, and I...