The boy continued staring at the empty space that wasn't empty. Air surrounded him, invisible oxygen that he couldn't see but was nevertheless vital. And of course, the creature was there.
"Hello?" he called tentatively.
"Hello," called the voice of a young girl. The water stirred around the hole in the water, and a female form appeared. "I'm sorry," she said. "I was just curious."
The boy continued to stare. The girl had hair the color of flame and a smile like no other. He was particularly worried about her sharp teeth.
She laughed, a sound like breaking glass, and...
The plumber did not arrive on time. Later I found out he'd been fishing in Plantation Lake, that place near Kingswood with the wooden shack, boats for hire and nasty looking employees that always gave me the shivers.
Luckily I managed to run the hot taps and circumvented a disaster with the overflow. Called in sick so I could monitor the situation, spent most of the time going between the bathroom, tv and excercise bike.
Tom, the plumber never did fix the problem. He drowned, his line tangled with something the few available witnesses described as 'unexplainable to identify'.
An...
Charles looked at the man across from him, poor man john, he had all the reason in the world to do it—homeless, no job, no family—he needed the money.
"Face it, John, we know you did it."
"No," John said, sweat beading on his brow, "I didn't, that old lady just can't admit she doesn't know where she put those Bonds."
"We have you on a security camera, you took the Bonds out of her car while she ate at the restaurant." Detective Cahrles said, "Where are they?"
"In the barn on timplton's property."
The mob held torches like flags, upright and proud, ready for battle with the onion factory. Sons, mothers, daughters, friends, marched on toward revenge. They threw their torches onto the large building, sending smoke signals for miles, saying "we're in charge here!"
For weeks, the town smelled like onions. At first, people sniffed their clothes to make sure it didn't come from their home cooked meals "People" here meaning the people who didn't boycott onions altogether. Most people substituted elephant garlic or onion powder, or just went without the taste. One girl started vomitting at the sight of onions altogether....
Candace wants all her glasses to look half-full, but Martin can't stop complaining. He's tried to keep his mouth shut when work is too busy and when he gets cut off on the road, he sometimes count from ten out loud.
But generally, Candace is too fat (thick!) and their house keeps feeling smaller (cozy!) with all of the things she hoards (collects!) that he's prone to throw some of the junk (trinkets!) at the wall in hopes that they shatter. When she sweeps up the mess, she hums the chimney sweep song from Mary Poppins.
Once a month, she...
You had me at ox bow lake, knee deep in dark water. "It's not so bad, right?" you said.
"It's no Jersey Shore," I said, "But I guess it's not that bad."
You crouched so that you were neck deep in dark water. "You gotta get your whole body in."
Then, a gunshot. I spun around quick and covered my breasts with my forearm. I heard you laughing behind me.
"City girls. Can't take em nowhere." You leaned back and did a halfhearted backstroke. "Just a hunter probably." I sunk in a little more. "Come on," you said. "Come swim."...
You know damn well the head is in the box. You know damn well how this movie will end. But her legs are across yours and she shaved. They're smooth like you could have only guessed, because in winter she was all jeans and tights.
You've been hovering with your hand on her knee and she's so into this damn movie that you've seen one hundred times. She hasn't mentioned that she thinks about sleeping with Brad Pitt, but you see the way her eyes get when he comes on screen. She has yet to give you those eyes, but...
I will put my fingers together and pull the grass up from the roots. I will do it before my mother comes outside. If I don't she'll ask "what have you been doing out here all this time?" But if I do, I'll have something to show for myself. I'll give her the stalks of grass as if they are flowers. She may thank me, but she more likely will wonder why I bothered to dig up the good grass.
I will move away from home one day soon. I will plant a garden where I live. I will make...
The key couldn't break.
Forged by the hand of fate
In the fires of adversity
Her love would mold
The white-hot metal
Into the shape it was meant to take
Then
Cooled by her touch
Quenched with desire
It would unlock
Anything
The stories rarely stop when the party does.
He was not tall, or lean, but he was fashionable. He had the bushiest eyebrows, like tiny mink stoles pasted to his forehead, and a strange (but familiar) teetering gate to his walk as he meandered like a river through the empty park lawns.
"I hope I didn't insult her," the man worried to himself as he kicked an empty potato chip bag across the path. He spotted a bench looking out over the old friend, duck pond.
There our lonely man sat. Contemplating the emptiness of it all. No ducks, even....