I waited on the corner of Drake Street and Something. I shielded my eyes from the bright gray to see the paintings on the panes.
I waited a few feet from the corner of Drake Street and Something and could not see the rain puddles hug the curbs in passing.
I waited on the wrong corner of Drake Street. We all waited on the wrong corner of Drake Street. It was so quiet on the right street, we could have heard a pin drop into a rain puddle and rush ahead of us into the future.
I waited on the...
He didn't know what to say. No one did. It had never landed on anyone's finger before. The fabled winged bug, unlike any other on this planet, stayed away from all lifeforms. Of course there were stories about what would happen if it actually did touch someone, and he guessed he was about to find out. Would he die? Would untold riches come his way? Would he become the most famous person on Terra 12?
The bug, which felt lighter than a feather in his hand, looked up at him. He couldn't help but wonder what it thought. Or did...
Lola. That was the name of my new girlfriend. The one my friends all warned me not to get involved with. But of course, it was my life and she had been through so much already.
Bi-polar mother, alcoholic father, maladjusted siblings. Not really surprising Lola cut herself, gambled her benefits on the arcade machines and didn't eat much apart from dried Chinese noodles you boil in a cup.
Now that she knew that someone loved her, all this would change. She could pursue her artistic abilities, finish those novels, sleep at nights instead of watching movies and worry about...
"What's that, Daddy?"
James hid a smile behind his hand and answered, "That's a telephone, sweetie. You put money in it to make it work."
"Nuh-uh. It's too big. See?" She pointed to his cell in his hand.
"It's from before cell phones."
She rolled her eyes and walked away, her four-year-old way of telling him he was nuts, and the conversation was over.
James chuckled, picked up the handset, and put it to his ear. He did it basically to show her that it really was a phone in case she turned around. What happened, though, froze his blood....
"I don't care if I get wet!"
Eric snatched at her hand, but Angel quickly pulled away. She let her hand extend beyond the umbrella's translucent canopy, its special shielding against radiation and chemical contaminants having been turned off despite Eric's warnings.
"You can't do that!" he cried.
"Why not?" she said. "It's been years since the fallout. Why use this stupid shield anyway? What difference does it make if things APPEAR normal?"
Tears streaked her lover's face, but he said nothing.
Disgusted with the futility of it all, she hit another button on the handle and turned off his...
On the journey back from the Reichenbach Falls, Sherlock Holmes began writing his memoirs. The book was sent to a trusted friend and kept hidden until 2013 when it was accidentally found in an attic.
John Watson was clearing out his uncle's house, lugging down old boxes of musty clothes, books and Christmas decorations down the rickety ladder and throwing everything into the skip on the driveway.
The book fell out on top of his paint stained trainers. Something about the handwriting caught his attention. He's just read a book on graphology and thought it would be interesting to see...
My email has been compromised, nevermind, nothing I write or receive is of any importance. The girl on the bench was full of self pity, having one of those 'the world is against me' moments we all get when we have too much free time and not enough to do. Usually by choice as usually there is too much that needs to be done but we prefer to surf the internet, read self help, watch tv or simply drink ourselves to oblivion, overwhelmed at the mess we ignore.
Jodie was a successful fantasy fiction writer, had a reliable good looking...
In hindsight, the solution was obvious. That was Holmes' skill. His "parlour trick" as some victims had described it. I'd seen his leaps of faith, inspired deductions and uncanny conclusions many times. And yet the inevitable unlocking of the puzzle was always obscured from me until Sherlock lifted the veil of smoke from his beloved pipe.
Sometimes it took more than one pipe. Sometimes as many as three. In this case, the unstated conundrum set by his brother, Mycroft, had consumed five refills. It might have broken new ground, but the tobacco slipper had been returned empty to its customary...
When I lost my mother in the store, I was only three years old. I can't remember what happened but I still wake up in a sweat most nights, an innate sense of abandonment, as though I have been on a mission to the moon, stepped outside the spaceship for a walk across the lunar landscape and left behind. Terror.
Mother never recovered from her fear. She spent the rest of my childhood in a daze from a mix of prescription pill cocktails, agrophobia and alcohol. Dangerous combinations.
She was currently in a secure medical facility, unrecognisable from the pretty...
I have anxiety issues okay? I swear every time I come here its the same goddamn thing. All I need is to walk, so I approach the edge and give myself a minuscule pep-talk. "You can do it George, just a couple of steps", every day its the same thing and everyday.. I chicken out. I know, I know, ha.ha. very funny but this is a serious problem! How am I supposed to go anywhere in my short life when I literally can't go anywhere. Every time I approach that curb, the cars seeming to fly by, horns honking and...