I, Emily Agha just received my acceptance to UNSW and flowers from my beloved fiancee. Everything was going well. My fiancee and her where driving home until suddenly Josh went to fast. He may have been drunk. One little mistake can turn into a big one. "I'll always remember you Josh". I don't remember much from that night, all I remember is the sound of sirens, a few heartbeats and Josh's voice telling me he was sorry. His last words were "find someone, please." I'm thirty now and am still single. I still have all his bits and bobs that...
The city was empty. The day had swept by on the brush of a filthy broom, skittering over the edge of the world. We were happy.
But we'd always secretly reveled in disaster situations. When the status-quo was torn asunder, that's when we came alive. It was the status quo that we couldn't deal with.
The last bits of ash were falling out of the sky. The TV said that this might be the end of it. But they also said it might not. Storm clouds at night make the world all that much darker. So we lit our candles,...
Through the veil she was almost as pretty as I'd wished she would have been the first time we met for real, in real life, in person on the street. The love of my life.
I remembered that in certain photographs she had this quality, like an angel or maybe just someone who thought they were one, so strung out they could touch the sky. She wasn't that pretty, no pixie dust queen, just another girl who liked to make faces. But I think I love her.
You hope that, and I hoped that, the love of my life--because that's...
I was staring. I could feel myself doing to but I couldn't stop. I was transfixed.
We had met only three days ago and already I just knew that she had made an impression. Although until this moment, I had no idea just how much.
Her skin was flawless marble. Her frame slender and perfectly proportioned. Her hair long, thick and silky.
She was perfect.
Even now, as took off her clothes and showed me her secret.
The giant red scar cutting into her side.
She wasn't ready to tell me where it had come from, but I was okay...
Please do not ask me to write some fluffy SciFi romance. Nothing will have changed by 2070. I will probably still be alive, I will probably still have this fucking job.
Remember when you hired me, based on the screenplay in my application? I worked hard on Zilly and Jack. For years, my every step was fueled by the thought of Zilly and Jack seamlessly executed on a Broadway stage. (A production, I mean, not a beheading.)
"Such wit!" you exclaimed. "Such cutting-edge quirks! We love the way Zilly listens to movie soundtracks while she studies BioChem! Dun Dun DUN!"...
"Ugh," Shiloh said, rolling her eyes over the steaming cup of coffee that she had been holding for the last twenty minutes.
Her boyfriend Micah looked across the table and couldn't help but let out a very quiet laugh. "What?" he asked, still laughing as he did.
"Don't what me," she replied softly, shaking her head as she took a very long sip of her still piping hot coffee. "Don't, Micah. You know exactly what that ugh was for."
After Micah had graduated from university with a degree in chemical engineering, he had convinced himself that he didn't want a...
They were listening. From somewhere distant, came the familiar sounds of gunshots, stone-throwing, angry slogans. But here it was quiet- deserted streets, shut down shops, boarded windows and houses so dead that they wouldn't be out of place in a graveyard.It was safe to be here. Nobody would mind, nobody would bother. They flitted out in the glorious sunshine of a bright day, trying to ignore the smell of dried blood mingled with the fragrance of the lake, the trees and the mountains. The pigeons of Srinagar were not worried about the curfew.
I liked Erica, but Daddy didn't. She did everything for him, like the man on the advert said she would, and it had meant I wouldn't have to anymore.
She had mousy hair and it fell around her pale face in curls. She always smiled at me with her pretty eyes and high cheek bones, and at Daddy. Though he would never smile back.
Erica was always sweet and loving and kind, just like Mummy had been.
I still feel sad when I think of Mummy sometimes. Especially when I happened to brush Erica's skin. It was cold. Not like...
"Rush! Hurry! We must get off the street before anyone realizes we've left. "
"Mummy, why?"
"Because I said so."
"Because he's bleeding, Mum? Is that why?" I grasped the edge of her suitcase, let it carry me along, my feet nearly leaving the ground. Breathless, visions of things much different from sugar plums. Blood. Screams, a distant siren, the smell of cordite. Done. Rush! Move! NOW! Hungry, what, no time. Leave the cat.
Down the stairs, falling, falling, falling out onto the cobblestones. Scent of mum's sweat mixed with tobacco, and the stench of death. Train sounds. Off to...
She knew that she would find him here. It was his escape, the place he came to find peace. It was quiet and he was rolling up alone, up and down the rink. first with the jack, then with his favourite woods, he never tired of it.
'Dad!' she called.
'Hello, Nicola. I won't be a moment.'
She watched as he bent slowly and lifted his woods, tucking them into the crook of his arm. he slipped the jack into his pocket and patted is to make sure it was safe. According to Dad, you couldn't leave a jack lying...