I was all wrong. This wasn't the spot I thought we buried her. Jason was in front of me pointing left, and the sky was darkening. My mind was all over the fucking place. He's pointing left, when I swear we buried her right by this patch of weird leaves that looked like lettuce. Still, Jason swore that we needed to head left more. Really, when you commit such a crime, and forget where you buried the body, needing to go back to get it because you "accidentally" left the weapon right by the body, possibly with your prints... going...
My mother toils under the assumption that she is beautifully imperfect but the world should be perfect. She reacts to news like a small child. Living in the moment with the belief that what is going on now will be what goes on forever. I am her child and I am the same.
We slump together from depression to remission, my mother and I. We stay on the couch for days at a time drinking wine, eating Oreos, and watching reality television. Then Mom gets an alimony check or I finally land a job interview and the fever breaks. We...
She'd have preferred the electric chair, at least that one bloody moved. She could get up a good speed on that one, maybe she could get out of it, escape their sympathetic looks. It was bad enough losing the power in your legs without their condescending looks. Idiots.
Apparently it was a "power chair", but, frankly, bollocks to that. Jokingt that she was living out a death sentence was one of her few pleasures left - that terror in their eyes, the "oh god how do we respond to that" was what she was living for right now.
Actually, that...
As he wandered through the countryside, he couldn't quite believe he'd done it. He'd done it. Gene Black had actually done it. Finally. And although it had been something he had been planning for months, years, maybe his whole life, he didn't feel quite as good as he thought he would.
He had dreamed of being a murderer for as long as he could remember. He had wanted to feel life draining away in his hands, to watch as the soul departed the body. If it did. It was all about experimentation and, perhaps understandably, there was nothing he could...
I had been running for just over an hour, almost breathless. Whose idea was it to train for this marathon anyways? I've always liked running, but never really enjoyed it, you know? There are only so many routes you can take. This time, I decided to say screw the concrete jungle, I'm going to take this somewhere different. So I took to the hills, as they say. Not gonna lie, it was much more interesting than running on pavement. The damp grass under my shoes, the crunching of the twigs, all that good stuff. I stopped at the top of...
He'd sat patiently on the threshold of the kitchen all afternoon. She'd dropped countless morsels of crust, of walnuts, chunks of apple and even some of her own snacks, the clumsy klutz. Yet he'd abstained, withheld, conquered himself.
Now she was taunting him -- he felt it deep in his soul. She'd left the pies to cool -- small round pies, aromatic sweet pies -- at eye level. His eyes. She'd gone from the house (where? did it matter?) and left him to conquer himself.
Taunting his resolve. He thought to his mother who'd trained him in her ascetic ways....
He hadn't wanted the light there.
She had insisted - there was light on her, light on her voice, lifting her up, letting them all see her. He was playing too (had a solo during one of the songs, actually) so why shouldn't they see him?
He'd tried to protest that it wasn't traditional, and she'd just given him one of those looks, the one that made him certain that if ever (...when) she did get signed the record label wouldn't be able to force her into one of those moulds they seemed so fond of.
He'd stood his ground,...
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...
I know, I know, there's a million things I need to do. Every day, a million things. Check this, talk to him, to her. Don't forget to fill this out. Drive there, don't forget. Get it right the first time so you don't lose more time doing it twice. Or worse.
Only at the end of the day, is it legal to relax. Only when the world is on half-time, lunch break, dinner break, time out, penalty box.
The sun is one big green light for everyone. You can't stop when the world is go.
If I didn't want to...
Being punched in the face for the first time is always a shock. Even with the gloves, it still hurts, and that mouth guard, well, sometimes it does mor harm than good.
I staggered against the rails and spit into the bucket, feeling around with my tongue. Are my teeth in tact? Yes.
"You out, Sam?" Called the ref.
"No!" I yell, adjusting my bandana and flying towards my opponent again. For a little thing, she is surprisingly strong and fast. She lands an uppercut and swift solar plexus blow that leaves me winded before plowing me over.
She pulls...