The gods used the lake as their mirror, reflecting their beauty along its still waters, awash with azure skies and billowing clouds of purest white. The earth goddess tolerated their use of her lake, because it suited her. The heavenly colors complimented her own, golden shores and the brown shining mountains that surrounded the blue waters. If only the heavens could grant her wish, she would trade places with the gods of the sky and walk upon her own shores. As maudlin thoughts filled her like the waters of that same lake, she changed her mind and only wished to...

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Marchiel? is that a boy's name

Dunno, it is French I think

French, right so we are looking for a possibly French possibly male or possibly female person?

Sums it up

Boned

Yep

Tell me again what were Francis's exact words?

Find me Marchiel, find me the black rose

Nothing else?

He was yelling, you know how he gets

Yeah, shit look do you think we oughta just blow. Because it aint looking like we are gonna be making Francis too happy anytime soon.

Let's ask some questions first

I suppose

Boned?

Yep

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"Quack quack quack!"

*Translation: OH NO! BP!

"Quack quack quack quack."

*Translation: I'll have to move to another pond now...

"Quack quack..."

*Translation: Stupid #$#@%$%$#^#$ humans.

"Quack quack quack..."

*Translation: Or maybe I'll just steal all their rubber duckies. See how they like losing something.

"QUAAAACKKK!"

*Translation: MWAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

Mr Duckie went to become the Robin Hook of all ducks, stealing rubber duckies from all the human children and all the grownups who still like flotation toys. Right now he has a large organization, SOPWRD (Save Our Pond With Rubber Duckies) and has declared Ernie from Sesame Street as Duck Worlds...

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Set down the light
set it down anywhere

The pure clean of a random weeknight on the coach staring at the white ceiling. So many balls in the air so much that I can not control. I have given control to others.

It is my human condition.

I will set this ball here on this perfectly lit field. Void of trouble. Maybe someday I will throw it to you and wonder, as I lay here in this white clean apartment,

will you throw it back?

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Excerpt from personal diary, Saturday, Sept. 23, 2010:

Experiments designed to give self artificial sexual fetish involving lamps have thus far resulted in failure. First attempted to insert lamp into arbitrary orifice; however this failed due to how cumbersome the lamp in question was. Perhaps there is a non-penetrative alternative?

Excerpt from personal diary, Saturday, Sept. 24, 2010:

Attempted masturbation while entertaining thoughts of the lamp. So far unable to sexualize the object itself, and thus unable to complete experiment. Will try again with different parameters tomorrow.

Excerpt from personal diary, Saturday, Sept. 25, 2010:

The lamp wouldn't turn on....

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They gathered in the woods, but that was not enough to save them, as they were mistaken for trees, cut down and shipped to a lumber mill.

One of them was fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to be made into thick planks; most of the rest were sadly torn apart into sawdust and mulch. But that one continued to live, in great pain, as he was violently sawed and assembled into a large, polished grandfather clock.

They attached to him some cold, foreign bits of metal that moved jarringly. The ticking of the gears against his aching frame was unceasing; day...

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She didn't look at him as she gingerly opened the sketchbook he had laid in front of her. Carefully schooling her face into it's most neutral expression, just in case she didn't like what she saw.

She needn't have worried.

For as she opened the book and began to gaze over the imagery, the concepts, the scribbled annotations that sounded like he had been talking to himself as he wrote them, she became lost in the world he was describing.

She could feel him tense next to her. She understood that, by being shown his work it was like she...

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OK guys. Calm down. Yes, I am standing on the edge of a cliff. No, I am not contemplating suicide.

For a start, my life is worth living. I have a new girlfriend, a great job, an apartment with a mortgage and a loving family. I don't drink and I only smoke after meals.

So, what am I doing here?

I am thinking of my future and of the choices I need to make. Like today, when I phoned my girlfriend (gorgeous, blonde and randy) and she said she thought it was time for commitment. But am I ready for...

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You can count me out.
That was what he had said as he had stormed off.
It wasn't as though the plan had been so ridiculous. It would just have been time consuming and time was the one thing he did not have in abundace.
He still had to write his paper, read five chapters worth of background material, prepare his meal chart for the week and continue training for the marathon.
No, he did certainly did not have time to mess around by climbing flagpoles and pulling practical jokes.
Just like he hadn't had time to go out with...

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I am the apple of her eye.

All of them in fact.

I have five aunts, and a mother.

Mom calls me the Little King, her little Emperor, the man of the house. Where is my father? I don't know or care.

My aunts have always been there. Mom defied everyone when she got pregnant, as far as I know my aunts have never been courted.

They are my court. They laugh at my jokes, they bring me snacks, they make me cocoa, they run my baths. When I write stories they print them and paste them in a book,...

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