He had her in his sights. The moment he saw her, he zeroed in on his prey. Her grace, her beauty... she stood apart from the rest of the herd. Easy pickings.
He waited for her to stop, her attention focused elsewhere, light illuminating her silhouette - almost like a halo. Perfect.
Ready, aim... *click*
"Excuse me, ma'am?" he asked, running over to her with the rapidly-drying Polaroid. "Would you like a souveneir of your trip here? Only five dollars for the pretty lady!"
The woman blushed and pushed the film away. "No thanks," she said, "I'm fine."
No doubt...
The disco ball was turning. But only in my head. I began to dance around again, like always when it started to spin. I looked in vain for a way out but they just laughed. It was like Hell but only worse because not only was the disco ball only in my head, so were the songs.
I didn't dislike Donna Summer but you can only take so much disco. The Bee Gees were better. They had a vast catalog of the beat. But the Xanadu soundtrack was the killer.
The straps tightened and the camera narrowed it's focus on...
The gate closed behind them. Like a thunderous blast of insecurity they were shunned, abolished, removed from the society that their father so desperately tried to control. Sarah turned, taking hold of her younger sisters hand and began walking, but she wouldn't move.
"Damnit, c'mon Michelle! They've thrown us out, our dumbass father screwed up, and now we're the ones paying for it!"
"But daddy was trying so hard, he only wanted to help-"
Sarah slapped Michelle across the face, tears breaking fourth along side the ear shattering sound of flesh smashing into flesh.
"Dad messed up, he died, and...
Twist. Turn. Dart Jump. I will wait for you. Wait for you to tire. Because you will drag me and my little boat all the way to Heaven before I let go this line. Soaked with salt and sweat and blood from my stinging palm.
And we dance, you and I, like sweet Rosa, mother of my starving daughter Consuelo. And you will drag me to Heaven before I let go. My harpoon is waiting like the hunger of my child for that first taste of blood. And though it cuts my hand, I will not let you go. Not...
Wine. The God of the Sublime. Dionysian times cured the ill humored people by taking grapes, fermenting them, turning it all into a drinkable solution that would cure terrible moments in a life by twisting them slowly away with each sip of this smooth purple pulp.
I felt the first effects of wine when my friends and I would buy a cheap bottle of Yellow Tail, pop off the cork and take slow swigs as if this was our solution to boredom, happiness, sadness, and just life in general. We sipped as if wine was our blood, our fuel, our...
After years of experience, Todd knew that the best way to eat a pocket watch was in the reclining position. It aided with digestion. This was already his fifth watch of the afternoon, but his hunger was nearly insatiable. His favorite parts were the delicate gear mechanisms; they cracked between his teeth like the fine bones in canned salmon.
After he finished his watch, Todd hopped up and hiked back to the trail. He hid among the underbrush and waited for the next group of passers-by. It was just sheer luck that he was in the forest this weekend at...
his is what it’s like when you get lost. the thorns of red vines stick into your fingertips as you try to shield your face. your feet kick up the smell of old leaves, and it makes you think of suburban autumnal piles, of the hot cider that your father always made you. it’s strange to think of it now. you’re so far in, working your way towards the belly of the beast. what was waiting for you there? you stop for a moment. you are having queer thoughts. it’s then you feel the change. your hair is the color...
I jumped. Yes, I jumped into this fiery ring with full knowledge of what I was doing. I couldn't help myself. She was a wonder to behold. It didn't matter that she was married. It didn't matter that she had children. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Her hair was the most wonderful shade of honey-blond. Her eyes were liquid pools of green fire. Our passion knew no bounds. We lived in a world made just for us. But like all things, our world had an end. She was married. She had children. They were beautiful...
Fireman? Firewoman? Fire...person?
Esme sighed as she approached her firetruck. The trouble with magic, she reflected, was that while it got you where you need to be quickly, that sometimes meant that you skipped over important parts of the path.
It had been a simple enough spell of purpose; she paid her fifteen hundred dollars, and in return she got given her perfect career. The career that she would enjoy the most, be most suited for...the career that would make her happy.
Purpose was a popular spell-type, and it had definitely resulted in a happier populace, but no one had...
It was the fall that surprised me the most. We worked together for years on the 82nd floor of Tower two, and when I knew we couldn't get to the bottom I knew he'd want to go to the top. I agreed immediately even though I knew he had a plan, he always had a plan. I was too busy not thinking clearly to think clearly, about what this plan would would to do us, how it would end, how we could survive.
For the last minute of his life, the terror was gone. His smile didn't surprise me, I...