The captain for the second time this week, finds himself in his dress uniform. He is standing beside the father and widow who have no knowledge that the man offering his condolence, is the one who took the mentally unstable lieutenant's life. They had been informed that he had suffered a seizure in the night and passed away. Father and widow accepted this, because to them at least his suffering was over.
As the captain watched them give thanks and honor to the late Lieutenant Johnathan MacKenzie MacMillan for his service, he wishes he could tell them of his deceit,...
I couldn't sleep with her next to me. I knew what she had done. It was despicable; it made my stomach churn. But there she was, next to me, sleeping soundly, like a baby without a care in the world. Her breathing came in short shallow gasps. Her snores got on my nerves and as I try to sleep all I can think of is what she's done. What I've done, now that I know. I'm part of it. A romantic evening, a shared bottle of Merlot, shared secrets; too much. A night of passion, a night of disgust. Now...
In these parts, they could not afford trains. Instead, they strapped the Jews and leftists and gypsies and cripples and social undesirables onto sleds on the back of a Volkswagen and hauled them to the camp, which was really a slapdash cardboard affair. The guards were lazy and disinterested. They really didn't see a point in the whole thing, but they did their jobs nevertheless, smoking cigarettes with the more gregarious prisoners. They resented the prisoners and beat them - After all, they thought, why should I have to waste my life standing around guarding these people that the Reich...
Gradually. Ever so gradually, he noticed her work routine. She'd come into the shop below the CCTV camera that gave him his vantage point. She'd stop, check her skirt, then turn and wave. Wave straight at him, it seemed.
Once when he spilt his coffee he swore she looked up, about to greet the camera (or him?) and then the smile vanished. As if she had seen what had happened and was sorry for his stained pants.
In trawling through the back footage, looking for a pattern. Something to identify who had planted the device that had wrecked half the...
Away.
He'd escaped.
And not in the usual way.
Home from school at 7:30pm, another long day of detention for crimes uncommitted (who ever did anything really deserving detention – and when has detention been worse than the alternative. Questions he wrestled with with his head on his desk) – home long after sunset, he pressed his head against his pillow and cried.
The tears awoke the empathy of the waters in the room. His fishbowl grew stormy. A glass of water shuddered with tsunami. The poster of the ship on the wall erupted in gale and he could feel the lash...
The bear was furious.
Dr Who had eaten his chocolate again. This time he wsn't going to let the jumped up timelord get away with it.
He turned to the Cyberman and whispered.
The Tombliboos watched with interest as the plan unravelled and Amy Pond let out a scream as the Cyberman picked up the Dr by the throat and threw him into the shoebox.
The bear now turned on the Gruffalo much to the owls amusement. The Gruffalo screamed and ran behind the bookcase where he hid amongst the dust and biscuit crumbs.
The three Daleks (of varying sizes)...
It was the fall that surprised me most.
I guessed the weight and the distance. It is easy really once you think about it, I guess easy for me at least or at least it was easy, once.
I scrapped up the side of my leg and sometimes that takes longer to heal now that I am older, but being alone who cares really.
It is a good story to tell if anyone is listening.
It was the fall that surprised me most. It is never expected I suppose. One thinks that you will always be quick, cute, desirable. Always...
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...
"Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I think there's something underneath the bed."
Jacob sighed, rolling over and twisting the blankets in an infuriating fashion. "Anna, you're twenty-five years old. Don't you think you're a little old for this?" Of course, he would say that.
Anna twisted the blankets right back. Blankets were protection. Blankets were life. If she were covered with the blankets and Jacob were not, the rules dictated that Jacob would be eaten and Anna would be spared. Everyone knew that. But Jacob wouldn't let this go without a quarrel.
"Jesus, Anna! I'm cold! It's...
Jesus, this guy. I only wanted a ride to the temp agency, and he was all, "sure, I got a sweet set of wheels in the parking lot." So after I finish up my application for the Donut Hut -- fucking powdered sugar in my hair, I'm not taking this hat off all day now -- we go out to the lot, and it's like, it's his GRANDPA's car right there, a Packard or some shit. The seats are made of red leather and they squeak like I've farted when I get in, and there's cigarette burns on the edge...