She opened the envelope and screamed. This luxury was purely due to the rough edge of the foil having cut into her thumb before she'd completely broken the electrical contacts just inside the ripped flap. The Army man who'd come within minutes of that first scream, had peered over her shoulder down inside the folded card and taken in the plastic, the wires and the detonator. To his credit, though he was clearly Protestant, he had paid her more attention than any man in her rather drab existence. Everyone else had vacated, but finally she was the centre of attention....
"I'm having no part in this. I'm having nothing to do with any of it. Because it's wrong. You're wrong. This entire thing is...it's wrong. It's just...wrong."
"Have you always been good with words?" He sauntered closer, pale fingers tracing my cheek, my neck. "You're relying quite heavily on that word. Wrong. Have you thought about what it really means? How damning it truly is? I don't think you have."
I hated the feel of his fingers across my skin, hated the jolt that had run straight through me, hated the tingling, hated the - I hated it.
He was...
The fields were parched. There was no water. Where was the rain, she wondered as she stared across the cracked land. There were clouds rolling in from the east but they brought no hope of rain. The stream that used to run through here had been clear and sweet, she remembered. Sighing, she turned from the depressing sight and got back to preparing the evening meal. Jim and the boys would be home soon and they would be hungry after a long day in the fields.
"I can help you." A small voice said.
She jumped and looked around in...
Back in his days, John was the sharpest lawyer in town. At the office we used to call him the "Samurai". He used to step into a court room, with a sword for a tongue, he would win over the jury, and he'd win the case, before you even noticed that it started.
So when he took on the case of the murdered child as the defence, the media was all over him. I remember him cancelling a meeting, because there were so many camera teams around him, that he could not move his car. When I asked him why...
When I took Peter his final cup of coffee of the day knowing that tomorrow he'll be somewhere special instead of his smelly flat, I had a strong conviction that I had made the right decision, even though it was unlikely anyone else would understand. That's because they didn't have the knowledge I did. Secret. Life changing. Extraordinary.
In the morning we walked downstairs to the waiting car, Peter was chatting merrily unware his life was going to change forever.
Meanwhile I was perplexed why I couldn't open the door to my padded cell. Peter would be scared in the...
They where here again, this phonebox that they grew up at. There youth had been spend trying to understand the system inside the box. Exploreing what a telephone is, how it work and how it charges you. Now they where back, Johan the older sibbling had decided he wanted to have this phone on exhibit in his new apartment.
So they went to work, together. He and his brother that shared that interest for technological system that was there childhood. Together they pried it off the wall at the same time talking about all the memorys of exploreing the telephone...
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
There was blood on my pillow. For that matter, there was blood in my mouth; It tasted like copper. I don't usually notice the taste of blood, but this caught me somewhat by surprise.
I got up, gargled some water, and carefully probed my mouth with my tongue. As far as I could tell, nothing hurt, and no more blood was coming out. Maybe I cut myself early in my sleep.
I got up properly, fully enjoying the freshly risen sun which was busy spraying it's yellow rays through the forest canopy. There was a fresh campfire pit just visible...
Atop a ferris wheel the poor anxious squirrel found himself above the world far far away from the comfort of his tree and pile of nuts. As the wheel spun behind him, Mr. Squirrel ran ahead trying to keep up as he felt with every turn he would fall. As he lost ground he noted ascending higher and farther away from the ground. 'A telephone pole... a cable... a branch?' he thought could perhaps bring him to safety. When suddenly a gush of wind caused his tiny claws to slip across the rusty painted metal and he slipped. Falling, falling,...
Good night…
Good morning…
Good afternoon…
Chet had to find his own fun while working as a department-store greeter. Sometimes he said “Good evening” instead of “Good night” to the fancier-looking customers. Sometimes he said it to the disreputable customers, too, but a bit sarcastically, to see if they’d pick it up on it. They usually didn’t.
Every now and then Chet would greet someone with the wrong time of day. “Good afternoon, sir,” he’d say, as the sun was peeking over the mountains. “Good night, ma’am,” while the sun was burning hot overhead. And usually people just continued on...