Loved him for an evening.
Sienna had a way of loving them that way. In one evening her compassion for the man at her side transcended adoration.
The men usually left quickly, a blur of parties, cigarettes and alcohol. She was happy enough that way, and of course so were they.
The man in the red hoodie was a bit different. About ten years younger than her if she cared to admit it. As slim as her, with large, dark, cow eyes. Sweet as pudding and she let him linger a week.
Apparently had found religion recently, tried bringing her...
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...
It's midnight and we're sitting on the roof and your hand is on my knee and I'm leaning my head on your shoulder and you're saying something about the stars, about how bright they are, about how they look the same on the other side of the world, something cliche like that. But they don't, do that? I hear a door slam from somewhere inside and I can feel you flinch. You're not supposed to be here, I guess. You think I've got someone else, but I don't. He broke up with me yesterday morning, on the front lawn as...
Raisins are evil. They just don't belong... anywhere really. They're grapes that couldn't make it and have a second chance as rai-sins... that's right. Sins. You read it right. You have to admit that it's pretty strange that sins is right there in raisins. They're evil little wanna bes that wreak havok on all things good and wholesome. Cinnamon buns for instance. What's worse in a cinnamon bun than raisins? Nothing! Raisins are the poops of the fruit world! And they end up in your cinnamon bun like little turds. Little fruit turds that have to be picked around and...
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...
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
I think they're me.
I mean, she - think it's a she, the lines are fuzzy - looks like me. A bit, anyway. She looks how I could be. Maybe how I should be. But she keeps flickering and altering - maybe she's just a potential me.
Or maybe she's all the potential mes.
I step closer to her - I can't tell, not really, that expression keeps shifting, but she seems to be happy about it, I think there's a smile (more smiles than frowns, anyway).
I open my mouth...
Twist. Twist. Twist. The doorknob wouldn't turn. The door wouldn't open. And then Liz would find out why Sebastian was keeping her in his bathroom. It was a nice bathroom, the blue tiles matched the fluffy towels and everything was clean. Still locking someone in the bathroom wasn't proper etiquette. Proper etiquette was texting someone or calling them, and asking if they wanted to discuss their differences over coffee. Being polite wasn't tossing someone over their shoulder and locking them in their bathroom with an ominous "I'll be back."
Aargh. She was going to kill Sebastian for locking her in...
The car stalled. The roads were half washed out and the rain pounded like a blacksmith's hammer on the hood. The storms began a few days ago, but before that it had been a dry summer. After the first downpour, people started smiling and stopped fanning their faces. Life strained under the drops in vegetable and flower gardens.
After the first whole nights of dark heavy clouds, the constant grumble of thunder, people were still trying to be positive. Good for the forests, dry as tinder, they'd say. The river was too low anyway.
After a week and flooded basements,...
"Wait! Wait!" Sam huffed and ran.
There was a red light, which finally made the huge white vehicle stop. It's lights weren't flashing, so Sam was sure the driver wasn't too busy.
He banged on the door only stopping when the window rolled down.
"Yeah?"
"Please!" Sam pulled in huge gulps of air. "I really could use a ride to the-" gulp, "-nearest gas station."
Blankly, the driver stared. "Seriously, dude?" the man chuckled. His deep blue eyes looked amused. "Does this look like a taxi to you?"
"No, of course not, and I completely understand!" Sam raised both hands...
Joey stood sucking on his wine gums. Lime was his favourite, tart and bitter; made him think of summertime grass and his turtle Matlin. Today was supposed to be a fun day; his Mum had brought him to the theme park. He 'love' it she had said. He wasn't so sure. So far he didn't like it but he was trying to pretend. Otherwise Mum would be sad again, and she'd been so sad lately. And angry. She was angry at Daddy because Daddy couldn't come to the theme park. Joey didn't mind though as Daddy had given him two...