He'd sat patiently on the threshold of the kitchen all afternoon. She'd dropped countless morsels of crust, of walnuts, chunks of apple and even some of her own snacks, the clumsy klutz. Yet he'd abstained, withheld, conquered himself.
Now she was taunting him -- he felt it deep in his soul. She'd left the pies to cool -- small round pies, aromatic sweet pies -- at eye level. His eyes. She'd gone from the house (where? did it matter?) and left him to conquer himself.
Taunting his resolve. He thought to his mother who'd trained him in her ascetic ways....
The snow had hardened overnight and was crisp now. It wasn't what you would call a cold day and Fran had left her jacket unbuttoned. She was looking at the children off in the distance.
"I'd forgotten that it was today."
Alan was looking farther away.
"I wasn't looking forward to it or anything."
He reached in his pocket and found and empty packet of cigarettes.
"Dammit."
"When did they start doing it?"
"I don't know, maybe 3 or 4 years ago."
"Do you remember the first one?"
"No. It's just a thing that happens."
She felt very bad then...
They crouched to peer beneath the stairs. The space was empty. Hiller swore quietly. Where were they? Benson stod up, rubbing his lower back. Well, the house is empty, he said. We should get going. Nothing we can do here.
Hiller nodded absentmindedly. Something was nagging at him. Something wasn't right. Let check the back room one more time first, he said moving towards the back of the house. They entered the small cupboard like room at the back of the kitchen and stood there silently. They both hear it at the same time. A faint noise coming from beneath...
The lamp wouldn't turn on. That was really the least of his problems. It meant the electricity had finally been turned off. So had the water, the cable, and the gas. At least they had waited until the spring. It was warm enough to not risk freezing that night.
Jacob wondered through his house, filled with useless possessions. He touched the television and the fridge as he walked by them, exiting the house and into the beautiful April morning.
The birds were chirping and a steady drone of cars racing down the highway filled his ears. He took a deep...
She'd have preferred the electric chair, at least that one bloody moved. She could get up a good speed on that one, maybe she could get out of it, escape their sympathetic looks. It was bad enough losing the power in your legs without their condescending looks. Idiots.
Apparently it was a "power chair", but, frankly, bollocks to that. Jokingt that she was living out a death sentence was one of her few pleasures left - that terror in their eyes, the "oh god how do we respond to that" was what she was living for right now.
Actually, that...
"Ugh," Shiloh said, rolling her eyes over the steaming cup of coffee that she had been holding for the last twenty minutes.
Her boyfriend Micah looked across the table and couldn't help but let out a very quiet laugh. "What?" he asked, still laughing as he did.
"Don't what me," she replied softly, shaking her head as she took a very long sip of her still piping hot coffee. "Don't, Micah. You know exactly what that ugh was for."
After Micah had graduated from university with a degree in chemical engineering, he had convinced himself that he didn't want a...
The conversation lasted two words: REDACTED REDACTED
[Security clearance confirmed]
KKTnI Event 21/12 Exec Summ
Months of supervision of the three alien ambassadors and chaperoning the three chosen human representatives of the UN Science contingent had led to this final one ended discussion. Tom Savage, DoO, predicts we will never meet others from the mothership.
Something that Amy WITHHELD (the NASA astronaut in training, there to the relief of the US) Darren WITHHELD (Irish poet who'd not cut his hair for 30+ years) or WITHHELD Xing (Japanese ex-military) had said, done or shown the three inseparable E.T.s had resulted in...
What do you make of the man who sells his muse?
It's what she wants.
It's what she asks for.
It's the active creation of a ghost, the planning for something that remains in verse and shadow long after the departure of the flesh.
It's the creation of memory and emotion that will remain fresh for the consumer, but will soon become the thorn for the creator
It's the serving of beloved as buffet.
It's what we need.
And ask for.
What do we make of the girl who sells her desire.
It's how she succeeds.
It's how she fails....
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,...
It was the fall that surprised me most.
Helping is the one thing I always thought I was best at. Hearing thank you is one of the things I'd actually pay money for; in fact I do, because I never click that box on my tax forms that would get me paid back for donations. Although, come to think of it, I could have clicked that box and then used to money paid back to donate somewhere else. I'll have to look into that, if I ever have money again.
It started with a smile. I'm a sucker for a...