The conversation lasted two words: Alright? ...Yeah

It wasn't groundbreaking, it wasn't revolutionary, it wasn't even poetry, but it was all they needed to say.

They had been the best of friends once, closer than brothers. George had had his own room at Jack's house, Jack had had his own shelf in George's fridge. But somewhere along the way, they had lost that.

Was it because Lissy, George's ex-girlfriend had hated Jack, was it because of the fact that Jack went off to uni while George stayed in their hometown, or had it merely been because of the fact that...

Green. That was the colour that he always thought when he thought of her.
It wasn't hard to see why.
The shirt that she had worn the day that they had met had been green. That was the night that he had led her onto the dancefloor to cheer her up. Her green top had been the only thing that he had been able to see behind the fog.
Her nails had been painted a deep dark green the first time that he had reached out and held her hand. He would never forget her smile when she turned her...

Gradually, that was how the world where it was okay to be a geek, a fangirl, a dork, herself, came into being.

It started with an acquaintance who knew the animated series who became a best friend.

It grew with a sister who accepted everything and opened her eyes to new worlds.

But it finally became real to her when she met him, the boy who pushed her fringe out of her eyes and led her onto the dance floor when she was sad. Who had moved closer in the fog and who had taken her hand without asking. The...

I have a reputation.

The type of reputation that, when I walk into a room, people smirk or have that flash in their eyes that clearly says "I know what you did last night".

I have a reputation. I'm not that proud of this reputation, I mean, I wouldn't advise the me of the past to do it all over again. But I did do it. I did take that guy up to my room, and I did agree to go on a drive with that guy, and I did let that guy pick me up from work even though...

The Potentate surveryed his creamsicle tower coolly.

It hadn't been his idea to build it, it was the idea of his latest duchess. It had been a stupid idea when she had begged for it, but, after she had begun to withhold her affections, he had relented.

It wasn't, you understand, that her pouting had worked on him mind, more that he had been advised by his cabinet that it would not do anything for his public image for him to behead another duchess.

Not that he fancied beheading this one, oh no, burning at the stake felt much more...

I am in love with a robot.

That's quite simply the only way to describe it.

Because although the robot wears His clothes, and says what He would say, I never actually see Him.

I never hear His voice, I don't get to look into His eyes, it has been so long since I felt the touch of His hands...

Therefore, the only way that I can describe my relationship with him, is that I am in love with a robot. Or more accurately, my mobile phone. Because my phone offers me the comfort of His words when I can't...

100 feet away. He is only a hundred feet away. That's all the distance that I would need to cross to be in his arms, to be able to kiss him, to find the comfort that I am missing and to feel safe.

A hundred feet.

I have never wanted to move so much in my entire life.

He knows me. It has only been a few weeks and yet I feel it, He Knows Me.

He knows that when I'm unhappy I need to write, he knows that I believe in God for the small things not what they...

Ridiculous. That's how I feel. Every time that I look at my phone.

I know the sodding thing hasn't gone off. Of course it hasn't gone off. I put it in my line of sight so that I will know when it lights up and it's on my desk, I will hear it vibrate when it goes off and yet, ridiculously, I still press the button to check, just on the off chance that I've missed the buzzing and the flashing.

And why? What am I waiting for?

Do I really still expect him to text me when he's been...

It was within reach.

She just had to keep walking.

The key was to never stop.

Her heart was beating.

Her breath caught in her throat and she choked back a sob.

It had to be here.

Her arms were outstretched as she fumbled through the forest, moving as quickly as she dared over the treacherous ground.

Her shoulders shook as a her fear racked her whole body.

Her back stayed straight and her chin stayed strong, even as her spirit faltered.

They would not have lied to her surely.

They wouldn't have been that cruel.

They couldn't have been....

I'm not sure how it will end between us. I am not sure about the middle. I can't even promise that I'll remember how it began.

But what I can promise is that in years to come, your friend or your girlfriend or your child will ask you to tell the story of us. and when they do, I can promise you that you will smile.

I won't matter how it ended or how it started. In that moment, you'll pause, and smile because you'll remember the bit that made it great in between.

"She was an optimist" You'll say....