Mr. Floppers was clearly possessed. He watched little Billy eating his breakfast, his beady black eyes cold and unfeeling. Billy had felt uneasy ever since his father shoved the still warm plush body into his arms a few days ago.
There was something not right about that bunny. Not right at all.
At first it was little things. The staring. The unmoving frown. Then Billy noticed the bunny seemed to move from where he'd placed him.
Last night he'd had a nightmare in which his fluffy companion crouched over him, opening his mouth to reveal a set of cold white...
I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.
I'm not truly Welsh of course, being that my Great Grandfather's Mother's second husband was from Scotland. A secret shame that the Family has bourn quite well, considering. When questioned over my flame coloured Ginger hair, relatives successfully hinted at the local milk delivery representative as explanation. An obvious solution, except for the fact that her hair was clearly and obviously dyed, but there you go.
So, our family are what Cwm-yn-Canu locals would call "incomers", not...
It happened gradually. Never when he was looking at it, never exactly the moment he turned away.
It grew. The green-ish mold-like whatever grew. So slowly, it was like watching the Tar Drip experiment. Again. It grew floating inside a near-absolute vacuum in a spherical glass container, with nothing to support its growth.
Well, there was sunlight, but no matter how efficient it was, it couldn't possibly synthesize matter from that.
The worst part was that when he released the vacuum, the particles scattered everywhere. All he could then was to reinstate a vacuum in the container and hope some...
She'd have preferred the electric chair. She'd always been a fan of electricity. She recalled the first time her mother had given her a knife and set her down in front of the light socket. "Go on...Stick it in there good now honey" her mother had told her. And the jolt. Wow. Margaret knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life from that very first light socket. Electricity would be her calling. And boy did she answer that call.
As a young girl she would put on shows for the kids on the block by hopping in the...
If there's one thing that Marie Antoinette had wished for, it would be that man never discover the sciences involving time travel. Her court was over-populated by not only all of the great people of the twenty-fifth century, but they had filled their quotas by stealing the best minds throughout the previous centuries. The time travel business seemed to be booming, but in its wake came a lot of discord. The leader of this ragtag rebellious group who sought nothing but to make a mockery of her policies was none other than - Katie Fucking Couric. "I'd like to shove...
It was the fall that surprised me most.
Throughout my twenties, love had always been akin to a distant country: worth visiting perhaps, but out of my budget. I watched others travel to its shores with a lazy detachment and a very small amount of curiosity. There were other places to go. Other places to see. Love was not a final destination and those that went there seemed -- for the most part -- to be the eager embarrassing tourist types that I always avoided during my holidays.
Then I met Albert. The first thing I told him was that...
What's this then?I've never seen one of these before...it looks a bit suspicious to me.
It looks like food, but it has strange skin. I'll sniff it and see if it is food. Ugh! What a strange smell, like sweet smells that come on the winds. I'll lick it. Hmm..it tastes good, a bit salty though. It's moving, so it isn't dead yet. Argh...I can't get that awful taste out of my mouth. I could get poisoned if I eat this, but can I last another day without food? Pewk, that tastes bad.I think I'll leave this to the Hyenas,...
i had a dream. It was so weird! I dreamt is was in a truck cruising down the highway. I looked up at the driver and said "Where am i?" He turned around, slow, very slow. I gasped. He was a cat! a gray tabby with neon eyes. "Why am i here?" i asked, thinking that, hey this was a dream. if this cat can drive, then maybe he can talk too. he opened his mouth. "Meow?" was all that came out. So much for the "if he can drive, he can talk" theory. I sat up. We were driving...
The year was 1986, when Madonna was telling her father not to tell her what to do, and life changed beyond my own imagination. The holiday had been planned for ages, but I had no desire to spend two terminally tedious weeks camping with my younger sisters. I had Mark, with his dark hair and warm lips, and I couldn't bear to leave him for a fortnight. He might fall under a bus, or worse, fall for Jayne Marsden and he stilletto heels.
5,4,3,2,1
You won't remember this
Not long now. A shame really.
All because of the accident.
You don't have either the Ends or the Means.
Hell, the Ends justify the Means?
We all know some cheat, especially because they think it won't matter.
What's the point in doing that anyway.
This is no cut and paste to fill the page cheating.
In life (for every other dumb schmuck) you can't cut and paste.
All because of the accident.
6 minutes is all you've got.
It's not like this is even real.
Barely even conscious. Funny that!
It must be SO...