Christmas parties at work. Always held during the day. I lift my head from my desk, shuffle to the lunch room, punch out.
No booze, no music. A potluck. This close to Thanksgiving in a soup kitchen. The owner of the company is a well-known philanthropist and a lesser-known miser.
The meal's adequate. Warm soda floating in the ice of a wet cooler. Outside, the rain falls. The ground's as soggy as the bread slices set beside the ranch dressing.
Merry Christmas. Back to work. I see Caesar in the hall and thank him for his salad.
He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet.
"Mummy, Mummy!" he yelled, his face flushed and eyes gleaming with excitement.
"What is it, sweetheart?" I asked, my heart in my mouth, fearing the worst.
Surely nothing terrible had happened in those few short minutes since I'd turned my back and left him to his own devices?
Unconsciously scanning his body for weeping wounds, gaping gashes or odd shaped bones like a Men in Black zapper I began to relax.
"What's happened now?" I said, smiling at my golden child.
"Mummy, I rode up the hill...
The water was clear and not a cloud was in the sky. Melody lay in the tall weeds near the lake under a weeping willow.
This was the last day of her summer vacation and as she was lounging there she was pondering all of the things she had done that summer and the things she wished she did.
She realized that only so much is possible in 104 days but that realization did not defer her mind from thinking of all her missed opportunities.
In reality isn't it strange that humans must choose what they want to use their...
They were back again. The Crasoons. And this time she was ready. Ever since they'd laid waste to her town, reducing it to wilderness in a matter of weeks, carrying off the wreckage with their dreadful claws, she had been planning. The white noise in her headphones would drown out their hypnotizing cries. She wouldn't go on a killing spree, no matter what the benign-looking destroyers told her. She was here for one purpose, the purpose she'd been training for for a year and a half: The destruction of the Crasoons. Her red shirt would lure them. And once they...
i bet i can beet u home shouted ben as he leapt past muddy puddles not caring about getting covered by whatevar was in his path "hay mum said that u have to look after me wait!!" cried lizzie bens little sister "you better keep up then" "oh your soo anoying" ben crashes through the kitchen door covering the floor in mud as mum gives him a look that ses i have jus spent the last half hour washing that floor and were is your sister i told u to keep an eye on her but mum i was only...
I needed to find food, quickly.
The warm summer breeze propelled me forward at a rate that almost made my flight uncontrollable. My wings beat hundreds of times per second, but at my size, it doesn't take much to send me reeling.
My eyes displayed the fractured landscape; grass, trees, houses. I was nearing a long strip of gray ground that was painted yellow and white in some places. Perhaps there would be food nearby? I descended to investigate, buzzing eagerly.
Another breeze sent me tumbling through the air, but I righted myself. The ground was getting nearer.
Suddenly, some...
She listened, intently. The night was quiet, and she might be alone. Then again, she might not. The girl in the red gown wished she were somewhere other than Beijing, huddled in a doorway in the night. But where would she be, if she could choose? Back in England, probably. There, she would be fearless. There, dangerous men would not be chasing her across the city, seeking to recover an ancient idol - really, it was an ugly thing, wooden and splintery. She wished she knew what all the fuss was about. James had wanted it, though, and so she'd...
She could tell I was faking it. Every time I cracked a smile or choked out a laugh. All of it a fabrication to please the people around me. An attempt to lie to everyone, especially myself, about how screwed up my life really was, about how everything around me truly was going to hell.
When you've lost everything, why shouldn't you laugh? The bitterness of it is cathartic.
Yet... She stays around. Keeps an eye on me, noting my dulled eyes and chronicling every irrational action. Hearing the broken glass edges of my voice, seeing the glint of tears...
Prison is for mossy bricks, reinforced iron bars, decrepid toilets and savage guards beating on the door every morning. How can it be anything else?
And yet, within the confines of this framework, there is a nook as tangible as any cell; the walls are closing in on me, invisible monsters lurking in the dark, only — these are worse than any monster imaginable, for they do not breathe, do not reason. You can't reason with walls.
The post seemed like a good idea at the time, for who doesn't dream of directing such a large, historic enterprise if given...
The summer was in full swing, but since all his friends were out of town, it has been mostly television for him. His mother couldn't stand him in the house any longer, so she sent him grocery shopping. While browsing through the various different magazines at the counter, he noticed a couple of guys from school heading towards him, smiling. Though two of them were in his Spanish class, he had never spoken a word with them before, so he was more than surprised when they invited him to a party at the beach that evening. But parties weren't really...