The fiction being poured through letters that collied into words, which sit next to other words, that extend to as far as the punctuation that keeps a careful watch to make sure no one is getting too crazy, breaking the law.
And somehow, none of that becomes trivial when we start to see punctuation being used to keep the pace of my pronunciation so my eyes can scan the code and I can zone out into that little story I'm reading in my head.
So much becomes poetic if I just start to look at it a little differently. Cubes...
She could feel it clawing at her as she sat in the room, nudging her, trying to pull her back.
The fantasy was becoming ever more difficult to escape from. The fantasy of her life years from now, successful job, a partner who was her equal and who she could love for the rest of her life, the promise of children, the happy ending that she had always desired.
It was consuming all her waking moments.
The hope that she held in her heart that she would survive this and everything would turn out well.
She hadn't needed to escape...
"Swing." She watched her daughter, ignoring the wails and screams.
"Push me Mom!"
"No. Lean back and put your legs out. Then lean forward and pull them back."
"PUSH me MOM! NOW!"
"No. Lean back then forward. You can do it yourself. You will go higher then. Higher than even I can push you."
"MOMMY! Push me!"
"No. You need to be able to do it yourself." She watched as her daughter swung her uncoordinated legs about before giving up.
"Mommy! It DOESN'T work!"
"Let me show you. See! If I lean back and forth the swing goes without someone...
"Skipper! Where are you, dammit?"
Op.8. Op.8.
"Wretched dog! You've only got so much time!"
Locate Rory. Locate. Locating. Locating.
"Where are you?" Another voice chimes in. "I want my paper. It's early in the morning. They told us you were an obedient creature."
Rory found, chasing butterflies on the south lawn. Come closer. Closer.
The little girl shouts, "Skipp-er! Skipp-er!"
Skipper barks, and Rory calls back. Safety is across the bridge, across the broken-windowed fairy house and shattered pond, but the voices are coming and Skipper has no idea how to stop them.
"I want my newspaper! Come over...
The lights fled all over the world; it seemed as if the whole was stars. Everything blended into the night. All people could was stare admire beauty beyond imagination. The night didn't seem like the night; it looked something else. Something different. Blues were covering uo the black. Black was covering up the blue. But everyone didn't notice, because beauty is all they could see. A lady stood in the balcony, which would be one of her only moments alone looking at the beauty. All she could do was, and admire she did. Her eyes seemded glow in astonishment, but...
Mike Radley is from Catterick Village and has an ugly nose and a fat gut. Sheila Webb, from Catterick Garrison, isn't very attractive either. They have a date tonight because their internet dating service matched them.
Mike Radley has a pint of lager in his hand and foam on his top lip that he hasn't bothered to wipe off. Sheila Webb notices but doesn't say anything: Sheila Webb is too busy poking the black plastic drinking straw in and out of her alcopop bottle.
Mike Radley's dating profile says that his ideal first date would be a romantic walk, perhaps...
Okay, look. I had this idea that this was going to be a nice relaxing trip.
It was.
And we were going to come out here --
Yes.
And enjoy ourselves --
Yes.
And not have to deal with stress. Do you understand?
Yes, of course.
And now, what do you see?
What do you mean?
What do you see here?
I don't know... Trees, blue sky --
Stress!
Sorry?
Stress. It's stress. Every direction I look is stress.
Okay, look, you need to just take a breath. Remember what they said at the clinic. Deep breaths.
Stop it. I...
to feel the moss of the forest floor - this was her favorite. she would bend down periodically, just to caress the soft verdant covering. when she came upon a cluster of burgeoning ferns, she reached and ran them through her fingers like she would strands of a lover's hair. she loved the forest quite as much, and found spending time in it much more peaceful than time passed with any lover she'd ever known. the sun-dappled ground. the falling leaves led in a gentle dance by the breezes. the sight of it all renewed her spirit, in the way...
Through the files, there were instances going as far back as ancient Egypt. This creature had been in the human world for centuries. Amut, the Heart Eater, fated to consume the hearts of men who were evil and corrupt.
All across time the demon roamed, scraping its existence into the memory of mankind. But something was off about this log file in particular. 'Encounter Log No. 682-426-1991' it read. Where did this page come from, though? It was not in the database, nor in any files that had been scoured previously.
It had the normal redacted information for security measures,...
Jail. Only saw my dad once a month, too far to travel. He used to tell me funny stories, keep his mind off the grim reality of life inside. Never gave me a chance, either, to relate how the family were doing, what they felt about losing him.
My mind travelled, not really listening to him. Noticing the regulars at other tables. The fat woman with red hair, always in blue sweats with white stripes down the sides, green laced trainers. Talking non stop to the thin man with the hollowed pale cheeks and ginger hair combed over his balding...