The butterflies danced outside her window bidding her to come and play. Lessons, lessons, lessons, She looked again just as a fairy slipped beneath the rose petals on her windowsill. She looked closer but couldn't be sure. Was that a fairy foot or just some dust. Mum was calling from downstairs. She looked around and then opened the window just big enough to squeeze through.
On the ledge her wings unfurled and she was off. Dancing in the breeze. The hummingbirds joined her and together they flew off to the honeysuckle where there was a party for the king....
I saw a girl press her cheek into the moldy stone column. Her arms gripped the sides in a hug. Her eyes were closed and she smiled.
I wanted to take a picture of her but then her friend arrived, a girl about her age. They were both older teens. They were American, with spots on their foreheads and chins, hair streaked with pink and blue, pale skin, and wide eyes. They giggled as the first girl, a blonde in a pink jumper kept hugging the column and hamming it up for her friend who took pictures.
I remember when...
The best oak hand sawn carved by a master carpenter. Plush deep red velvet that is soft to the touch yet heavy, and sumptious, the heaviest brass polished to a mirror finish. Everything I bought was the best money could buy, my house photographed and featured in all the glossy magazines.
Rachmaninoff and Bach were always my favourite composers so it was fitting they were chosen, expert pianists played to give me the best send off. As I lay in my coffin in a gown made in Paris, my relatives knew I would be happy.
Rain poured down, next to her, the doorway shielding her. She clutched her red gown as she huddled down close to the ground. The tears wouldn't stop flowing. She was terrified. Elsewhere in Beijing, a man was looking through his house. Calling a name, begging for his daughter to come back.
The girl in the red gown knew what he was doing. She was trying not to care. She was not going back. Not after what he did. Was it right, what he did? What she did? She didn't know. Nobody would know. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She...
"Hello, is this, uh, Mary?"
"Maybe."
"Oh, uh, well I saw your ad and I just thought maybe I had what you're looking for."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, it just that, uh, I've been working out and, uh, I think I have an okay face and, uh. I can be real mean in bed and stuff."
"What's your name, stranger?"
"My name is, uh, John, and, uh, I'm like 6'3'' and muscular and stuff."
"Well, 'John,' if I was to meet you somewhere, would you be interested in a little... action?"
"Uh, yeah! I mean, that's what I...
"What is this?" I ask, my voice becoming more and more hysterical with every word I say.
"It's your life." Jordan says. My life? My life is printed in front of me. It's not possible! I know what my life'll be like. I like to swim, I'll be a swimmer. But this book says otherwise.
"The Dramatic and Unfortunate Life of Mary Sue Crawson." I read out loud. "My life is supposed to be perfect. This story says I'll be a representative of a rebellion. I'll lead the world to destroy the government. I'll... I'll... get shot." This can't happen!...
When nothing really matters you can make anything mean everything. We were building sandcastles, waiting for the high tide to erase the evidence. No one wanted to be here anymore. We were hesitant to make permanent changes, but never really afraid of anything at all.
When nothing really means anything, maybe only everything means something. Try to interpret the meaning of double negatives and find yourself lost in a maze of meanings. Maybe.
We were building snowmen on the first day of spring, waiting for the weather to turn and ruin everything. No one we knew wanted to be here...
One scoop of chocolate, one scoop of strawberry. He would always order that. Strawberry would go on top. I have not been in Maddy's six years, and I still remember the order. I wonder where he is now. Did he go to California? Did he take the blond with him? There was always a blond. Does he still have the golden retreiver? I was going to get a sundae, but I think I will order two scoops--one strawberry, one chocolate.
She didn't look at him; she looked past him, half closing her eyes as if basking in the sunlight. She was really trying to cut him from her vision altogether, the better to scry into the future he was pulling them towards. This had been his idea, his romantic idea: "Let's hire one of those rowing boats and take it down the river."
The top of his head dipped in and out of her frame of vision as he pulled them through the water.
"Tell me if I'm going to hit anything," he panted. "I can't see where I'm going."...
"Oh! Captian, can I help you with something?"
I groan inwardly. Dana is the new flight attendant, and a horrible flirt. She looks at me and pushes a clump of short blonde curls away from her eyes. I smile politely.
"Oh-no, I just need to use the, uh, lavatory."
Her eyes spark. She puts her hand on my wrist.
"Here, I'll show you where it is."
Seriously?! This plane is not that big and even if it were, I'm the PILOT. I sigh and remove her from my arm.
"That's fine I'll find it on my own..." I slide my...