This dream was better than waking.
The fact that I *knew* I was dreaming kinda freaked me out. Inception was just a movie right? Right? Leo? Talk to me man.
Leo ignored me. So did the really tall blonde in a small bikini, slowly, slowly rubbing suntan lotion on her legs.
Yup. Definitely a dream. Even the ignoring was standard issue me dream.
I looked around me. I was on a beach, somewhere, Leo beside me sketching the girl with the lotion. Up the beach, toward the headland, three young men were playing hacky-sack. I looked a bit closer. Hacky-sack...
Until now, she never thought of herself as pretty.
Each morning she would stare in the mirror and try to pick one good feature of herself, different from the day before. It was never difficult for her, she liked the color of her eyes and the thickness of her hair but until this moment, she had never felt put together.
But in this moment, with the boy of her dreams watching her descend down the staircase in a gorgeous white dress, she felt pretty.
She felt the tears welling up in her eyes as she passed her Grandmother and felt...
Sideways glances and meanderings
Staring down some dark alley street
Cobbled and
oh
so
crooked.
This sway of me breezes free
seeking peace
not seeking.
Blood rushes through these veins
but ethereal do I sometimes feel
when falling.
Sweet surrender to do we offer ourselves to each other
and truly believe this is it.
Who are we kidding?
Death has no mercy and sometimes won't even let us die
but instead waste away inside of
bars
flesh
dreams.
So it be
so it be
but not definitely..
"the tie-breaker question for 100 points ..."
Katy worried at her cuticles. There was a lot riding on this. Too much. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.
In....2....3...out....2....3.
The host took a dramatic pause. She could hear the clock ticking loudly. She moistened her lips risking a glance at the group on the next table. How could they look so calm? Was their heart not beating in their ears.
Dawn, next to her, said something she didn't quite catch. Whatever it was, it made Lisa guffaw. A big manly laugh at odds with her petite physique....
It was a brave day for navy blues men. And a sad day for pirate kind. The navy blues men had defeated the pirates at their own game, the blues. The pirates were especially bluesy that day, having been attacked by navy blues men. But the navy blues men were bluesier, there was no question about it.
"Ohhhh, we gots the blues," the navy blues man named Salut sang. "We gots more blues than yooooou!" It was stated; it was true. The pirates felt the sting of defeat. Ironically, they felt bluesier now than they had before. But it was...
The city was empty and so was she. There was an echo in the quiet streets and an echo in her ear. She had heard this sound before--this sound of nothingness--and it reminded her of something. That vacancy. It made her think of her marriage. That was the sound of her marriage, that emptiness. She felt comfortable in that sound. Above her a streetlight snapped on with an almost audible sound. She could hear the click or maybe just imagine it. The electricity lines opening, sending current to that one lamppost so that it could shine with its weak light....
I did not realise how much my life would change after I was handed over The Holy Grail for safekeeping. Up to that moment in time I had no awareness the truth about my family, our role in the history of the world, and the danger we faced on a daily basis. After being told everything, so much made sense. All the near-miss accidents either to myself or my sister, home schooling which I rebelled against, chauffeur, bodyguards that I believed were friends of the family, being forced to join the military.
That day I went to mass and was...
There not much to say about this motorcycle that my grandfather gave me other than it's seen better days. The rust on the sides indicate multiple days and nights spent out in the rain and cold and the headlight is so dim that it must have been years since it's been changed. For me, this bike has no sentimental value, other than the value it's been given by my grandfather. He loved this bike more than anything. He would ride it across the country once every year just to see both coasts and catch up with old friends that he...
she kept bird feathers in an old mason jar beside her bed. every night she would pick one, and blow sweet, freshly toothpasted air through the meat of it. sometimes dust would fly away with the wind, other times a few clingy strands of the feather would lazily float through the air. every morning, she would pick one, and slowly stroke her face with it, making soft rotations until she felt alive again. she says it stopped the dreams from coming real. one day, i worked up the nerve to ask her, "how do you pick the feathers you do?"...
They crouched to peer beneath the stairs.
"Did that blade seriously just nick my ankle?"
Brody grabbed a stalk of grass and shook it in front of the step. A pair of scissors lashed out and bisected the leaf and receded into obscurity.
"It looks like Jiro's back." Myka pulled a long, desperate drag out of her cigarette. "Looks like the girlfriend thing didn't work out."
"Maybe the booby trap is to keep people out as they get it on." Brody coughed as Myka exhaled a noxious cloud in his face.
They skipped the step and carefully ascended the stairs...