She opened the envelope and screamed. She could not believe him, she simply could not believe that he was still persuing her after all this time. Even though they were living miles and miles apart, he still insisted on writing her. He was the reason that she had left their small town for a big life in Paris. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Why did he always need to have her? She couldn't understand him. But, as much as she hated to admit it, she was still in love with him. The timeless quote, "Absence makes the heart...
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. I can't see him, but I know he is there, and yes, it is a he. The collar of his shirt flaps soft with the night air, and the breadth of his hands dwarfs the whole space. I don't move, but it's not because I'm scared. I just don't want him to know that I know. That he's there. I don't want him to leave. His keeping watch while I sleep, a sort of volunteer sentryman, comforts me like my father's stroking my hair. Maybe it was my father who dispatched...
The first day of school and he was already in a fight. Mark sighed as the three seventh graders approached him from three different directions. His electric blue eyes took in the boy in front of him, a lanky kid with a bulbous nose and mean eyes. Beside him, another boy stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest, a sneer on his face. And behind him, Mark knew, was the last boy, a slack-lipped teenager with dull, incurious eyes.
“Lunch money,” Skinny said, holding out his hand.
“No,” Mark replied coolly as he sat back in his black...
It seemed so simple. Walk in, say hi, grab a cappucino and go. I didn't realize just how complicated it would actually be. it started like any other run to Starbucks. I walked in the door and was greeted by the wired girl sitting by the door, in the exact same spot where i had seen her last. She told me that this was her 34th latte that morning. As usual, i edged away, as she continued to chatter. I walked up to the till and was also greeted by Allie, the clerk i saw every time i came by....
to My son before I die
Take me from this bed, your knuckled curtained hands the fear the dread, for I have none of that. Throw away the flowers, for I am not yet dead.
Take me out to lie again on the Earth
if there is any left
and let me paw the Earth like the Animal I am
here I lie, and She is warming to me.
Nothing is more terrifyingly beautiful than the intensity of a woman's Stare.
Not a gaze or a glace, but a Stare. One that lasts longer than a couple
seconds but no longer than a minute. The kind that cuts its way through
you, making you feel more- and at the same time, less- secure in your
strength as a man.
When I woke up this morning, I knew it was going to be a good day. No groggy moans coming from my body as usual. A little tense in the hips, but nothing a good stretch won't fix. I got up with my girlfriend and made for the breakfast cereal. I worked on my cover letter for a new job application and my girlfriend made the breakfast. "I sure hope this works," I say as I hit send. The job is a definite, but I got into some trouble with the law a while back and my newly acquired bad...
i am forgetting about the prompt.
a woman came in, a regular.
one of the town 'crazies'
may i just say, i love this woman.
even though her choice of topics can and frequently are controversial- even though i've disagreed and even gotten upset over her opinions- i love her.
she is a free spirit
a real independent
doesn't care what you think or what they say- she has her facts and she is sticking to them
though most who know her (or know of her) would laugh or quite honestly have it in for me-
i find her inspiring...
"I gotta get out of here" he cried.
The room began to spin as he collapsed and sank against the wall. This was only the fourth time he had tried this method, and yet he was still shivering from the cold. Was only his fault he couldn't swim very well in the dark, he was just disoriented from being stuck in the room for so long.
"Now, now Mr. Stevens. No use getting all wet and miserable on my behalf." A voice softly chuckled above him.
Stevens could clearly see that the intercom in front of him was glowing red....
Hero at Midnight
No one could remember who among them gave him the name Rooster; probably someone long gone by this point. A seventy percent casualty rate will leave one gaping hole in the communal memory. Everyone could remember why: yodeling and ukelele music in the pre-dawn hours was inexcusable by any measure. It had started after the battle for Hill 487. Most of Rooster's squad had been blown into pieces too small to put back together. Hence the coping mechanism. However, after two weeks of this crap, enough was enough, and Private Morlane drew the short stick: shut him...