A girl with caramel eyes. That's all I know about her. She's a girl with caramel eyes. I wonder, vaguely, what shade of caramel: I murdered someone in a sweets factory once. There were so many different shades of caramel. Brown, dripping, honey sticky and sweet. Caramel is a wide field. I hope there is time to paly with her before she dies. That's the best part, playing with them. I want to watch her eyes widen as she watches me trace a knife around her throat. Maybe, if she's not a fat lump, I'll even kiss her. Not soft,...
I held it at arms length. I wondered who had stuck that dead rat in my desk anyhow. i carried it out to the garbage bin and flipped up the lid. Ugh. The stench was overpowering. I dropped the little carcas in and slammed down the lid. After thoroughly sanitizing my hands, i opened my spiral notebook and jotted down a list of suspects. Number one: Brayden Leston. He was known for all sorts of less than hilarious pranks, like the time he dropped an entire 2 liter bottle of Pepsi into Mr. Zapinski's Mentos drawer. The resulting explosion caused...
The sound reverberated through the streets. I dropped to my knees, the metal in the synth-leg clanging against the metal walkway. The bullet had entered between the third and fourth rib, penetrating the layer of inlaid titanium armour. I knew I didn't have much time left. I could feel the oil from my implants and my blood mixing and pouring down my chest.
My executioner stood before me, laser sight trained on my skull, ready to put me away for good. I had to act fast.
"Now, now, sweetie, don't do anything rash." He flashed a smile, showing off his...
"You can't stay there all day." I glanced up at my mum who was throwing open the curtains with the wild abandon of someone who's world wasn't ending.
"Moping never did anyone any good." She flung open the window.
"Come on. ..." she reached for my duvet as if to pull it away. I wrapped my fingers tighter around the edges, pulling it closer.
She rolled her eyes and gave it a harder tug.
"Mu-uuum". I complained. My voice sounding hoarse from all the crying. It had been days since I'd spoken a word.
"A shower. That's what you need....
The only sound that broke the stillness was the sound of the horses' hooves as they struck the ground. Garth took off his hat and waved it in front of his face.
"How can you see like that?" asked Becky, motioning to the endlessly flat landscape before them. Sand reflected the unending glare of the sun.
"I read somewhere that you lose more body heat through your head than anywhere else," said Garth, fanning himself with the straw monstrosity.
"So you're choosing to be cool over being able to see?" Becky shielded her own eyes from the light.
"Buck here...
He ran into the room, his heart pounding and his clothes soaking wet.
Just earlier that day, he headed out for the day to go to work as he normally would. Who's knew that by the end of the day, he would get caught in a particularly bad rainstorm. Just his luck!
The other thing was, is that he was late for his bus.
So, he did the only thing that he could think of... run off into the direction heading towards home, to try to get there as fast as he could.
Needless to say...it did not go out...
I watched as the creature - the whatever it was - floated on the soft breeze towards me. It had wings, but it didn't seem to want to use them, gliding through the air instead. As it got closer, my nerves started to act up.
I hate insects.
I hate anything with more than four legs and I'm not that keen on anything with more than two, if I'm honest about things.
I felt cheated as I watched it. The first sunny day in weeks, and I had a chance to enjoy it, sitting in the garden with a book...
The ground was cold and he could feel the pigeons surrounding his pack. He had half a sandwich in there and they tried in vain to pick it out from beneath the clothes.
The sun was rising and in the distance, he heard shopkeepers opening up as workers trudged through the streets on their way to work. He sat up and stretched with a yawn. He would have to find a shower. He had gone a good four days without one and the smell was starting to bother him. Maybe he would spring for a hostel. Clean sheets and running...
The pistol was cocked... Ready to go. I didn't know what to do...
Should I shoot? Should I run? It was a question which required some thought. But I had no time to think.
I needed to think back to my college philosophy classes. Fight or flight. Talk or smoke.
So... I reached into my pocket slowly, all the while showing my pistol...
"Just let me show you my credentials"
hen I dropped my pistol. Then I ran.
"Look it's not that I don't like you, I really do. In fact, if your company was you, this deal wouldn't be an issue."
We had been discussing this for weeks, it was a deal to take in a growing company as our subsidiary. My company wanted them, as they were competition. They didn't want in, because they knew they were just that to us.
"Phil, I understand that my company has a tendency to say one thing and do another," I said to him, as he paced from his chair to the window behind it. "But we mean it,...