They were listening.
She couldn't believe it. They were actually listening. She looked around the room at the audience. They had come here to listen to her and she had found the right tone, the rigth words and they were listening.
She took a deep breath and scanned her notes. She looked up again and focused on a man five rows back, in a heavy gray sweater.
After her presentation was over she sat down and tried to relax. There was one more presentation to be made and then the floor was opened for a short panel discussion. She looked...
The bird landed. Worm-in-mouth, ready to feed the little ones. The nest high up in the tree above Central Park. Those birds had the best view in all of New York.
The birds could see snow, sun, rain, and leaves, all land upon the Park's territory; people-watch, bird watch, even. They could sleep, sing, then fly away, and come right back to their home above the sidewalks and tourists.
Birds in NYC, see more than most others do in a lifetime. Watching people kiss, get engaged, fight, collapse, run, die, LIVE. They see night in NY, day in NY, winter,...
We were eating tuna fish sandwiches on the green outside the palace. The sandwiches were soggy but we ate them anyway. The sky and the water were dusk. "It's dusky," I said. "No," she replied.
We ate the soggy sandwiches as we stared at the sky. When you're lost in thought, your sense of taste dims. Staring at the sky and down at the water, I could feel my taste buds run up to my eyes. I could almost taste the sky.
I could tell you I tasted the water, but it just tasted like water. Soggy.
Springtime. In yogateacherland that means detoxes. Twist. The liver is on the right side of your body. Or is that correct? Maybe it is the left. Either way, cross that right leg over your left leg. Settle those seatbones on your mat. You can put your left leg out straight if you need to. Now, right arm out behind you- straight spine - left elbow to the outside of your right knee.
And twist.
With each breath drawing in and up, rotating towards the back of the room, towards the other side. All those dark wintery things that have been...
We were out of gin. The night was off to a great start. How was I suppose to get blackout drunk within an hour. I had a case of beer but none were cold. I left the apartment and walked over to the liquor store. I'd eventually get there and then I'd return and get drunk.
Why the hell was it all the way down the block. Not to complain, but that was actually great. It kind of was a problem when week after week the same routine went down.
"If you just waited, we could've went to a bar"...
The cut was more jagged than she would have liked, but the little bastards were always squirming while she decapitated them. Still, the look of terror in its wide, lifeless eyes was one of the best she'd seen yet.
She headed back to the cottage; she'd have to dip the head in tar and put it on top of a stake along with the rest on the perimeter of her garden. So far, the warning had done little to deter the pests from stealing her fruit and vegetables - food that she and her little brother needed to live comfortably...
They were listening.
That simple realisation caught her offguard, her breath temporarily stuck in her throat and she felt, just for a moment, her strength falter.
But the feeling passed quickly because of course they were listening, they were her friends, they had held her up when she was too drunk to walk in a straight line, pushed her hair back from her forehead when she cried and hugged her with glee everytime that they saw her. They loved her, of course they were there, listening as she conquered her fear of singing in public.
It wasn't that they had...
My name is Mallard Duck.
I have BiPolar disorder.
I will fight it to the living end. And lose, probably
Starting with: this is the WOST topic ever posted here.
Still -- I'm a hero on a Ducky Scale for saying so.
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. She looked over her shoulder to peer at the mouth of the alley. Seeing no one, she ducked out of the doorway and ran towards the seeming dead end. Stepping onto the large crates piled at the end, she looked up at the rope that was starting to dangle down from the roof, 5 stories above her. Taking a firm hold of the rope, she hoisted herself up, hand over hand, until she made her way up to the roof.
"I have the key," she says...
"Just one second, I implore you!"
said Marie as the guillotine descended
"I know there's no chance
That my fate will be rescinded.
But I must correct myself
For records and textbooks historic
In the int'rest of lurid TV
what I said was, 'Let them eat COURIC'."