She was supposed to be running. Fifteen more miles to go. But the butterflies caught her attention and she couldn't drag herself away.
"Go! Go! Go!" she heard the spectators shout. Or was that her subconscious?
She had to keep running she told herself. She needed the prize money for her next search. Money that would buy her time and equipment she would need. A top of the line GPS system, tape recorder, memory sticks. Anything that would help her track down her sister.
A year ago, her sister left a note and disappeared without a trace. And Amelia had...
I just stepped off the train, and the heat is unbearable. Before I left my apartment, it was already at 90. That was at 5:45 this morning.
Now, it is the end of the day, and I am stopping to grab a drink with a friend. They are visiting the city, so I have meet them up in a place I normally don't go to. Well, except for work.
The heat is so intense, taking the train was easier than walking. I would normally walk but this would have been too much of an exercise.
Michael Phelps would have been...
So, I left. I couldn't stand it anymore. I had had enough. Absolutely enough. There were no more chances for me. I knew that if I stayed, it would be the end of me. The end of the me I was trying to become. I wanted it, so depsertaly, I wanted it. If I could just make it to the finish line. But first, I had to break away from this pack of slower runners. I feared that if I used my energy now, too much iof it, I wouldn't have enough for the end. The end of the race...
I was not at ease without the lights. I definitely felt an insect of some sort, crawling along my chest... Perhaps it was a spider? Wait, is a spider an insect? Well, it can't be a mammal, that's for sure.
The lights. I felt along the side of the wall, hoping to catch the lamp unplugged; but no, it was plugged in and my heart sank a bit. I didn't want to change the bulb. But what if it wasn't the bulb? What if it was an electrical outage?
What if this was the return of the dark ages, where...
The argument over the preferred pronunciation of "Pax Romana" bloomed into a bloody fistfight, not that it was terrifically violent so much as the pugilists were notorious bleeders. The patch of snow on which they sparred began to resemble the flag of Japan as arms unfurled, elbows snapped back, and fists clenched so tight, thumbs overlapped knuckles.
Inside, my kung pow shrimp cooled under the air vent.
I was dancing. The disco ball was turning. It was Monica's sweet 16 and I got invited. But unfortunately, I regretted it so much! She invited so many people and one of them was my crush. Boys and girls. There were so many people. Even though he was just my 'crush', things turned out bad. My friend, Laura had totally stripped down and it turned out to be an inappropriate party.
But I didn't care less. I didn't dare to go outside. I looked up to the disco ball. The lights shorn my face. Suddenly I felt two strong pairs...
When you dream you can dream in color and any color will do. The more vibrant the better. When I'm old i will dream in purple because I read a book once that said purple was an elderly color. When I was young I dreamt of popsicles and bubblegum the colors of the rainbow and pink hues. I remember all of my dreams giving them varying degrees of importance based on my age and how seriously I'm taking myself. Dreams about indiscretions are the best. I wake up and realize that I didn't do it after all. I didn't cheat...
General Hutchison stroked his jaw pensively. "So this - what do you call it?"
"SR-33, sir. The soldier robot, 33rd prototype."
"Took you 33 tries to get it right, huh?"
Mr. Raoul ignored the general's attempt at humor. "You'll find that it's just as capable of understanding and carrying out orders as one of your own men, sir, but its reflexes are faster, its senses are sharper, and it isn't afraid of death."
"Sounds like the perfect soldier, son," Hutchison remarked. "So this SR-33, have there been any of them programming glitches with it?"
"No sir, the operating system has...
The Moon would never be the same again. She'd never be able to look at it in the same way, never be able to go back.
Nothing would, actually. Nothing would go back to being the way it was. It had all changed, in ways she didn't fully understand - she never would understand, didn't expect to.
She'd presumed that some things in life were constant. That you could rely on them - tides, stars, earth, and her elder brother.
The tides were changing, sea levels rising. The stars had shifted without her noticing. The earth was meant to be...
Mark rolled his black wheelchair into the school cafeteria, casting furtive glances at those around him as he admired the Christmas decorations. The school was flouting current anti-holiday laws, but they didn't care. Christmas was a time to celebrate, a time of joy. And Mark, for one, was extremely impressed by the middle school's principled stand.
He rolled into the cafeteria, nodding at those who looked at him, but otherwise ignoring them. it was always thus. The boy, so different, had built a shell around himself, one that he could not break down lest he end up hurt. It was...