"Hoist the Jolly Roger, wouldn't you, old chap?"
"Righto, Cap'n," said Lieutenant Chapman. "I say, what shall we do with these old colors?"
"Tear them up, burn them, whatever."
"Cap'n, phone for you, sir," said a young deckhand.
"Ah, thank you, there's a good lad," the Captain took the phone with easy sangfroid. He listened to it for a moment before saying, "that's right, old chap, we're defecting."
"Lost my mind? Bloody well found it, sir. No pay and no shore leave? It's enough to make pirates of anyone, if I do say so meself!"
The ship began to drift...
The icy cold seeped in through the cracks of the old window. Time and time again Thou had thought of sealing the gaps. But as always had settled on doing nothing.
His instincts told him nothing was best. So when he phone interrupted his depressive thoughts, he thought of letting it ring out. After it had rang three separate times, he hauled his heavy frame up from the bench and clasped the receiver to his ear.
"Yes?"
"Hi, uh is this the Museum of Museum's?"
"No it is not."
"Oh...sorry."
"Me too."
Highrises and skyscrapers never scared her. Layer upon layer of people and things were a comfort; like extra blankets on top of beds in the winter. The noise of floors reaching to the sky acted as a lullabye.
So when he asked her to move to a place where the highest high was just as high as bird could fly, and the people were all tied to the land, she said yes but thought no. No I can not be alone. No, I need layers of people to protect me. No, I need to be up high, away from the...
It was a pleasure to burn.
Holding the papers over the flame and watching as the flames spread over each one. Swallowing the words and memories as it went. The demons danced in the flames until there was nothing more for them to devour. Until the fire had taken every last word. Every last sentence and turned them into nothing more than a pile of ash on the ground.
Each piece of paper a different memory. A different time, another thing that needed to be burnt away. Each strike of the match burst into a flash of bright light. Each...
Long after the fireworks, Katie was returning form the lake side. It wasn't a long walk back to her home. She walk along the road. She was passing a house the paint a yellowed white, this was her boyfriend's house she stood there, and began to remember the the happy time she had with him, and as she remember all the good a phone rang, then the sound of a crying woman, she realized it was her voice.
Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up.
"Yes, Ms. Clark?" The professor deadpanned, "You have something you'd like to add?"
Rebecca tugged on her shirt slightly and took a deep breath.
"Yes, I do." She felt her cheeks turn red, "That's is wrong."
"Wrong?" Rebecca hated this guy and she took secret pleasure as he looked wildly at the board, searching for his error, "I don't see anything wrong here."
"It's in the first line." She felt like a hero even though her voice was shaky.
"Oh, I...
It was a shock to the system, moving out of the city. I had always thought I belonged there, amongst the grime and the noise and the grey. It seemed right to wake in the morning to the sound of garbage trucks and too-loud television.
Adam had been right. I knew that as I turned off my iPod and, lifting my headphones, listened to a beautiful moment of silence. The air was still and cool, the day clear and bright. I wondered if there were other people somewhere in the valley below, hidden by the trees. Perhaps I was alone...
This girl was smokin' hot and carried an umbrella that matched her gown. She was on her way to a sumo wrestling match between her husband, Xiao and his enemy, Chan. She was worried for her significant other, for he has been training for this match for his entire life -- this was his one moment to prove himself in the ring. For weeks, she watched Xiao drink eggs for breakfast and squats before bed. That said, she was confident that he would prove himself. She was confident that his training was enough to overtake his enemy.
She finally reached...
That night everything changed. She would never think of the stars in the same way. Or the grass, or the flowers. In five minutes her whole perception of the world changed. She could acknowledge that the thoughts running through her head at that moment were not what she would have imagned she would be thinking in a scenario such as this. Her thoughts were clear and concise. Practical almost. She blinked. It hurt. A seering pain shot from her left eye through (what it felt like anyway) her brain. She tried turn her head to the left where she knew...
"I'm writing you a ticket," the cop said.
"That isn't fair," I complained. "I didn't do anything wrong."
"You're selling illegal oranges in a public place," the other cop admonished me. "That means a fine, and you're lucky we're not taking you down to the station."
"What's the matter with my oranges?" I cried despondently. Those oranges were all I had. I would be destitute without them, and what little income I could get from them. I had to convince them not to take that away from me. My family was counting on me; I couldn't let them down.
"Hmm,...