My kids are always begging me to go to Disneyland. I suppose I'm not alone in this. The thing that kills me is how well they argue their position. It's like I'm raising a pack of lawyers in my home. That's maybe the worst part of the whole thing - imagining that I'm incubating the next generation of shysters simply by encouraging my kids to back up the claims they make.
That's why I continue to refuse to take them to Disneyland even though they've mustered some really good arguments in their favor. I don't want them to think that...
Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up. She knew every detail of his face: the way his nose arched in between his eyes, the way the left side of his lip always rose a little higher when he smirked as he walked by, and that freckle under his ear that she always imagined kissing.
They had worked in the same office for about six months now, and since he walked in she could not take her eyes off him. They would talk very casually, about the boring weekly...
"HELP"
"There's no hope," the monotone sound of Sarah's voice echoing throughout the silent forest. I could not see her face, but I knew she was angry. "We have to at least try." I am trying to stay positive, ignoring the heaviness on my chest, my sweaty palms, my racing heart. "Correction- you have to try," her voice now sounded like it was mocking me, "You're the one who got us lost, now you've got to figure it out."
Each breath that leaves a cloud of fog before seems heavier then the last. The moon that lights up the sapphire...
The conversation lasted two words:
Why?
No.
This was the conversation that I had with myself every day. It always followed the question that I asked myself after waking up from the dreams of my foolish heart. At night, in sleep, I would dream about him and the way things could be if only life were different. We could be and do amazing things together. Every night I dreamt and every day I asked.
Why?
No.
The words I held back from this daily conversation were the ones that hurt the most. They, were the truth. They were the words...
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...
There is a place, near where I used to live, that looked like this - you see it, right there? It's a bowling green. Not the bowling you and I would do, the bowling that belongs to another age. Mostly the elderly.
There were, in fact, two near me - high amusement, I can tell you, since we came to the conclusion that one had decided it was a rival for the other. And that said other had no idea that it existed. That this perceived rivalry would fuel them entirely, even though the other lived in blissful ignorance of...
I wonder, looking at the picture, who he was, to dream so... audaciously. Really. To even think he could surpass me-- us, I remember, looking over at her. Her belly is round and curved, like a ripe melon, and I smile. She does not reply; she is tinkering with some wires. I am sure in a few minutes she will have something ready that will sell for millions.
The man in the photo is looking off to the side at something else. He is wearing a bulky waistcoat. I should think he epitomizes the stereotypical inventor. Indeed, the fantastical creation...
What can you do in ten seconds? Where is the world going to? How quickly can you build a wall to Mexico and who will be the last to place a stone? Questions like these will not get us anywhere said the policeman but if we stand together then no mouse can slip inbetween our shoulders and we can finally eat all the pancakes we ever wanted to, with or without maple syrup. I thought he is really going insane, because we were in Alaska and since the sun never sets it is very bright and how can you make...
Sam, having slung hot dogs into buns on the street corner for the majority of his 35 years, had seen a lot. A lot of anger, a lot of hurt, a lot of disgust. He though he had seen it all until today. He served up the Ball Park Frank with sauerkraut as he usually did, hot off the grill and dripping with grease, and the blue collar recipient took it in hand, as they usually do, and generously dressed it with the brown spicy mustard that was the typical street corner fare. They never had time for much else--eating...
They were listening. Outside of the door, on the floor, in their footed pajamas. Listening while they heard yelling from their Mom and Dad. Listening to "Leave, I hate you," and "How could you love him and not me?" Holding empty sippy cups, on the verge of crying because they didn't know what was going on. Sitting there outside the door with their matching blonde hair and matching haircuts with matching faces. The twins Andrew and Erik holding each a stuffed cow and an empty sippy cup. Andrew started crying, screaming for his parents. The door opened, he stopped crying....