There was blood on my pillow. It's 6 a.m. and there is blood on my pillow. I started to try and remember what happened the night bfore. I struggled to remember, but then it hit me.
Last night I had gone to dinner with friends. We laughed, we ate, we drank. It was a good time. I was out really late and since i wasnt far from my home, I decided to walk. Thinking back to it, it was a bad idea.
On my way home i had to pass through a dark ally. I started hear strange noises. It...
Write as you please,
In six minutes,
Like a breeze.
I fear that,
Without a prompt,
The words won't flow,
Compet-
ently.
So I'll leave you this poem,
With it's oddities and misrhymes,
Mismatched verse and rhythms,
Lines that run out of time.
Words that make no sense,
Lines that are too dense,
And of course you must remember,
In this chilly month of September,
That poetry doesn't have to rhyme.
Her mother was going to kill them when they got home, but she couldn't help it. Flinging her legs high above the corn that surrounded them, she gave a happy giggle and sighed.
"What are you thinking of now?" Greg asked her, pressing a kiss to her hair as he stretched out an arm across her stomach.
"I was thinking of mother, and the stories she used to tell of boys in the corn fields." She put on a high pitched voice, eerily close to her mother's pitch, "they're only after one thing Rose. One thing!" Greg gave the girl...
Stepping slowly off the train, my eyes adjusted to the black blanket that cast itself over the old town in nowhere France, about three miles from the border of Belgium. Having no clue where I was, I tried to recount the previous events by fitting each individual awkward happening side by side, hoping their grooved edges matched so as the picture might unfold as a panorama landscape in my mind. Then, and only then, I might be able to tell myself why I had woken up in the black night, on a train in a foreign country that speaks a...
I have anxiety issues okay? I swear every time I come here its the same goddamn thing. All I need is to walk, so I approach the edge and give myself a minuscule pep-talk. "You can do it George, just a couple of steps", every day its the same thing and everyday.. I chicken out. I know, I know, ha.ha. very funny but this is a serious problem! How am I supposed to go anywhere in my short life when I literally can't go anywhere. Every time I approach that curb, the cars seeming to fly by, horns honking and...
"This, class, is an example of a cemetery. Does anyone know what a cemetery was?"
"A cemetery was a place where bodies were buried up until the last century when death was eradicated."
"Yes. That is correct. It is quite sad, isn't it?"
Janelle stood behind the old tree she used to climb when that sort of thing was appropriate for girls her age. In one hand she had the invitation to the party that she had printed out despite having long ago memorized all of the important details. In her other hand she held a glossy gift bag with a preposterously large red bow. Her mother had chosen the gift and she hadn't bothered to ask what it was. Her feelings about teh party were ambivalent to say the least. She hadn't heard from Kelly since the incident at Jared's house last...
CRASH! the window had shattered after being shoot by a gun. All of us shuddered at the sound what were we going to do. Were we going to die today?
I heard a scream not knowing where it had come from we all blindly ran away. I couldn't here anything, my vision had blurred suddenly I heard a bang. My bestfriend who was like a brother to me was shot. I could feel the tears running like waterfalls down my face but i kept running knowing my life was on the line. Whoever killed my bestfriend was going to die...
He didn't want to fuck her when he met her. That would have been too easy.
She had this way of pausing at the end of her sentences and looking up at him, teeth together, but lips apart. Her lips were plump, but small. Her eyes were hooded. Her hair was falling down from the top of her head.
She wanted him to fuck her. But he didn't really want to. It seemed to be something that she expected from him, and he wasn't one to do what was expected of him.
That fact that she didn't know he didn't...
The picnic table was empty still, except for a few crumbs from the previous diners. A trail of ants crawled over the splintered boards in to reach the bits of old bun. Theo watched them, beer in hand, as he waited for his father-in-law to finish grilling the food.
It was the first warm, sunny day of the year and Theo was joining his wife's family for barbecue. The smell of charring meat on the grill was enticing. The food almost done.
His wife, Sarah, played croquet on the lawn with her older brother and his wife and son.
—Food's...