In order to choose her shoes, Chloe consulted her "Big Book 'o Footwear" every morning while getting ready. Whenever she bought a new pair of shoes, she'd put them on and snap a Polaroid of her feet so she could get a decent idea of how she'd look in them without actually having to try them on. Her fiancee thought this was ridiculous, but she thought it was quite a time-saver. Plus, he had no room to criticize--he often brushed his teeth while peeing.
She opened the envelope and screamed.
"He's coming to get me!" Keri shouted, "Zachary's coming to get me!"
Keri wanted nothing more than to leave her life in New York and move South to be with Zachary.They dated briefly, he proposed, she said no, and that was it. It wasn't just that she said no, he wasn't entirely serious and she was only 18.
Keri married Jack a few days before her 25th birthday, and she was completely in love with him. She never forgot Zachary, even on their wedding day. Zachary, or Zak as she called him, was her...
Erring on the side of caution I took two of the smaller ones. Just like breakfast, or a night on the town. My body was made for loving and tingling and vibrating with the eternal cosmic hum. I am old enough now to understand the consequences of my actions and of my non actions. The universe provided me with feet so that I may find a place to put my dancing shoes.
My feet ached, but it was well worth it.
I wonder who had said that? They were idiots, whoever they were. My feet ached, and it was not worth it at all. I hated every moment of it. Every moment of the scorching heat, the desperate gulps at tepid water, the people by me, and the sweat, like some gift from a relative you hated, anyways. Anyways. I don't know why I did it. Wasn't for her, that much I know. I was past her, and was glad to be rid of the stupid promises. But it wasn't for myself,...
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. But was pushed away, rudely by a tall man. He walked in, I had seen him before. Years younger. The features were still the same. He walked straight for me, not hesitating. Called to me: "Jacob.". The voice too was familiar but different somehow. His eyes were my father's, the nose too. But it was not him, nor was it my brother.
He talked fast: "I have to prove something."
I didn't know how to reply, I couldn't place him. That face, I felt if I...
I didn't want to do it, really. Jimbo was fooling around at the register and the clerk was eying us nervously. Next thing I know I'm holding the gun while Jimbo vaults the counter. He's crazed and scared and mad and his voice is shaking and the clerk is pissing himself and I know this is gonna end bad. I'm waving the gun like a toy and I get this weird feeling in my gut and my head starts to sing and I feel anger well up and my vision narrows and I'm yelling too now and the guy is...
The window was a lot harder to get open than I expected. I guess they aren’t really designed to be opened, but they do open if you pull hard enough. The air felt good; fresher higher up than on the lower floors. And I could see the cityscape below, half hidden in morning mist. It was going to be a beautiful day.
My office was private, not one of the cubicles most of the employees occupied, like rows of Dilberts enjoying only partial privacy. I had earned my space by bringing in the numbers. I had worked my way up...
The daring were punished but Alexia hated living at boarding school. She slipped her feet out from under the blanket on her bed, already fully clothed. Quietly, so as not to wake the other girls, she walked to the window, grabbed a warm shawl to wrap around her shoulders, and flung her legs out over the edge of the window sill. She carefully propelled herself forward, flew gracefully through the air, and landed on the ground beneath her window.
A smile spread across her face as she began to walk away from the large brick building that had been her...
I'm trying to hang on, really I am. My arms are tired and my muscles burn as sweat and tears find their way into my eyes, making them sting. "Hang on," you say. What if I fall? What then? Can you catch me if I fall? I think I might slip. My fingers are striped red and white from gripping this rockface for such a long time and my head is spinning. I can't make sense of anything for one horrible moment and then I am surrounded by water. I realize that I have fallen into the ocean. The last...
Mr. Sippee is the new owner of the Turtle House. Mac and I met him on Tuesday. There he was, sitting on the roof, waving to the swans. We went up, cause Mac had his own ladder. "Hi kids," says Mr. Sippee. Then he jumped off the roof. Down he fell. One storey. Two storeys. Three. Crash into a pile of broken marble.
Up gets Mr. Sippee. His head is cut in half and blood is dripping from his ears. But no matter. Out he pulls a needle and thread and gol durn but he sews his head right back...