Again, stepping on his rake. Not in the groin I thougt in an that terrible instant; too late. From behind the hydrangia bush he appeared like a plaid and argyle ninja. "Where ya headed Murphy?" "You know goddamned well were I'm headed you old sot!" I waved the pictures at him, in front of heavy ugly fat face. "I'm sending a copy of this to everyone you know."
One scoop chocolate, one scoop blood.
I went inside the intensive care unit and felt the humid air. Everyone--mum, Paulie, Randy and grampa--was there. I approached dad's bed and leaned my right ear to his mouth.
He was asphyxiating, and there's no doubt he's going to get through another day. Yet, his words echoed through my head like a whisper resounding inside a cave.
I told him I just did the regular errand and took care of some things for him. He stopped.
"Come here often, do you?" The old man said. He was sitting on the iron bench waiting, like me, for the bus. His clothes were a little ratty and he smelled faintly of moth balls. I didn't know what to say to him being as this was my first time here.
"No, sir. You?" I replied, awkwardly.
"Been coming to this stop for, oh, must be twenty years now." He said, shifting his cane a bit. His dark glasses hid his eyes and I wondered if he were blind.
"Ah...well..." I trailed off. I've never been one for socializing with...
"Josh, I'm leaving." She felt the tears burning behind her eyes as she spoke. A look of hurt, confusion, and concern began to etch lines into his forehead as he stood.
"What do you mean, you're leaving? Where are you going? Why?"
"You know why I'm leaving. I can't just stand by and watch everything from my old life die away while they try to rebel against the things your family are doing to them! I can't be here while my life is with them." The confusion and hurt vanished from Josh's face, but the concern remained, softening his grey...
Midnight on the roof. lt was always midnight up there. Something about a previous tennant of the penthouse, and some demigod battle to save the Earth (again). So, the inhabitant of 63B was quite unusual, due to the fact that she was blissfully unaware that none of the other inhabitants were in any way human. It quite endeared her to them, this special lady in her unspecialness. She even managed to use Mjolnir (Thor,s Hammer) to hang a picture one day, politely requesting it of him when he came to visit Loki, who was imprisoned on the fourth floor.
Wine. Specifically, white. She hated white wine. She wanted red. The buzzing warm feeling was building. Building the way it had when she'd been inside the LHC doing maintenance. No one knew she'd been there. No one could explain how she'd survived. Then in a blink, she hadn't been. That was when she realised something Quantum had happened.
She perceived a reality where the waiter had gotten the wrong bottle from the shelf, picking red instead of the sought for white. He'd lose his job later that day for continued disobedience. His wife would commit suicide in four months, when...
I don't know, I just feel like I'm not really here at the moment. My mind is always somewhere else. I don't know where though, for you see I have actually lost my mind.
I feel like I'm split into four people. The solid me? She's just not present right now, I don't know where she is. Like I said, I lost her. I didn't mean to though...
I promise.
The saddest thing about losing me, is that nothing ever feels 'right' anymore. You know what I mean! That gut feeling you get when you make decisions or when you...
I climbed the building step by step, not running, only tip-toeing, afraid to be heard. No one knew I was here, and no one will ever know. I will leave no trace.
I reach the roof, opening the door to a world of fresh air and new possibilities. I took one step and imagined what people may have ventured up here.
The newly met couple. The boy and girl hardly know each other, yet trust each other with everything they have. They don't have long, he leaves to go home in two weeks time and she has to go back...
Mike had been walking for hours. Flamin' car. He knew he shouldn't have bought that old banger from Rob. The heat was belting down; it must have been at least 25 celsius. 'Hey, that's hot in Newcastle', he could hear himself saying defensively to Rob who always took holidays in Tunisia and Morocco.
The tarmac was beginning to soften and the collar on his shirt was chafing. No way he'd make that interview now. His first chance to get up the ladder in years, he'd been picturing telling Rob for ages, and now he'd blown it. Or, rather, the car...
"What's taking you so long, dad?"
I'm eight, and we are on a fishing trip, and I'm having a terrible time. My father is attempting to set up our antique tent and making a great mess of things. He is not the type to keep particularly organized. Perhaps it was he who passed that onto me.
"This goddamn rod is bent all to shit," he grumbles. He always used to curse when he was irritated, which was often. I always knew to steer clear of him in those moments or he would find some arbitrary task for me to do...