"Write," she instructed.
So he did. He wrote. He wrote of many things, and when he was done, he presented the neatly bound typewritten pages to her. She didn't even look at them.
"Write more."
He wrote more. He wrote of how he felt when the sun in the afternoon cast dappled lines across the floor. He wrote about prison bars and he wrote about prison food. He wrote about her, and how her dark hair was short and clipped above her ears. He wrote about how her brown eyes pierced his soul and tore him apart and all he...
It was raining. It seems like it was always raining these days. What with the movements of this air flow pattern and that air flow pattern, Chicago had been caught in the middle of a vortex. And all the moisture and condensation of the Earth seemed to dump here.
So, I waded through the puddles and small rivers forming in the streets. Cars were uncomfortably close to being a little too deep in trenches of the alleyways.
I crossed this street and that road. On my way to meet a friend, someone that I use to know. Back when the...
It was inexplicable that two latino, hipster twenty-somethings from East Los Angeles would talk like 85-year-old Jewish retirees from Queens, yet that was how it was.
"Pull ovah and ask fuh direck-shuns," shouted Isabel.
"I know where I'm going!" Ricky replied with a Yiddish accent that seemed to come from nowhere. "You always do this! You always want to undermine my AUTHORITY!"
He exclaimed very loudly, mostly because he was hard of hearing and couldn't monitor his own pitch. Isabel was silent for a second, silently mouthing words to herself. Then, as if in an afterthought, she said, "You just...
The zephyr through the thin strands of hair on his forehead produced a little fandango; the wind brought the music and the sun brought the party.
The Queen had personally requested his presence for the opening of this exhibition, it was meant to show the culture, the class, of the kingdom.
But this Bohemian was not here at some petty whim of Her Majesty. He was here for something more majestic than any monarch, that most glittering, glamorous goal. He was here for a girl.
Golden hair, blue eyes, red lips, petite smile; a man would kill for such a...
"Wait, so he hit you?"
I nodded furiously, still trying to chew what was left in my mouth before retelling the all-to-famous story of how "Yes, he hit me." No one every seemed to believe me.
But it happened. No kidding. It really happened. He hit me.
Not that I would tell anyone. Ya know, other than my best friends.
Okay, so a lot of people.
It's not a big deal. I swear.
So this is how it goes. Or at least, how I remember it. . .
I was in the backyard, wading my feet in the pool...
The last I saw of the angel was at sunrise yesterday. I knew that one day I'd meet him again, the certainty was so strong that the actual date and time felt on the tip of my tongue. Morgan is the name he gave me. Morgan Freemantle. He appeared at my side just when I needed some one the most, when my sister collapsed on our long walk away from our home, the abuse, neglect.
As I was comforting her, smoothing her long blond hair away from her sweating face, telling her everything would be ok even though we were...
On the corner of Drake Street, I waited. I was waiting for a change, for something better, for coincidence to happen upon me. And I felt this would happen there, on the corner of Drake Street.
This was like the corner's corner, with multiple slabs of the ornate bank building merging with one another. With so much coinciding, I felt there must be a high level of coincidence in this spot. And would coincidence lead me to the mysterious woman I so desperately wanted to run into, merge with? Coincide?
It helped her features were angular, from her thin arms...
I will put my fingers together and pull the grass up from the roots. I will do it before my mother comes outside. If I don't she'll ask "what have you been doing out here all this time?" But if I do, I'll have something to show for myself. I'll give her the stalks of grass as if they are flowers. She may thank me, but she more likely will wonder why I bothered to dig up the good grass.
I will move away from home one day soon. I will plant a garden where I live. I will make...
They say that I come from a family of heroes. And I suppose that is true. Uncle George, who rescued an entire family from a burning building. Cousin Bethany, the dashing soldier. Cousin Allister, who sailed his boat up river and discovered the Lost Tribe of Allawak. My father, the boxer and revolutionary. Great Aunt Marya, who sang so sweetly that she brought down the Monster Carescu, him and his entire government. Great great great Gramma Florence and Granpa Sidney, who together fought brigands for some queen in some other country. They were quite dashing I am told. As others...
I wondered how it could be that she wanted me to do such a terrible thing. She promised that she wouldn't tell my wife.
"Experience has taught me that sisters do not keep secrets from each other."
She couldn't stop staring at me.
I assumed she thought it was sexy. I just saw alimony payments and the cold stare of an ex-wife. And yes, let's not forget the angry words of a father-in-law who never really did like me in the first place. Well, you can't blame the man, when I remember that he caught me and my then girlfriend...