You can count me out. Everybody knows he's not my favorite person. I'm not debating that.
Take the way he eats: He makes these noises. He SINGS the chewing. It sounds sort of charming right at this moment, but in point of fact it's gross. Nobody wants to hear a turkey dinner set to Ave Maria. Two weeks planning a meal, you want a moment of silence. Some good old-fashioned reverence. What's happened to that -- what is it -- an emotion? These days, it's gone.
As I said, I don't like the man. But I also don't like crows...
These hands. These hands have felt and touched so much
in their years of attachment to the wrist. Now growing old
with creases deepening and becoming weathered by time.
And these eyes. The optic scope of the world that this body
has had the power to see through and deeply into the
wonderful mysteries that surround us- but some may forget,
as if there are greater things to think about than where do colors
come from. And these ears, hearing their way through city streets
by night and taken to different heights by day as the world
erupts with a...
Andy abhorrs aggressive people, but he adores alliteration. He likes sunlight, and soft things, and words that start with the same letter as his name. Andy doesn't like to be touched, but he likes to touch things. Soft things are the best, especially Maggie's dog with his shaggy fur and smiling face. Sometimes, Andy likes to sleep on him, and Maggie lets him. Andy has a good life most of the time, when people leave him alone or when he gets chips for his tea. He likes wearing no socks and feeling the grass between his toes, because it's soft,...
The disco ball was turning whilst paramedics worked on the bodies. It was the worst ever disaster they had encountered inside a club. Tiny mirror squares reflected human carnage, twisted metal, unrecognizable things beyond possible description.
The public were told an explosion caused the building to collapse inwards trapping everyone including the emergency crews. Dreadful tragedy. Months of mourning.
Dan a fourteen year old hacker managed to get into a computer that isn’t supposed to exist. His parents listed him missing hours after he posted the truth on the internet - that all survivors of the explosion were killed on...
Boxes upon boxes upon boxes upon boxes.
Buried beneath more boxes and found deep below
even more boxes. We've built our lives around such
boxes. Filling them with such weighty things, keeping
them around because we're afraid to toss them and
who knows if we'll need their contents again
sometime in the future? We've built castles with these
boxes, making them larger and stronger fortresses
each day, stacking them on top of each other, careful
to not knock anyone else over. I, on the other hand,
don't like to keep boxes. They're too square and uncomfortable.
They remind me of...
The maple leaves will change and fall with a certain grace - November will begin.
Carla read that sentence in her Literature textbook over and over, and the thought that kept running through her mind was, 'Who edited this book?'
That wasn't entirely true, but her internal monogue ran along these lines. Was she the only tenth grader who knew that semicolons connected independant phrases? Older people complained about how texting was ruining the language, but what difference did that make when a text book author, in what she assumed was an edited textbook ILLUSTRATING the language, couldn't even catch...
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...
Everyone was on board for the show. They had their fly gear and their hats. I, of course, forgot my sunglasses.
"No problem," mama said, "just squint!"
As we lined up, I squinted at the audience. It never ceased to amaze me that the entire population of a town would stop what it was doing to watch our show every week. But they did. All fifty-four of them, including the dogs.
I was getting antsy. This week, I was the leader! Never before had a child led the show! I wasn't nervous; there's no room for nerves in show-biz. However,...
"It's called a goldfish."
"Goldfish? Not much of a name."
"That's right. Wasn't much of a fish, either. They used to be so plentiful that we kept them as pets. Put them in bowls."
"Used to be?"
"That's right."
"So you kept fish, but you didn't eat them?"
"Not only that, we fed them."
"You had THAT much food?"
"Yes. Yes, son, we did."
"That must've been swell."
"That's right. It sure was. Careful, now. Don't fiddle with the cords, keep the net still. We don't want them to know we're up here. Mama needs us to be brave and...
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...