"But I don't understand," said Marie, carefully patting her French-inspired doo. She had enough hairspray on it to make it impervious, not only to wind, but to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune as well. "Why can't you explain this to me? What do you mean they've had enough cake?"
"Don't worry about it, Ms. Antoinette," said Katie Couric with a grin. "It's nothing to lose your head about."
*rimshot*
Swing.
I would sneak out my window at night when both my parents were asleep. I'd walk the block and a half to the schoolyard, sit in the middle swing of the playground and sing to myself until he got there. Then he'd push me gently to and fro while we talked about the day, about tomorrow, and the tomorrows after that.
Swing.
We met that way for a year until his parents found out and installed alarms on all their windows and doors. They thought it was drugs, or teenage trouble he was after. But it was just to...
The dream was better than waking. I floated, all the past troubles seeming to dissipate before my very eyes. Luke was nowhere to be seen, which was a relief, because in days past he had haunted my dreams mercilessly. I noticed that there was no one else in my dream, just a thick, white mist. Like a feather bed, i laid in the unusally substantial mist, in a mystical dreamlike state. I saw a shape, a dark figure coming through the fog. It was Nyxie, my facility director. Her red hair floated like me, but she kept to the ground....
Our eyes locked right before she went for the stuffed duck. I watched her bite it with resolution, shake her head back and forth like a dog. Her eyes met mine again with a clear and concise message: "My duck."
The duck became her best friend. I hardly talked to her unless she was eating my food. Then I yelled. It probably wasn't the most mature thing to do.. but what the hell. I fell in love from afar. I fell in love with her maple brown eyes, with her glistening nose, with her adorable whimper. She didn't know it...
She made her way through the brambles, trying not to ruin her dress. Harmony was in here somewhere, as were Peace and Hope. They called her 3 evenings ago, saying they were trapped. She had responded immediately to the call and ran to Serenity for help. She just told her to follow her instincts. As she made her way, she thought about her previous identity, the piece of her that had been erased. Suddenly, she saw Harmony, tied to a tree with a wolf growing closer. She pulled a stick from a tree and threw it at the wolf. It...
What's this then?I've never seen one of these before...it looks a bit suspicious to me.
It looks like food, but it has strange skin. I'll sniff it and see if it is food. Ugh! What a strange smell, like sweet smells that come on the winds. I'll lick it. Hmm..it tastes good, a bit salty though. It's moving, so it isn't dead yet. Argh...I can't get that awful taste out of my mouth. I could get poisoned if I eat this, but can I last another day without food? Pewk, that tastes bad.I think I'll leave this to the Hyenas,...
It was the fall that surprised me most.
Throughout my twenties, love had always been akin to a distant country: worth visiting perhaps, but out of my budget. I watched others travel to its shores with a lazy detachment and a very small amount of curiosity. There were other places to go. Other places to see. Love was not a final destination and those that went there seemed -- for the most part -- to be the eager embarrassing tourist types that I always avoided during my holidays.
Then I met Albert. The first thing I told him was that...
Lost, without a hand to hold. I imagine that's how some men feel in my position. As though everything they once had, all those they once knew, has gone forever. Because they were abandoned, or because they pushed it all away, who can say.
Yet it's weird, I've felt that way for so long, for so many years, I assumed that that would be how I felt at this moment. But somehow, staring at the noose before me, I've never felt more alive, and less alone.
I am guilty. I am innocent. I am a contradiction. And it doesn't matter....
There was a girl that I used to work with at the Goodwill who had eyes that were far too close together. Her body was pale and soft, but not a way that is sweet and makes me want to bullshit about marshmallow metaphors. Everything about her drove me to edge. Especially when she talked about her brother and how much they hated each other. I hated him, in my mind, just as much as I hated her.
On most days, she would rub her wrist in pain. The first time I ever asked about it was a mistake. She...