In the harsh twilight, he knelt and dug.
In the bottom of the phoenix-grave, he spread the spores that would feed on and support the beginnings 0f all life.
In the sharp, glassy soil, he placed the seeds of a new planet.
In the unmeasured, empty space of an hour, he changed the course of the universe.
In the flat gray expanse of weathered silicates, three thousand potatoes rested.
In the dead methane-carbon dioxide atmosphere, the harsh actinic sun slanted down, undimmed by ozone.
In the cool, moist air of his time machine, he left the dawn of the world,...
"Damnit Christine, god damnit, call 911!" I shouted, dropping my sisters limp body on the bed. There was froth around her mouth, and her eyes were closed. Her lips were bee-stung swollen and blue.
It was too late. Here dark curls were tangled in my lap, wet with leave in them.
I turned her on her side, and water dribbled from her mouth. CPR, how did it go? It didn't matter. My little girl was gone. That foam told me all I needed to know.
My sister came in, the phone in her hand.
" they are coming."
" tell...
AwesomeAwesome. The goal is to write like the wind? I think not. Friday is a black day for productivity. This is illustrated in our hero, Freewrite. Optimism is a dying breed in Friday, where nothing gets done, and we must relax. we are constricted by it. Freewrite goes on a quest, to the edge of Friday, on a sacred quest to find Work Ethic, said to redeem the last Optimisms in the land. But the victory, my friends, is that Work Ethic is not found, but made. Hard work redeems Optimism, comrades. specially on a Friday, when I could eat...
She opened the envelope and screamed. Years of waiting for a transplant, and they'd finally found a donor. It was as if, in that one moment, all of her worries had been put to rest.
She didn't think about the possibility of complications. She didn't worry about whether or not her insurance would cover it. Those were all things she'd have on her mind later -- but for now, all she had was the joy of knowing things do get better.
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.
Two weeks ago, she had rebelliously boarded a ship from the island of Taiwan, left her grandparents who had raised her, and traveled back to China to find her parents -- who she wouldn't have recognized at all. She had been sent off as a baby during the Civil War; no sane Republican would have wanted their children brought up where intellectuals like her learned mother and her professor father were being publicly humiliated, abused. It is why she, as a baby, was sent away in...
I am a visitor. That is the only rule that this thing between us has. That I am just visiting in your life. The briefest glance into a world of possibility. The portal to an alternate universe where lightsabers and superheroes exist is opened up for us in the single moment which we let ourselves have.
You have a girlfriend. I have a complication. But in those stolen moments, kisses, touches, dances, laughs, looks, jokes... each precious second taken from reality and given to us is the only victory that I am ever going to need. Because it is in...
The year was 1986, when Madonna was telling her father not to tell her what to do, and life changed beyond my own imagination. The holiday had been planned for ages, but I had no desire to spend two terminally tedious weeks camping with my younger sisters. I had Mark, with his dark hair and warm lips, and I couldn't bear to leave him for a fortnight. He might fall under a bus, or worse, fall for Jayne Marsden and he stilletto heels.
She lay on the water, trying hard to keep her lungs inflated. She started to sink, keeping her nose and mouth above water. As for the rest of her, it was completely surrounded by water. her light linen dress was soaked. She kept her arms behind her, just in case she hit the bottom of the lake. as water consumed her nose and mouth, all she saw, all she thought, all she felt, was the end. She was dying anyway. Why not speed it up a bit?
I am a Georgian. That, my family name, my faith, and the woman I love are central to my life. I was born a Georgian, in the Fruitcake Capitol of the World where I went to school, struggled with Spina Bifida and being constrained by this wheelchair. Yet, I persevered. I went on to college, studying history and graduating with a BA in Liberal Arts.
I am a strong opponent of child abuse and of ignorance in all forms. For the past ten years I have been a member of the Sons of Confederate Veterans, a fraternal organization devoted to...
The running wasn't the best part - but it was the part he did best. With pumping arms and striding legs, he moved gracefully around the track, passing others without a second thought or glance, as though there were mere statues standing still and in his way.
The best part was the winning. But he wasn't a very good winner. Oh, he smiled and shook hands and took his trophy or medal and posed for photos, but he was already thinking about the next race. And when fellow runners came to congratulate him, he didn't care. He was, if such...