One day, in the morning, not the afternoon, I was eating cheese. When I finished my block of cheese I noticed that there was an interesting amount of wind outside and I thought to myself, "Self, let us harness this power." So as I wrote down my many ideas of how to harness the power, one sprang out off of the paper and said "Use me!". It was my idea to harness wind with wind. I decided to blow up 6 balloons, 3 pink, 3 purple. I would travel the world, literally wherever the wind took me, because, if you...
"Dragonflies are good luck," his grandmother used to say. "They are fairies' horses. Their wings spread wishes and wonder."
He remembered that and not much else about her. They would sit in the grass by the shore of the lake. He used to spend three weeks every summer out at his grandparents house. They picked blueberries and chopped wood, made cookies and walked in the woods.
He was an adult now. They were long dead.
His daughter stood in front of him, frowning, hands onm hips. "That's not true, daddy. Dragonflies are dragonflies, not horses. And fairies don't exist."
He...
Leonard stumbled back. He almost fell. His heart raced and sweat stuck his shirt to his belly and back and armpits. He'd had patients worse off than Bea, patients with bloody ends, with pointless existances, tortured creatures that lived and died hooked to electricity and strapped to beds. None with the relative safety and comforts that he'd been treating Bea in, the comfort of home.
This was a scheduled meeting in the garden, she'd come from the trees, barefoot, bare arms, makeup garishly applied and with the gauzy veil over her face. His boy would laugh, he imagined, would point...
The body is the lie. The woman who speaks to you face-to-face
with a carefully controlled flex of muscles around the eyes
and the upward curve of just one side of her mouth
that tells you "I'm amused at whatevever joke you just told"
The polite look of interest that cleverly morphs into concern
with a downward press of eyebrows
and a slight lean forward accompanied by a sympathetic noise
they are all walls that look like doors
You would know it for the avatar it is
if you realized she never reaches out a hand,
never bridges that social...
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. It had been an hour since the torrential downpour started. It was only a matter of time before she realized that she would not make it to her own wedding and so she closed her eyes and concentrated very hard. Blood began to trickle from her delicate nose, sullying her piercing white make-up. As so, crows' feet around her eyes displayed her delicate skin underneath. The rain started to lighten gradually and the street seemed to get brighter second by second, inch by inch. The rain...
The lamp wouldn't turn on. Stupid thing, thought Lisa as she slammed her fist against it. That's what you get for buying cheap tat, though. She was a sucker for a bargain, or anything she perceived to be a bargain. There was of course, a vast difference. One time she had bought three crates of dog food from a clearance store.
'But you haven't got a dog!' her boyfriend had cexclaimed.
'Yes, but it was so cheap!' she had countered. This logic making perfect sense to her.
She tapped the lamp again, absent mindedly. Nothing. Not even a flicker. Zilch....
The detective sighed and adjusted the Stetson balanced on his head, fingers rubbing the brim lightly. "Where're the survivors?" he asked, looking over to his deputy. "They're over that way. Shaken up, but there were more survivors than deaths." he replied, gesturing down the tracks to a small mob of people milling alongside the derailed train. The detective nodded. The crash was most likely an accident, but the police had to investigate anyway.
He staggered down the embankment dotted with scraggly sage to the wreck. The red dust of the desert clay had been kicked up in the skidding crash,...
"And now, a nice, juicy twist. That's it. Keep twisting. One final push! Aaaaand release. Other side, now. Raise your left hand in the air, look toward the ceiling. Now twist!"
Sweat dripping from my brow down to my neck down to my collar bone down to my underwear. Release. Downward dog.
"Chataranga! Keep going guys, you're doing great!"
Heaviness of covers, you tuck me in as you leave. I don't stir, I don't breathe. Your receding back.
"Now breathe in, and let it go."
There were mountains. There were hours to drive. Everything I measure, I measure it like...
I crept silently through then corridor, the occasional creak of the floorboards abruptly halting me in my path.
The hallway was lit up by a dim nightlight, glowing a soft orange hue in the blackness. My shadow flared up the wall as I passed, and slowly shrunk back into the all-engulfing shadows.
A turn of a corner later, and I came face to face with a door. A door, which, when opened, would answer all my questions. I placed my ear to the keyhole, and made my bets attempt to silence my breath, and slow my pounding heart beat, trying...
Six minutes...
Was that really all he had left? Three hundred sixty seconds? Well, less than that, now.
He looked into the eyes of his family, gathered around him atop the hill.
What was a man supposed to do in a situation like this? Pray? Meditate? Impart wisdom? Plan some last words? They'd have to be really special... You only got one chance at Last Words.
He thought for a moment. Two hundred seconds, now.
He nodded imperceptibly, straightened his back, and reached for a pair of scissors. With a confident, even snip, he pulled away a handful of hair...