I woke around dawn, unable to sleep any longer. I wrapped the plaid blanket around my shoulders and head and climbed out the window. I walked through the small amout of dawn light filtering through the Brazilian pepper tree's enormous branches. I looked through the small peephole i had left for myself and immediately regretted ever climbing out that window. The reason: a 2 ton bear hurtling towards me. I felt unable to breathe. I tried to run, but my feet were rooted to the spot. as the bear drew closer, i said but one word: HELP!
The crow sat on it's perch, silently watching the moon. It wonders how far the moon is, and if it could reach it using just it's own wings. But of course it couldn't, because he was just a bird. The crow wonders what it's like to be free, and remembers it's life before it was a bird. The crow was once a happy young boy, but he was known for his many tricks. He was a mischievous boy, and he tricked one too many people in his life. Finally, he tricked a traveling wizard out of money, and the wizard...
They were listening to Bach while they sculpted windmills out of Play-doh. The Play-doh was blue. Aunt Gertrude would only allow blue Play-doh in the chalet. It had been that way since the accident.
Aunt Gertrude was 78 years old and she had no arms or legs. She had cut them off in 1983 as a display of devotion to Reggie, her pet octopus. Reggie could have cared less. I remember my Aunt as she wielded the chainsaw, slicing off her limbs, bathing everything in warm red gore. Reggie could care less. He just emitted some ink. Even when Aunt...
They were the best of friends, but the worst of enemies. My husband and his brother would become like tigers fighting for turf or for female companionship. And they would never stop. I liked it when we first met because, of course, my husband, then my roommate's friend, fought for the right to sit beside me at the dinner table, to talk to me, and would find all sorts of ways to stop his brother from any contact.
He didn't have to do that. I didn't like his brother much. They looked exactly alike, although there were 10 months between...
I walked along the flat stones that made up the busy road and let the bustling crowds swallow me whole. My heart pounds in my ears. I hear a sharp shout from behind me and instictively dive over the bright green barrier. I press my body into the lush grass and take shallow breaths. The sound of thousands of footsteps set my nerves on edge. For a moment, my mind wanders to the many times my friends and I used to play hide and seek in this garden when we were younger. Children squealing in delight and running in circles....
I have a cat.
Look at my cat. This is my cat. I have a cat.
The cat likes it when I hold it. The cat likes to put its paws on my shoulders. It is my cat. I have a cat.
The cat is tawny and it likes looking at the sky on snowy days. It is not cold because it has fur. I am not cold because I have a warm jacket and a toque. I have a cat.
My cat has a name. Its name is Cat. That's right. Cat. Cat is a cat. Cat the cat....
He was no more than a barely-significant piece of a gargantuan puzzle. His ambitions, he was told, shouldn't have been as high as they were.
But, anyway, who did they think they were to tell him that?
Their opinions weren't going to stop him. Who cared if someone told him it wasn't possible, he knew he'd make it, as all obstacles can be overcome with the right amount of will.
He had but one obstacle, the Russian feline who lived mere meters away from him, and wanted nothing other than having his taste buds touch his insides. Oh he'd get...
Millions of people left the coasts and ran into the dry middle of the country. The plains and prairies were filled with tents and lean-tos. Smoke rose from fire pits as the tall grass and grain bent in the strong winds.
The coasts flooded. The storm crashed and smashed the cities that had harbours.
But the people in the dry middle of the country were safe.
Safe for now.
The country was flooded. People said they only had half the land they used to.
And even then, it was the dry, grassy rolling hills in the middle. The people used...
But I call it "swing theory." It's sort of an uneducated, improvised explanation of how everything clicks. How one digs the atom. Why one gets so coo-coo for photons. What hip event is on the horizon.
It's crazy, baby. Quantum bums.
"I've got a loaded weapon and I'm not afraid to use it!" she shouted, holding the cat in her arms like an AK-47 as the snow swirled around her on the open playing field.
"You touch my snowman again and I will set the cat on you!"she snarled, walking menacingly towards the group of chav-scum teenagers who were busy kicking over her children's carefully constructed snowmen.
"Oh yeah, as if we're scared!" one of them challenged her. She just smiled, peeled back her black balaclava and revealed her badly scarred face. "He did this last month." she said simply, and...