The car idled at the end of the line. Traffic hadn't moved in more than 20 minutes. She was getting more and more nervous. How would she ever make her flight if they didn't get through soon. She got out of the car and walkd a head a little. what was going on that was keeping traffic tied up. she walked a little further. she saw the crowd of people gathered in the street. The worried faces, the mumbling of low voices. In the middle of all this sat a little girl. She couldn't be more than 2 years old,...

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Sean
By Jane Jones

He was late again. This had happened a lot over the past month and tonight she was determined to find out why.

She had been busy all day clearing out his wardrobe. He never did this and sometimes it annoyed her so she did it for him and it was beans on toast for his dinner. She hated doing him beans on toast as she always thought it was not a proper dinner but tonight she just wanted to make him happy so beans on toast it was going to be.
She poured herself another glass...

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story by Monsterbat, typed by mom:

"Sit up, please."

She sat up, her hair gleaming, her eyes glistening. She'd gotten these for free since she had gotten the deal. Show one picture of yourself in the magazine, get one physical therapy session free. She said, "You aren't very qualified at this; are you?"

Another arm got wrenched off. "Oops, sorry."

"You know what, that's it. Even if I'm a zombie, I have some rights. And if I hadn't eaten the court, I'd take you to one." Blood started dripping from her lips.

"Why don't you make a zombie court," he...

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Wine. The God of the Sublime. Dionysian times cured the ill humored people by taking grapes, fermenting them, turning it all into a drinkable solution that would cure terrible moments in a life by twisting them slowly away with each sip of this smooth purple pulp.

I felt the first effects of wine when my friends and I would buy a cheap bottle of Yellow Tail, pop off the cork and take slow swigs as if this was our solution to boredom, happiness, sadness, and just life in general. We sipped as if wine was our blood, our fuel, our...

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I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.

It occurred a while back, and while I was living, I thought it was pretty unfair. Most people get 60, 70 years of life. Enough people got 30 or 40 years of life.

I got 25. By the time you're 25, you're only finally getting your last degree, your first bit of experience, stepping over that last big stone in your path before you enter the real world. The one where you earn enough money to do...

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When I was younger, I remember all of the pressure that was placed on me to be good enough.

The training that I had to endure, to get where I am today. At the top of my game.

But I keep asking myself? "Is this really what I want? Am I'm living for myself, or for others?"

I turned the medallion in my hands as I thought of how all I wanted to do was to make them proud! My parents, and my coach.

But now that's in the past.

Now I realize that what I want, and what they...

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George's house was a hubcap magnet. Hubcaps came weekly, flying through the air at his windows or car or yard like some sort of kamikaze attack. He didn't know why this was, it just was.

First he attempted to board his windows up. This left him with shards of broken wood and slightly bent hubcaps. Eventually he settled on iron shutters. He felt a bit like a drug lord huddling in his iron plated house. Only it was more like a drug lord who frequently wore red converse sneakers and chinos.

It wasn't as if he lived in a high...

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In the clouds. That was the place to be when it was high summer. Three young angels danced through the morning mist, white linen gowns making no sound as they moved. "Dahlia, when will the mist clear so we can collect the first morning light?" asked one. "When it clears, Opal." Dahlia said patiently, looking at her empty jar. "Be patient, you two. The mist will clear soon, i can just see the sun." said the last, sitting on a rock. Suddenly, the morning sun burst through the mist, lighting the world. The three angels were quick. They scooped up...

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I'm with stupid. It's Jerry's favorite T-shirt. He wears it all the time. It doesn't matter where we're going, he'll wear the shirt. Church, court, the museum-- he just shrugs his shoulders and gives me that grin when I ask him not to wear it. The more inappropriate the occasion, the more it seems to spur him to wear it.

Jerry's never really cared about impressions, that I get. But he also doesn't seem to get that I do. Sometimes, I think he gets some sick pleasure out of watching me squirm while he's talking to a prospective client at...

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He didn't even pack. He just picked up a satchel and left. He knew it'd been over for a while, but last night was when he was finally able to summon the courage to do it.

When people heard what he'd done, they'd offer their condolences. But he didn't see it as a sad thing. He saw it as a new beginning, as new horizons.

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