The pistol was cocked... Ready to go. I didn't know what to do...
Should I shoot? Should I run? It was a question which required some thought. But I had no time to think.
I needed to think back to my college philosophy classes. Fight or flight. Talk or smoke.
So... I reached into my pocket slowly, all the while showing my pistol...
"Just let me show you my credentials"
hen I dropped my pistol. Then I ran.
Bombs were the last thing on his mind. So, when the topic came up, Ben was staring out the window thinking about his date tomorrow with Liz and wondering how much longer he had to sit in that room.
"Ben, could you add something here?" Lou, his coworker begged. Ben straightened himself up and focus on the men sitting around the conference table.
"Um..." He gave Lou a bewildered look.
"About the B-12A's." Lou helped him out, "About the specifics."
"Oh, yeah, of course." Ben stood up and approached the schematic on the overhead, "As you see it's a small...
The disco ball was turning, shattering the darkness with screaming light, the dawn silence splintered by horns, a cannon firing a thick ball of needles. The huns are at the wall, threatening the structure with bass drum. We fire back with tight snare. We are on the move, churning into time, a polyester & corduroy hypno-wheel mesmerizing the gods of youth.
"There are no gods!" shouted Robbie Pinsker and deftly crossed his heavy skates, rolling backwards to the clarion call of the Village People.
Stephanie Friedman invited the whole class to her party at the roller rink. I arrived sheepishly....
It's 2.35 pm now and Mary is sitting in the room. She is bored and restless. She has been restless for most days. She misses the one person who has changed her life drastically.
Mary was always the girl who is eager, fun loving and very much in love with life. She loves the wind in her hair, the pleasant birds chirping in the window. She is easy to be around with.
But this time of day, she was restless.It is not about the heat of the sunny day or the humidity of the weather. She misses someone. She is...
"The key to the door is lying on the floor, a meter and a half to your right," it instructed. The more it spoke, the more unnatural it seemed to Jolene, the more artificial. Synthesized.
Slowly she followed its directives, feeling along the stone-cold floor in the dark. "Be quick," it admonished her tonelessly.
Finally her fingers brushed it; her pounding, she seized the key and stumbled her way back to the door. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be calm, and carefully inserted the key into the lock. To her relief, it turned, and the door moved...
Spinning.
The tiny clockwork bird danced (for want of a better term) in a circle, twirling, singing out its jaunty song.
She sat, watching it sing out its tune, listening to the unique tinny sound of the music box - there was something about that music, that paticular brand, which brought her back to childhood. As a child she had watched the bird, watched it in her mother's palm.
Her mother had, briefly, convinced her that this was a real bird, that this was what happened to them when they were caught, tamed. That you could teach them these songs,...
Turning the copper penny over and over between his fingers, Miguel slowly let out a long sigh. He stared at the penny that rested upright between his middle and pointer finger, perfectly round, and now perfectly worn, so much so, that one could barely distinguish Abe Lincoln sitting in that giant chair, save for honest Abe's long beard.
Miguel walked on through the dusty streets of a town that sat on the border between his country and the golden land of opportunity. The burning sun started to set, slowly making its way down the flat horizon, setting fire to everything...
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...
I'll be back as quick as I can to write this story, I need a poo.....
Oh shit! 3 seconds Lef
They were trapped for seven days. But not seven nights? No, not seven nights. They were able to go their homes at 5 PM, but they had to report back to the avalanche at 7 AM sharp. Tim always arrived five minutes early so he could finish his coffee.
It was an unusual set-up, but one everyone could agree on. After all, who wants to be trapped for that long, and at night to boot? You'd miss all your favorite shows! Cindy couldn't miss the one about mean people trapped on an island together, which she guessed was ironic. They...