They had only met a through days ago through the happy coincidence that they were staying at the same hotel on the same island at the same time. They had met at a bar, neither their friends back home would be surprised by that fact, and had become fast friends.
Gloria was twenty-one, a full time secretary who was travelling alone, just needing to escape the soap opera of a life she had back home.
Mallory was a second year student, on holiday with her mother, step-father and three much younger half-siblings. She had been relieved to find a kindred...
The radio program came back from commercial and the husky voiced woman continued talking about robots. Steve imagined her full lips moving closely to the microphone as she discussed how robots should and should not be used.
"Some people say it's unnatural to give the elderly a robot companion," she said. "But it gives them something to talk to, even if they never respond. Studies show that seniors who have pets are happier, and live longer. But a dog cannot answer either, so what's the opposition to robots?"
Steve thought that was a stretch of belief, but her thick whiskey...
Eternal life.
That's what he'd promised, wasn't it?
Jane didn't know the tall, dark-haired man who had approached her late that night. He appeared as if an apparition as she exited the lonely subway terminal on the way home from an excruciating double shift.
He had spoken just two words. Eternal life. It was a dreamlike declaration - not quite a question, not a statement, just a whisper. But that was impossible.
She had looked at him with a mix of fear and curiosity before shaking her head and walking briskly up the dimly lit staircase. Just before walking into...
drifting from the sky,
beams of light interrupted by their silent descent,
the tree sways,
growing slightly lighter as it's precious blossoms drift to the ground,
fragments of the past,
drifting silently,
making way for the future.
The lamp wouldn't turn on. Off, yes. around, yes. But on, absolutely not. No matter how many times he flipped the switch, no matter how many times he prodded it, shook it, swung it over his head, he could not get it to turn on. He decided to coax it. First he offered it things that humans like: chocolate, love and affection, sex. The lamp did not budge. Then he offered it things that his cat liked: mackerel, catnip, a laser. Nothing. He tried reasoning with it, but the lamp was dead to his entreaties. Look, he explained, you staying...
When I was in Beijing, my dear, I saw a small lass with an ape of a face crouched in an alley and weeping for who knows who. I noticed she was wearing the cheap red cape I bought for you in H&M. When I was in Istanbul I saw a knock-kneed street performer whose laugh was the same as yours. Some graffiti that I ran across somewhere on the east edges of Paris resembled your handwriting, when you scrawled notes left for me coming home legless and too late. I say this not to make you think there are...
Please! Stop!
He keeps walking away
and I
keep screaming.
No one seems to hear
the cries of a
broken girl.
I just want to be
whole again.
What do I need to do
to make them see
that I'm not worthless?
I don't have an answer
So I just keep screaming
until the screams turn to
tears.
sharp tears
tears that could kill.
They just might kill me.
Please.
Please. Stop.
Confusion. That's what I am currently experiencing. I used to believe that I was a self-assured and secure person, but now I'm not so sure anymore. From the countless times that I've been left feeling vastly empty and irrelevant, to the endless times that I've found myself searching for answers to unanswerable questions. I am confused. So what exactly am I confused about? Well, the cold hard truth, is that I am unsure myself. There is no specific person or object or aspect that I am confused about. I am just purely confused.
The corner. The only thing I've ever known since my childhood, is that goddamn corner. The corner of my suffering, the corner of my abuse. The corner where I would listen to my parents fight for hours on end. That dreaded corner. I'm Connor, aged 22, from Springville, Oklahoma. I've been stuck in my adoptive parents' home for thirteen years now.
My parents were murdered when I was nine, so family friends adopted me. It was nice at first, until they introduced me to that corner. The corner that took away my friends. The corner that took my freedom. The...
2070 grains of rice. For six people. To last six weeks.
Less than 60 grains of rice per week.
No water too cook it with. All the water is too polluted.
We don't even have canned beans anymore.
What if you were one of these six people?
Maybe you could save your brother, child, or friend by sacrificing your own life.
Would they eat you??
Maybe, but at least you would no longer feel the pain of your body slowly eating itself.
Would you really be saving your family, your friends?
After all, there is no guarantee of another 2700...