Peasants.
We all are peasants.
I am a peasant, endlessly tilling the vast land of my master. I have a perpetual inclination to become a slave for lack of education.
Still, I am not ashamed of what I am. My legacy, which I have inherited from my forefathers, will go on for posterity's sake. My sons and daughters will continue to till land. But I guarantee that the land would be theirs to cultivate, for I am about to storm the walls of my master.
May God have mercy on his soul!
She didn't look at him. She couldn't look at him. What would he think? she wondered as she sipped her wine and kept her eyes averted while he looked at her steadily, scratching his prematurely grey beard. "What's wrong?" he asked in his tenor voice.
"Nothing," she lied, and felt guilty for it.
"Come on," Mark said. He rolled over to Mary, took her hand and squeezed it gently. "We've been friends since we were kids, darlin'. You can tell me anything. Just like I can tell you anything."
"I love you," she blurted. Mark blinked at her as she...
The dapper man picked up a penny and found a little hole. The hole was smaller than the penny, but larger than a dime. The man, dapper and penny-wise, bent down on dapper knees, head bowed, right eye squinting into dime-sized hole.
"Dimes, dimes, dimes! Mole men flipping dimes, muddy mason jars tight with dimes!"
He wigle
Nothing worse than weak coffee to start a Monday morning. I don't know how many times I've had to tell her, it's 2 scoops per cup of water and even then you aren't going to get a jolt when you drink it. I use three and a half scoops per cup of water and that right there is a coffee that will wake you up and send you out the door. No sense in drinking coffee flavored water, now is there.
So I poured out my cup and felt her eyes staring into the back of my head and I...
She was a girl, he was a guy. She was beautiful and he praised the ground that she walked on. He couldn't stop thinking about her. The only way he would be able to fall asleep at night is with thoughts of her laying beside him whispering in his ear "everything will be alright".
She does not exist.
Instead he lays awake, not thinking of anyone. He thinks of death and of not-existing anymore. He cannot sleep because only in sleep does death occur. He doesn't want to die, but he has no reason to live.
Motivation to live has...
I know that if I keep going I will make it, just a few more yards surely. My body - weak, my mind - blank, my friends - gone. I lost them a few days ago in the stormy waters that came from beneath. Evidence from our fishing vacation that we had been anticipating for weeks, in smithereens. Why me, why am I the only one here.
Surely this has to be a sign from above, Gods way of letting me know I'm special and he has other things planned for me. I promise, I will not let him down,...
Sometimes I am shocked at the state of America today. The young people just have not respect - no decency at all. They go around and do whatever they wish - guided, though, not by their wishes but by the pulsing masses. Every time that I see it I am disgusted. I see it and shrink. I don't understand it entirely. But this one thing is like my only weakness. Maybe I am like them. I just following a whim of someone else - or something. I'd like to think that I could have a justification for something that hits...
The stories rarely stop when the party does.
He was not tall, or lean, but he was fashionable. He had the bushiest eyebrows, like tiny mink stoles pasted to his forehead, and a strange (but familiar) teetering gate to his walk as he meandered like a river through the empty park lawns.
"I hope I didn't insult her," the man worried to himself as he kicked an empty potato chip bag across the path. He spotted a bench looking out over the old friend, duck pond.
There our lonely man sat. Contemplating the emptiness of it all. No ducks, even....
Marie loved apples.
That would make her smile.
It was bad enough that Eric had messed up her homework, it was supposed to be a joke, who knew the dog would actually eat it. Puppies do that. She'd kind of laughed it off. She'd taken the shredded remnants of it to school, she'd come back, shadows under her eyes and Eric, waiting on her porch asked if she was in big trouble.
"Nah," she replied, "They laughed. I'm forgiven this time, and so are you."
Big hug.
And she munched a Pink Lady apple, a double celebration. She had one...
He hated the color green, he hated it with all the enamel in his big front teeth. Since he was a tiny woodchuck he was teased mercilessly by his peers because well, he wasn't colorblind like all the rest. He could see the color green...everywhere, everywhere! The anger grew within him against this gift that he called a curse. He just wanted to be like all the other woodchucks living in their happy, ignorant, colorless little worlds. He could never sleep during the day with visions of sugar green fairies dancing in his head. He began taking walks, destroying all...