"I could never be a poet because I just can't seem to master the semicolon," I said.
"Not that hard to figure out, really," she replied. "Google it."
It wasn't that big of a deal to me. To be honest, I didn't even like poetry. Still, I Googled it anyway, and found out more than I ever wanted to know about the semicolon.
Later that night, I was hit by a semi; I had to have a section of my colon removed.
Uncanny, that was...
The icy cold seeped in through the cracks of the old window. Time and time again Thou had thought of sealing the gaps. But as always had settled on doing nothing.
His instincts told him nothing was best. So when he phone interrupted his depressive thoughts, he thought of letting it ring out. After it had rang three separate times, he hauled his heavy frame up from the bench and clasped the receiver to his ear.
"Yes?"
"Hi, uh is this the Museum of Museum's?"
"No it is not."
"Oh...sorry."
"Me too."
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,...
Giving in wasn't an option. Michael had broken my heart i don't know how many times. Each time, hurting more then the last.
Here he was, running back to me again after his other fling had fallen through. I couldn't give in this time. I didn't want to feel my heart breaking into a million pieces again. "Please, take me Izzy. I'm serious this time it will never happen again, let me prove it to you." "How?" I asked. "Well, let me start with this. Will you marry me?" I was shocked. I couldn't believe I was hearing this. After...
Iridescent, the water moved silently over her head as her toes grazed the soft sand beneath her. In an equilibrium, almost floating but almost standing, she let the water raise her arms. This was limbo.
People always said it was best to keep your feet on the ground, so to speak. When the mind wanders, ideas get lost. Was that the way it really worked, the woman wondered, exhaling and releasing small bubbles of her life-breath into the water. The bubbles traveled upward to the surface, releasing her breath for her over her head. It was true, water made you...
We made our getaway through the window, I begged you to stay here, to feel the warmth of the house, to watch movies in the dimlit room, but you insisted that I had to "live a little". The clock struck midnight, I heard the chimes & felt the goosebumps as I climbed onto the roof. "This is absurd.. maybe we should go back.. it's freezing out!" But your smile told me differently. You spread a blanket out for us to share, and we looked up at the moon, glowing and providing light for us, along with the streetlamps. I was...
A small flower
Just a seed
planted in the dark
you were fed, to grow, to blossom.
In the dark you grew,
Spreading your leaves out so far,
Reaching for the light,
Almost touching it,
You found it,
But it was too soon
You wilted
Curling back into the dark.
Your thorns, so sharp,
Gripping with all their strength,
Holding tightly,
Waiting for life.
Back into the dark you went,
into the ground,
Forever in the earth,
Never to grow.
She'd have preferred the electric chair as a pendant to the cross which she now wore around her neck. Who was it who said if Jesus was killed nowadays little Catholic girls would all be wearing electric chairs instead of crosses? But she had to wear it; Grandma was coming to Sunday dinner and the family was big on making a half-assed show of religious values. Not like anyone even went to church anymore unless Grandma was around. Nellie flipped her hair in the mirror and made a face, then went downstairs to where the rest of the family was...
Turning twice to see the darkness and the light, Keeley lost track of the zombie that had been running along behind her at surprising speed. Somehow he slipped in to the shadows as her light-blinded eyes took too long to adjust. No matter. Keep moving. She had to keep moving. She'd learned that early on. They were too slow to give chase. Except this one. Something about they way he moved led her to think that he was different. Faster, yes. But also more precise.
The bridge ahead of her looked empty. Still, she approached it warily, knowing that appearances...
Wine. The one I was forced to drink tasted sour. I could imagine what it was doing to my insides. The bottle forced between my teeth was going to shatter any moment, I knew it.
Waking up in hospital days later, I wasn't surprised to see lacerations on my face from the glass. The doctors tried to stop me from taking a look and wanted the bandages to stay on, but I always preferred to face reality rather than avoid it.
A psychologist was brought in, and I went through the motions. I didn't need anyone to soften the blow...