Hats. Of every shape and size. I love them all. You may call me crazy, or you may not. I love them all, of every color and make. I make some, I find others. I keep them all by my side, and drink my tea as I study them. Who am I you ask? Some strange Hatter? Well to be more precise i'm a MAD Hatter. Yes that's correct. I am a bit mad, but who isn't? Hats just so happen to catch my fancy, and I love to make them. I also collect them. I can find you a...
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...
You gave me the best summer of my life. The summer before I went to college, I wished that everything we had shared would never change.
We kissed on the bench in my backyard, in your car in the rain, at the movies...Then once I got to college, it was your apartment.
Back to summer; I can't think of better moments I could have shared with anyone else.
After my sophomore year, I didn't see you again. And I'll always think of the night you proposed, watching MTV, high, at 4am.
I will remember the way you used to look...
When I reached end of the running trail in the woods, I ran into a gigantic zombie. Nearly wet my pants. Damn thing had to be seven feet tall.
I remembered that zombies bit skulls open and ate hot steaming brains. Made me wish I was wearing a football helmet. I started to run like hell in the other direcition.
"Wait," he hollered. "I'm thirsty. Got any ginger ale?"
"No. I only got a can of Pepsi."
"Good enough," he said. "Let me have it and I won't catch you and eat your brains."
I reached into my backpack and...
'Just a little more." She said wearily, but the fierce look of determination on her face kept Malcom from insisting further. Her hands gripped the support rail so tightly that her knuckles drained of all colour.
'Alright, alright, if you really think you can do it.' He said softly, taking a step away from the wheelchair at the ready to wheel her away back to her room. He had to admit it, he admired her persistence, even if it was against his better judgment.
Her first step on her healing leg was shaky and the beads of sweat on her...
That night everything changed. She would never think of the stars in the same way. Or the grass, or the flowers. In five minutes her whole perception of the world changed. She could acknowledge that the thoughts running through her head at that moment were not what she would have imagned she would be thinking in a scenario such as this. Her thoughts were clear and concise. Practical almost. She blinked. It hurt. A seering pain shot from her left eye through (what it felt like anyway) her brain. She tried turn her head to the left where she knew...
While Bach and Bethoven echoed in my ears, I slowly, stared at the monarch butterflies soaring in the fresh, thin air that surrounded me. I bit my lip, and then grabbed at them, but an unsuccessful attempt. I laughed and laughed. I doubled over, when I saw a man in a kyak capsize, and fall deep into the depths of the water. It felt calm and natural, sitting here, looking at the trees, the water and the sunset. A white butterfly, out lined with black-blue colors, flew in, beautifully flapping it's wings, and landed on my shoulder. I glanced at...
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...
A wolf was hunting her, for she was young and precious and delicious. She didn't remember her name, she had been running for so long; so, when she got up and went into the doorway, she was surprised at first. There was a picture of her on the wall. There was a picture of her with an old woman.
"What..." she mumbled, a breath barely traveling from her lips.
"Oh, auspicious granddaughter, you have finally arrived! Come in, come in, and give your dearest granny a kiss."
The girl looked towards the bed and there was a hairy, beastly old...
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...