Dark spires pierce the night, reaching for full moons and distant stars. It's more than most could contend with. We sleep, conjuring pistol dreams while the tall buildings and statues do the work of our desires of actively attaining the beauty that this world has to offer. Every day we awake to the soft sunlight shining through our windows believing that today is the day that we will quit our jobs and move to distant cities and start anew. But these thoughts dim as we put on our clothes for work and eat more morning breakfast and continue on with...
The President, nefarious super-villain, sneered at Immobilus, Triumph City's most paralyzed superhero, and swung the axe over his head, ready to bury the hatchet, so to speak, deep into the chest cavity of Dred-X, Jamaican superhero and reggae star. Immobilus focused, building up a ball of psychic energy he hoped would be big enough to knock The President.
Just as the head of the axe began to fall, Immobilus fired, the ball of energy glancing off of The President's arm, forcing the axe-head to arc downward and plant itself deep in The President's leg. He let out a blood-curdling scream,...
Water. That's what I always think of when I think of her. Cannon Creek, Lake Erie, the Atlantic, the Pacific, nothing too specific.
Water can be anything you need, want, fear, love, hate. It can be clear, it can be murky. It can be warm, cold, swallow, deep. All these things are what water naturally is.
In my memory, our love is an ocean. Oh, yes. We were in love. I'm not so hopelessly romantic that I would ever be involved in unreciprocated love. No, no. We were in love, and it was the ocean.
She swam in the clear...
Jesus, this guy. I only wanted a ride to the temp agency, and he was all, "sure, I got a sweet set of wheels in the parking lot." So after I finish up my application for the Donut Hut -- fucking powdered sugar in my hair, I'm not taking this hat off all day now -- we go out to the lot, and it's like, it's his GRANDPA's car right there, a Packard or some shit. The seats are made of red leather and they squeak like I've farted when I get in, and there's cigarette burns on the edge...
"I think we need to take the Easter eggs back," Gerald said.
Louise looked up from placing an Easter bunny on a table. "Why's that?"
"Because one just hatched."
Louise frowned, crossing the room to where Gerald was coddling a small bird in his hands. She was hoping for some kind of explanation, which proved to be difficult to do when he looked more confused than she did.
"What do you mean," Louise said, rubbing the back of her head, "when you say that it hatched?"
"Well, I was getting some of the eggs out for the hunt, right? And...
"Son" I said squinting, I think we are here. "it's Colorado, wake up." I dug out the petrified french fry for Charlie, who was ripping up the upholstery in my v.w.
"Mom, why did we drop Frances on the highway, again?" Eric asked sleepily. He was plump and pink from sleep. I felt for him. There were many books under his rump, but looking in the rear view mirror, he seemed cozy with the dog. The sky was a deep navy, the long prairie grass synchronized so beautifully with the wind. And the black cows lying, trusting all this open...
She'd have preferred the electric chair. Being in the San Francisco State Women's Penitentiary was, well, prison. The orange jumpsuits were tacky. And the food was simply disgusting. She could not believe that she had been jailed for Aren's crime. She'd witnessed, but Aren's lawyer daddy had pulled some strings and landed her in this disgusting hole. Aren should be wearing that jumpsuit. The murder had been gruesome. How could the judge think that a preppy, pretty girl like her would get her hands dirty with such a thing? As soon as her sentence was over (fortunately, the judge had...
I don't know what to put here. I was told that this was fun, but I am not sure yet. My friend has written many of these 6 minute stories, some of them are fairly weird. I have not written any stories in quite some time, and really I don't know if you count the sailor moon fanfiction as "stories" and not "strange kid slightly obsessed with cartoon show that DIC wouldn't finish translationg because other kids might find out what gay people are." Where was I? Oh yes. The weird 6 minute story thing. I don't know... maybe I...
Sen evindeyken bazı şeyler oldu, bilmezsin. nerden bileceksin. Evindeydin. sıcacık yuvan. sana ait her şeyiyle. belki beyaz duvarları var. belki bahçesi. çıkınca sarınırsın battaniyene. Öyle güzel öyle sıcak bir ev. ben yapamadım canım benim evimi bulamadım ben. bilir misin evsizlik ne demek. çiçeklerini koyacak bir camın önü bile yoktur. açar çiçeklerin evet ama yollarda kaybolur gider sonra. zamanla solar. dayanamaz göçebbeliğe. göçebelik zordur yavrucuğum. sen bilir misin. belki sen de uzun göçlerden sonra geldin ve o evi buldun. o evle hemhal oldun. evim kendimmiş diyor ebrar. gerçekten öyle mi? gerçekten evimiz kendimiz mi. içimiz en büyük şansımız diyor biri de....