"Carry the wreath, Henry, your mother is waiting."
Father's terse words spoken from the side of his mouth, muffled by his coat's collar and the stub of a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. He fancied himself a small-town Bogart. He was the only one.
Two days past christmas and we're out before dawn, getting decorations.
"For next year. Don't worry about it," he says, pulling the flask from the inside pocket. "Carry it another few blocks and maybe I'll give you a sip."
He drinks and staggers and coughs. The butt falls from his mouth and I crush...
"Travel light."
"But take everything with you."
A murmur of confusion ran across the gathered crowd.
"That will only slow us down!" The young man who had been such a cool head through all of their troubles spoke firmly, with an authority far greater than his age would normally have allowed.
"We can't allow them to find anything which they could use against us." The town drunk retaliated. Or at least, that was all he had been, until the shadow began to cross the land and the war drums had begun to beat once more, since then, he had been...
It was a pleasure to burn.
Holding the papers over the flame and watching as the flames spread over each one. Swallowing the words and memories as it went. The demons danced in the flames until there was nothing more for them to devour. Until the fire had taken every last word. Every last sentence and turned them into nothing more than a pile of ash on the ground.
Each piece of paper a different memory. A different time, another thing that needed to be burnt away. Each strike of the match burst into a flash of bright light. Each...
In the Kiliswa village, status depended upon how many bricks you could carry at once. If you put down any of your bricks, even for a second, you would immediately be pounced upon by your rivals.
It was a harsh life. It wore at you, carrying gigantic piles of bricks everywhere you went, day and night. Only the strongest survived; the rest perished.
Among the strongest were Ja and Na, twin brothers whose parents had died from carrying too many bricks at once (a twin pregnancy was especially hard, for the mother must carry her additional weight AND her bricks...
I desire no pity, and I deserve no pity. This is my own personal Mark of Cain, and it is one I have brought to myself. There is always a price to such things, to knowledge and desire. His dark hand covers my face, and one day this mark will come to be paid. In the meantime, I am not without benefit. And I am not without resource.
I can seek out answer in library and archive. I may find none, and I would still have no regret when the great darkness at the very edge of human vision comes...
Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty. Standing in front of the mirror in her brand new $800 gown, she surveyed the woman staring back at her. Straight black hair brushed her jaw, defining vivid blue eyes. Long limbs made for a pleasing figure and as she ran her hands over the smooth fabric of the dress, she thought she just might impress him tonight. Or at least, she would be rid of her problem.
She pushed open the door and entered the elegant white room where the party was being held. He didn't pass up the opportunity...
when you click here the prompt will appear and the timer will start
Harry had taught her well. Any failings during the performance would be entirely her fault, but she wasn't worried.
Harry had taught her well.
She felt her hair drift about her head like a mermaids veil, her garments float on the current like a breeze, and the gaze of her lover as she fished for the key.
Harry had taught her well.
She'd concealed the key just as she'd concealed her knowledge of his affair. Not to be outdone, the student became the master of deception in...
Donna started twisting and the world melted away. Her socks moved back and forth on the ceramic floor. her elbows were tucked in tight against her, her hands almost parallel to the floor. The other dancers around faded and disappeared. The walls crumbled and let in the cool night air and bright stars overhead.
Then that fell away as well, and there was just Donna and the music.
Tears welled in her eyes but did not fall. She shook her hips. The tears dried.
The song ended and the world exploded back into existence. Now she could see Harry with...
Words like knives, thrown back and forth across the room, like a death-defying circus act.
Husband and wife tossing sharp insults, from the couch to the kitchen doorway. Neither landing anything deep, glancing wounds, already scraping scarred tissue.
Neither really feels anything for the other anymore. But the dance, the battle, the contest keeps them together. Light reflects of the blades as they flip and fly.
Thud into walls. Plink against the floors. Bounce of their scaly armour of experience, disdain and dull hate. It aches in their bellies. They think it might offer some release, against the mounting pressure....
Kent had hardly taken a full breath when he burst out again into another rant. Another renegade of answers that had no match for questions. He was surely speaking Greek. Kelsey, However was speaking Russian. And there was a glass Wall between them. Kelsey knew no Greek, Kent knew no Russian. They separate to attempt to salvage the relationship that always had been. Neither was sure when the Communication Break down had occurred. Both knew it was absurd. That's When Kelsey Hired a translator, and put an end to the bloodshed.