Gorgeous, yes. but pretty? No, that was reserved for young girls and poofy dresses. She was Beyond pretty. Uck, just saying it made her cringe. Pretty?
and he thought he had given a compliment.
Leaving was not a new idea.
it was a known fact that it was the Best idea.
but leaving.. was Not the easiest.
it wasn't the packing or the finding-a-new-home
or all of the usual headaches-
it was what was being left behind
this not-so-little conundrum has kept me here for exactly three years to the date.
you see..
it was built here, it can't leave here..
literaly, it cannot fit out the door.
saw it in half and take both pieces? ..no
burn it and save the ashes? but it's full!
stay? i guess so..
DAY 1
I saw it passing by. It was only a glimpse, a brief glimpse, one of many taxis that I see every single day. But one thing stood out about it. I can't exactly say what, but I remembered it enough, it had left enough imprint in my mind for me to recognize it the next day. Then, I was on my way to the Tube when it zoomed by me. There was no one in it.
No one at all. The driver's seat was empty. I blinked once, hard, but by the time I opened my eyes, it...
Dear Santa,
My name is David Jordan. I have ben a very good boy this yeer. I would relly like a new He-Man toy and maybe a Night Rider too. My litle brother wants some Linkin Logs. And Santa, could you bring mama a new car. She recked hers last week.
Ill hav cookies and milk for you when you get here.
Thanks Santa,
David
They were outnumbered and they knew it. J'nox lifted his six-shooter as he and his comrades prepared to defend the herd of hippogriffs with their very lives. The elf's upswept ears strained to hear every sound, every muttered word from the enemy as he shifted in his saddle, the pegasus beneath him pawing at the air. It was a beautiful day, he thought grimly. A good day to die, and take as many of the savage dwarves with him as he could.
Suddenly, those short people attacked, their twisted beards flapping in the wind as they hooted, hollered, and raised...
I look at the glistening gold clock hung onto the station wall. Time is ticking. So slowly I feel that time has frozen. I glance around me, people struggling to pull their trolley due to their 10 suitcases on them. Families excited to go somewhere different. I wonder where all these people are going. Is it to the grand canyon? Is it to the Middle East? Who knows. I look up and see my travel guide. All I have taken with me. We don't need the 10 suitcases or the travel itineraries. We don't need the unneeded stress of expired...
"I shot my butler, but I did not shoot the chauffeur" Mrs. Kensington said. "I don't know who could have done such a thing. That poor old man."
"The butler or the chauffeur," the detective asked.
Mrs. Kensington coughed with polite outrage.
"The chauffeur, of course," she said. "The butler can rot in a thousand hells as far as I'm concerned."
The detective flipped back a few pages in his notebook.
"You say the butler had been stealing from you," he asked, scratching his nose. "Did you have any proof?"
"Proof is in the pudding, as the maid would say."...
, Nevada. The most nondescript town imaginable. Even the dust had dust. The air was dry, and it was hardly ever cloudy.
A convenience store with a broken sign in this dull town would prove to be the battleground. Mr. Block arrived first, slowly perusing the landscape, planning ahead, preparing for the confrontation. Satisfied, he entered the store to buy a candy bar.
Mr. Arc came next. He'd been following Block his whole life, in a chase that had ruined countless others, never gaining ground, never getting closer. Until today.
Sparks flew from his hands as he increased the voltage...
It was the fall that surprised me most. I struggled through winter, reeling at the news that I was going to die. That I wasn’t going to see another Christmas after this one, that I had less than a year – maybe six months, although they couldn’t be sure.
And I tried my best, but that last Christmas was a dismal affair. I wanted it to be perfect, and in wanting that I asked for too much. No other Christmas had been perfect – but they had been wonderful. And I went and ruined my last one by organising, instructing,...
I thought she was made of china, the first time I met her. Girls that perfect didn't exist, only dolls. Frozen icons of perfection, unattainable.
She made me feel clumsy - she was slight, small, pale, hiding behind perfect ringlets. On paper we sound the same - the same could be said of me (apart from the ringlets; my hair is straight, limp) but she wore it with pride, I treated my height as a disability, my weight as an inconvienience, my skintone a health hazard. I looked sickly, she looked ethereal.
Somehow it wasn't a surprise when she spoke...