Deluxe. I ordered a deluxe meal. Where, you might be wondering? Not McDonalds. Not BK. Not Whataburger. Not Chick-fil-a. No, I was trying a new restauranut down on 57th street, you know, in the bad part of town. Normally, I don't venture out that way to often. However, my favorite comic book store recently located to 55th street, just two streets over from this new place. So, after I bouight the newest copies of Batman, X-Men, and Green Martians From Outer Space, I went over to the new restauranut. It was called "Tom's Eatery". "Hmmm....", I thought to myself, "Thsi...
Once upon a time in a bright, little forrest,
there were three Elves named Jimmie, Bob and Horace.
Jimmie was an arsonist, Bob was a drug lord,
and Horace killed hookers with an old VCR-cord.
They went into prison but just now they broke out,
"Each take a hostage and run to the river!", Bob shouts.
They stole a get-a-way boat to cross the stream,
when Bob decided to work against the team.
He killed two hostages and shot Jimmie in the leg,
So Horace had to put a bullet in Bob's head.
"My leg hurts like a bitch!", Jimmie...
The building appeared one day with only a white-haired gentleman who could have noticed. He didn't however, because he was too busy unwrapping a chocolate bar on the wooden bench he sat at every Wednesday. So only the wind grew unsettled with the sight of the 2-storied Japanese pagoda that shot into place in the middle of Central Park with only a sleek "pop" to give away it's sneak-up appearance.
Almost immediately, a black cat jumped from an overhanding willow tree into the window framed with yellow lacquer slats of wood. The man continued to peel away at the silver...
She'd have preferred the electric chair, at least that one bloody moved. She could get up a good speed on that one, maybe she could get out of it, escape their sympathetic looks. It was bad enough losing the power in your legs without their condescending looks. Idiots.
Apparently it was a "power chair", but, frankly, bollocks to that. Jokingt that she was living out a death sentence was one of her few pleasures left - that terror in their eyes, the "oh god how do we respond to that" was what she was living for right now.
Actually, that...
I saw the thing. It was preserved in the glass case, the only one of its kind. So faithfully had the curators touched it, applied the special fluids, made sure that never again, never again would it be forgotten. It had been once before, after all. After all, memory is a sieve. And this was memory itself. It shouldn't have been forgotten.
I can't remember the thing itself especially now. I suppose that's expected. My memory's not special in anyway, no, not at all. It doesn't matter, anyways, just that it was a record, so that people wouldn't forget, wouldn't...
like a breeze?
this prompt sucks, she said as she typed away. thoughts aflutter even while she cursed whoever suggested it.
wasting time. time. like a breeze. sucksucksuck
sucking me out of existence, whooshing me past all opportunities. the wind too strong to lift my arm to grab the hand of the One thing that might save me from wasting more.
and yet, i experience. time flying by, whirlwind, and little i. left with the experience. like a breath. the wind.. swirled into the lung. exhaled, expelled, exploded back out.
all connected.
does wind have any way of Not be...
My best friend is a guy called Peter and he's incredible at talking to people. He has a vault of information in his head that he's gotten from all of his past conversations with people. When he meets someone new he merely tells them what he knows so far about their hometown and then lets them build upon it, this he'll take to the next person he meets from there and so on. I was with him the other day and we were talking to a guy from south africa, we live in australia, and the guy was used to...
There was blood on my pillow. A lot of blood. A ton of blood. Where did it come from? It seemed to be dripping from somewhere. I looked up. The celing was dry. I looked around, I felt my own face, hair, ears, nose...all dry. What the h*ll was going on? Then, I heard something. A step. Two steps. Steps moving across the wood floor near the staircase downstairs. Was this the source of the blood? Was it the cause of the blood? Am I next? I was not injured, but I was still terrifyed. Suddenly, something came bounding around...
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...
"Stop. Look around you. What can you see? The nearest human is over ten miles away. You are alone. Quite possibly more alone than you have been your whole life. There's a physical aspect to this feeling you're having, this aloneness. It's relaxing. Take a moment. Feel yourself relax. Feel your heartbeat slow. Feel you mind de-clutter and expand into a space no longer populated by others. Feel those invisible boundaries dissolve."
The voice paused and Karen became conscious of the slow drum beat that she must have been hearing for some time. She could hear the rhythm of her...