the grand opening was boring yet it was also very romantic me and my husband had went to the opening because he knew how much i loved to study. now i know not to try to put in so much on a busy day . i had a headache from learning about the scinentific stuff in our nearby steam so i would say it was not the best day ever but not the worst . i had to go lie down because i had a compleat meltdown in the mall i just could not take it . the feeling of...
I counted the Braille dots on the "DOWN" button for the 43rd time.
Then I counted them for the 44th time.
And the 45th time...
No longer satisfied with simply counting the dots themselves (there are always 18), I was now counting my counts, which, at least, were never the same, though always increasing.
Have you ever been stuck in an elevator? Neither have I. I am inexperienced with this. I don't know what I'm supposed to do while stuck in an elevator. I don't know what other people do when stuck in an elevator. I don't know what Jesus...
They where here again, this phonebox that they grew up at. There youth had been spend trying to understand the system inside the box. Exploreing what a telephone is, how it work and how it charges you. Now they where back, Johan the older sibbling had decided he wanted to have this phone on exhibit in his new apartment.
So they went to work, together. He and his brother that shared that interest for technological system that was there childhood. Together they pried it off the wall at the same time talking about all the memorys of exploreing the telephone...
He was pacing back and forth. His dress pants making a slight swifting noise with every step.
"They should have been here by now," Tom said breathing heavily.
"They will get here when they get here," I replied as I tried to relax on his couch.
We were in his office and we had an important meeting.
It was with a new set of clients who had a nasty reputation. We were suppose to change that for them, however, they were late for the first meeting. A bad sign.
First impressions are everything here. Tom and I rarely discuss anything...
The children were not at school. They had better, bolder, brighter things to be doing. The teachers didn't notice. They never did.
They ran out while at break, amidst the confusion of supposed bruises and teases and stolen lunches. The gates were easy enough to get past. Each girl's hair was neatly done up with a hairpin, after all.
The sky was bluer once they got out, it seemed. So they ran, ran hard, ran free, ran wild. They quickly enough leaped through the confines of urbanity and into spaces never explored before, wild forests filled with strange creatures. Each...
"I am getting so tired of this jerk being thought of as the best reporter in town" Dan muttered to himself, "but I'll show everyone that I believe in the news somehow". Dan looked across from the news room to see everyone praising bob, the jerk, then suddenly the ground started to shake and throw everyone to the ground. "An earthquake" bob thought, "this is finally my chance to unseat that snob". As dan grabs and runs outside,
Dust obscured the dim lighting above. Clutching a paper bag, the girl lurched to the elevator. Old, worn doors opened, and she descended.
Outside the building her suitor waited wearing a tattered tweed jacket and chipped bifocals. In his hand, a pair of freshly cut daffodils.
Absent. Gone gone gone, baby gone. She's gone again. She's away. She's fled, she's left the scene. She's vanished. You want to call the cops, hire a bounty hunter, marshal the town, grab the pitchforks, light the torches, whatever it takes, to drag her back. You would do so much, you know you would.
It's the future you can't get a hold of. You know the past and you want to scratch the eyes out of the present, but you don't want to see what's ahead. Just bring her home. This is all. Anything now, you'll do anything. Come back....
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...
That fucking cat. How is despised that insignificant ball of mutualized space.
How is its calico and limber body silently creeped around corner, caused my jaw to clench and my palms to quiver. I would do anything to take that rodent and dismember it's jointed body.
Don't get me wrong I am not one to be murderous or even harmful for that matter, but my hatred for that that fury thing lingers in every moment of its presence.
Why couldn't she just leave it to suffer that gloomy saturday? The pound was stale and seeped with death, just where that...