I lost my grip on the wheel.
It was a dark night, yet the sky was completely clear. It was a tired night, yet there had been man cups of coffee. It was a restless night, though everyone was laying down. It was a night full of oddities.
I sat forward in the seat, trying hard to hold onto the wheel as the car began to skid around on the road. The longer I tried, the harder it became. I slowly began to lose my grasp, and I realized how all the events that had happened that night led to...
Once, in Beijing, you were there. You were here. Doorway. Phone. Stammer.
She clutched round her that red gown, shawl over shoulders, and stood. Stands?
I am across the street, with you. Table. Café. On the table: phone, keys, change. Two glasses.
One and a half minutes ago, I hit "record" on the phone and slid the phone toward you. Between you and me.
You cleared your throat, and said:
Once, in Beijing, you were there. A young girl, a gown too big. You saw a couple across the street. One older, thin, thin-lipped, a look of resignation. One younger,...
She didn't look at him. She couldn't. He was standing there, and she didn't recognize him. Alex hurt Keri. Beyond hurt. Four years of sleeping together during summer and winter breaks from his Catholic college in Ohio HAD to mean something. Didn't they?
Not to him. Not anymore. He wasn't in it for the same reasons. Maybe he knew Keri loved Zak, too. Maybe Alex knew that deep inside Keri really loved them both (she hoped neither of them knew about each other, at least). Maybe he hoped that Zak would love her back so she wouldn't be so hurt...
They pulled up to the old bar, the Far Bar. They had been there numerous times before, but this was to be their last before projecting out of their own bodies and into some others.
"Come on, dad, of course she remembers you. Will you please just mellow out and come inside with me?"
"No way, buddy boy. You go right on in. Fuck her for all I care. Just let me lie in this car. This is where I'll die. Right here...in the volvo."
The son jumped out of the car and fisted his hand in a knot, shaking...
There once was a man in a sphere
Whose outward appearance was queer
He was hard to mistake
For the sphere was opaque
Because he had filled it with beer
I open my eyes and see a light.
The sky is bright and everything seems dull.
Thats how he felt.
He was diagnosed with a bird desease that kills you at the age of 3 years old.
that was the last time I ever spoke Timmy.
Chopin and nature. Like a French-pressed cup of coffee and Swiss chocolate.
But was it nature that inspired this feast for the eyes? How did Chopin filter out the noise to create his masterpiece? Must I do the same?
I switch to Vivaldi, an upbeat piece known for it's nature qualities. The Four Seasons. Ahh...that's perfect. I sink into the hammock, the soft southern breeze cooling my hair as I rock gently back and forth. Lulled to sleep by a dead guy...
I wake up. This is all wrong. This can't be right. I'm missing something...
The song is over,...
Upon my soft upholstered chair
I sat and spoke into the air
For they were listening, you see
The ones who come and sit with me
I cannot see them, though I try
Their form is but a wistful sigh
More solemn than a flow'ring tree
The ones who come and sit with me
I have no proof that they exist
But still my thoughts of them persist
A secret kept? A fantasy?
The ones who come and sit with me
My audience in silence waits
As softly I pass though their gates
She was the most delicate girl in town, but this minor label did not stop her from testing for her black belt.
"I can do this" she murmed to herself as she faced three groups of boards to smash. Ignoring the painin her bellying from receiving a front kick, she readied her five foot two, ninety eight pound frame. She exploded forward with a vicious elbow snapping the first board like a twig ready for a fire. Leaping into a flying side kick ,she ripped two boards. Grabbing a fourth board she tossed it and punched it in half.
"I...
He remembered back to a time long ago, when the sun was shining and the birds were singing and the grass was green and life was a magical thing.
It was pleasent here, in his memories...but they never lasted long...
Reality would burst into his dreams like the screams of a tortured man. The prisoner was being questioned again...captured alone and with no possetions, there was nothing to tie him to the situation...but our officers were convinced otherwise.
We all knew something for sure, you can take a man's freedom but you can never take his education...and this man was...