Every day, the old man walked his old dog in the park. A chain fence separated the park from the road. Also, every day, a squirrel would come down out of a nearby tree, and run along the top of the fence. He came for the dog. Chattering, squeaking, he ran back and forth, incensing the dog. This drove the old mutt absolutely batshit. They had a conversation:
chatter chatter chatter
ROO ROO ROO
chatter chatter
ROO ROO
every day it was like this. The squirrel was doing it to torture the dog, you see. As the years went on,...
OHMYGOSH A BABY CHICK!
AHH!! IT'S A PICTURE OF PEOPLE SWIMMING ON AN IPHONE!
WHAT DID PEOPLE DO BEFORE THE INTERNET, CARLY!!
Nothing but a typical Monday night of avoiding sleep and showering, trying to be productive but failing miserably. I'm so hungry, but it's way too late to even think about eating. With ballet in the morning, it's probably best to just shower and get it over with and get in bed or I'll regret it for the next week.
HEY MICAH. WE SHOULD BORROW CJ's CAR AND GO TO TARGET ON WEDNESDAY.
OKAY, IF THIS GUY'S TELLING THE...
Just look down. He will go away. He has to go away.
"Sally?"
Just keep looking down. He will go away. He has to go away. He always goes away.
He says hello. I say hello. And then we...uh...hello. And then he is gone. No kiss goodbye. No you look beautiful in the morning. No do you want to grab breakfast. No I will leave her. No I only love you.
"Sally?"
"Oh, hello," I say, looking up, but still feel down.
"Hello," he smiles in a way that makes me wish I didn't get out of bed this morning,...
Spinning.
As I drift towards the ground, I spin and the world spins around me. The blues and greens and browns flash past, a kaleidoscope around the carousel of my descent.
The spun silk canopy spinning with me and giving an orange glow from above as the Sun's rays find it in the blue, blue sky.
The Earth rushes up, faster now. Still spinning, I begin to tense. Remember the instructions.
Relax.
Let your legs go limp.
Tuck and roll.
The spinning stops with a thud.
David woke up, showered, and dressed. He went outside and carefully watered his garden, plucking any weeds he saw as he went. He wistfully gazed out at the white clouds and the pink butterflies that fluttered about the tall trees. It was a day like any other.
Cynthia, his wife, was sitting on the bench in the yard, listening to something on her headphones. He moved closer to see that her eyes were closed and she was smiling. He stepped forward, about to interrupt her so they could share the moment together, when suddenly a gigantic grizzly bear erupted from...
Taste. The middle, forgotten brother in the family of senses.
They don't have helper dogs or monkeys for people who can't taste anything. No one is working on smaller and smaller devices to amplify or stimulate tastebuds.
You can either taste or not and no one really cares.
The one good thing about not tasting anything is you can win all kinds of money on the playground by eating things. Things that might seem disgusting.
I was the richest kid in elementary school. I'd takle bets and then down worms or bugs or the digusting ham and peanut butter sandwich...
"Hello Father," she said.
"Ah, my child, I apologize for being late. I was walking around this glorious park. Did you get a chance to see the green trees and all the life that is budding from them? It is truly beautiful here."
"Yes, quite."
"I like you new look. It fits you, of course I liked the way presented yourself before. However, the all black is bit much, my child."
"Always the judge. Am I right?"
He laughed to himself.
"How easily I forget your cunning humor."
A full set sit in front of them. And while she wore...
In a doorway outside of a wall,
There sat a young woman named Vall
She wanted help, please
She was missing her keys
For she'd locked them inside, damn it all
Dishes. Toaster. Coffee. Napkins.
Her breakfast routine was always the same. She performs it today as she did on so many days before, and as she would on every day for the rest of her years.
She brushes the tablecloth clean, while she waits for the coffee. She quietly assembles everything: sugar, milk, scones, jam. She does not speak.
She painstakingly sets two places, attentive to every detail. Her cup of coffee would receive two spoonfuls of sugar. The far cup would receive three. Always three.
The toaster signals that breakfast is ready. She pours the coffee, lays out the...
Scott winced as he saw the woman spread the fingers of her left hand on the table. Of the standard complement of five, she had only her pinky and thumb remaining. The others appeared to have been cleanly sliced off.
"Ouch," he said, taking notes on her chart. "What was your occupation?" he asked politely, trying not to let the sight bother him.
"Data entry clerk," she said in a laconic, bitter tone.
"I, ah, yes, I can see how that would be ..." Scott coughed to disguise his confused verbal fumbling. He wrote some more, primarily as an excuse...