Wide, flat expanses lend themselves to romance. The romance of the open air and the sky as they meet the horizon and walk away. In this dusty corner of the world the muezzin stirs. He who calls the believers to prayer.
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.
Allahu Akbar into the rising sun. Allahu Akbar to the departing night. Bleary eyed with sandalled feet, the faithful congregate through the thick dust. Voices hushed as though in respect as the light beckons.
Awake for morning in the bowl of night,
Has flung the stone that puts the stars to flight,
And Lo, the...
Randy: Well Bob, I ain't seen any antelope, nor any deer. An' it sure don't look like there's any home on this here range!
Bob: [spits] Aww sheet Randy! Ah knew we shouldn't ev followed those stinky Injuns!
Randy: You got any Marlboro's there bwoy? Ah think ah need a smoke!
[Bob hands Randy a cigarrette]
Bob: [suddenly worried] Are we walking on a layer of kerosine?
[Randy lights his Zippo]
[-BOOM!!!- Stage Lights Full Glare]
-Stage Lights Off
No, the blood stains in the carpet don't come out. Yes, I tried. Yes, I did my best. No, there's no lingering smell.
Press conference for killer. Talk shows, radio interviews, Good Morning America 3-minute-segments before commercial break. They don't throw hard question at you. They give you chance to explain yourself. They don't press further.
Smiles, genial smiles and well-trained laughs at cued moments. We get along in front of audience. He laugh at joke about face victim made before death. Well there you have it, he say to camera. Inside the mind of a true killer, he say....
We speared our forks on the tablecloth stained with soy and spice and duck sauce as the waiters took the picked-over "Chinese" dinners from our sight. The restaurant catered to American tour groups whose beef and corn tastes fall too unrefined for authentic foreign dishes and who long to travel thousands of miles just to conjure a memory from the hole in the wall Taiwan Garden down the end of Mulberry Street, across from the courthouse.
As our servants sprinkled the remains of our feast in the dumpster like fish food to the swarm of street children eager for their...
I still washed his shirt. There was only his plaid shirt, because it was what he'd worn. But I still washed it. My son disappeared a few years ago. They found his body by the lake. He was wearing that old plaid shirt. The rest of his clothes I gave to my nephew, about his size. But that plaid short...I'd never give that to anyone. It was his, it was all I had left. The plaid shirt. His room was in perfect condition, but it didn't seem right. But his shirt in my soft-from-washing-so-many-dishes hands. It felt like everything was...
The realization crept over me. My drugs are gone and my friends are few. How very insignificant we all are. Myself especially, I suppose.
He said I didn't deserve pleasure, in so many words. I refuse to agree with that. Everyone deserves pleasure, most especially those who are in such pain.
So now I am left to wonder where I will find relief. The day draws ever closer to my imminent withdrawal, and this one will be severe, of this much I am sure. This little stint has been, by far, the most consistent usage coupled with the most pure...
Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up.
"Oh, looks like we have ourselves a volunteer?" the D.J at the booth smiled at her.
She blushed when the spotlight hit her. Figures the first time she wanted to be daring, the whole world would see her.
Looking back at her friends as though she wasn't sure of herself anymore, they all encouraged her, their hands moving towards the stage. "Go on!" her friend, Darnell grinned wildly to her. The rest of their group nodded their approval.
Well, if Darnell...
I was on too many fucking drug to put up with this bullshit hipster girl with a balloon full of who the fuck even knows. Fuck that. I knew that I was signing up for a quirky-ass time but I didn't realize that that meant chasing someone through alleys full of rapists and foreigners and then what. My prize would probably be equally quirky, like ten gallons of Sunny D or an Altoid tin full of minty condoms. At this point I didn't care about the prize. I just wanted the game to end.
I'd been dragged into this by...
I wish I knew how to live, live a life that were free of rules.
But to enter the world and be certified is that of a thousand fools.
Fools that came before you, fools that will come after you,
throwing their ideals on the world, categorising lives, categorising deaths.
Simply to feel the wind in my face brings me back to reality.
The cool, uncontrollable breeze flowing like a river freely through the air.
No one to tell it where to go, no one to tell it what to do.
That is pure living. That is freedom.
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. A nice day, bright, the sun moving between tall building willfully. The young girl stared at the sidewalk, waiting for another band of light to finish marching across. Her hands played with the material of her gown, absent-mindedly. She was hungry, but ignored it. Now was not the time.
At last, shade, and the girl stood up, and gently emerged from the doorway. This shadow was fat, and growing fatter, as the sun made its inexorable way. She took a step, and then another. At night,...