Contemptlation of the one. The flame at the center of life. Beginning and end. No beginning, no end.
It's my birfday.
The children huddled around the flame, discussing what was to be done. One suggested that the only possible route was violence, the violence of the oppressed masses against their oppressor. Another suggested that they might take more subtle means of gaining control of the classroom, gain partisans. The teacher came in, and they blew out the candle, acting as though nothing had happened.
Every child around the cake wished that it was his birthday, that he could be the...
She walked angrily down the path. She heard a twig snap in the woods to her right. Turning her head, but still moving at a ferocious pace, she decided to disregard it. Perhaps that was the wrong decision but there was no other choice in her mind. Who, after all, has the authority to say what a wrong decision, if there is such a thing, is?
It was a cool night, the only light was glaring from the lampposts along the path. She pulled out a cigarette from the box in her pocket. Pulling her hair back and tying it...
He embraces me and I smile.
The cheat!
Just to make this good, I even rest my head on his chest. Deep breaths to make myself seem calm, even when anger and hurt course through my body.
"How was your weekend, Honey?" The question in casual as I run my fingers through his hair. He kisses me and says, "It was alright. How about your's?" I kiss him back and try not to think about what I'm about to do.
"It was fine. Oh, I have something to show you." I reach into my back pocket and show him the...
Immoveable objects.
She'd presumed that they were just an illustrive device - the nemesis of the unstoppable force. It hadn't occurred to her that, actually, they did exist.
Why they existed in a forest was another matter entirely. It wasn't exactly clear (well, the object was, that was why she couldn't see it) why an immoveable object should want to be in a forest. Was there something about forests that made it such a rich environment, suited to objects that resisted force?
Walking around it didn't seem to be an option - immoveable and apparently large. Impossibly large. It was...
In the beginning, he tasted like rainwater: salty. Dried sweat around the rim of his mouth, a taste that clung to his mustache bristles like saltwater taffy.
In the beginning, he was rainwater, and I was a pool. Splashes hit the bottom. He said, you are a the ruin of mankind, rising to the tops of the trees. He said, you make me greedy to reach your destination like a home.
In the end, he tasted like a mountain top. Stretching high above the clouds to breathe a privileged cold. And I was a seed that could not grown on...
It came at me. At a speed of lightning. I couldn't think. Speak, or even hear correctly.
The crowbar was flung directly at the side of my head. It nearly missed my face and I could hear the buzzing of crowbar go through the air. Joe ran for me and the crowbar as I sprinted for a safe place.
Joe and his gang were following behind me. There;s now
The view was stunning. Marie drew deep, ragged breaths and looked out over the valley below. The climb had been ardous but definitely worth it. The music was coming to a cressiendo and she instincively lifted the headphones a little as the sound got too loud for her. She sighed and smiled. Life was ok. The adrenalin from the climb upp the hill had settled her mind and she was ok. Even though there was only an empty apartment waiting for her back in town she was going to be ok. Life went on, the world still held beauty even...
The Potentate surveryed his creamsicle tower coolly.
It hadn't been his idea to build it, it was the idea of his latest duchess. It had been a stupid idea when she had begged for it, but, after she had begun to withhold her affections, he had relented.
It wasn't, you understand, that her pouting had worked on him mind, more that he had been advised by his cabinet that it would not do anything for his public image for him to behead another duchess.
Not that he fancied beheading this one, oh no, burning at the stake felt much more...
2070
From Factopediumz- the factual encyclopedia.
2070 was a calendar year beginning on Wednesday.
Events:
January 20: President Donald Trump VIII abdicates the office after insurrections by members of the rival Hilton party.
February 17: Rogue gorillas overtake the Smithsonian museum. Order is restored by armed robots after spraying plasma indiscriminately into the crowd.
February 18: Rogue robots overtake the Smithsonian museum. Order is restored by 30,000 members of the American Civil Defense Order after spraying plasma indiscriminately into the crowd.
March 3: World's first computer made entirely of living matter created from the DNA of rhesus monkeys and contains...
She would never use a sippy cup for wine. She just wouldn't. And not because the other mothers would smell the fermentation on her breath. Not because her eyes would gloss over as the nannies began to talk about the hockey-playing "manny" who worked with the two boys at the Sullivans. Not because she would have to hold tightly to the padded grip of the jogging stroller. It wasn't because her Rosacea gave her cheek bones a cherry hue. It had nothing to do with her morning run to the playground, the mile and half she squeezed in everyday.
She...