She has to save them. That's her job. That's all her job's ever been. She has to sit on top of them, explode into feathers and squawks when needed, brood for days when they're stolen, make countless vows that she'll do better next time.
She likes her jokes, Mother Hen does.
Easter Bunny can steal them every time. He pleads, too, every time, of the scarcity of eggs on the planet, of how hard it is for an honest bunny to make a living nowadays, of the lack of belief in himself, the fake plastic hunts for things that were...
She shifted slightly, adjusting her spine against the doorframe. People kept screaming at her to get out of the door way. She was too tired. She had been there too long. The people, who were screaming, had no need of the door. They had much need of her. So they screamed. She noticed that her nails were clean and bloody. She thought that she would have to dirty the nails with a towel in order to stem the flow of blood.
"Couldn't have picked a better night for it... or a better doorway."
This was the message that she had...
The conversation lasted two words: "Good Luck." She said. Tantor took a deep breath as he walked down the silent hallway. The foot steps of his armored boots echoed off the walls.
"This is Green leader, reaching jump pods now." He spoke into the headset in his helmet. "Rodger that Tantor, Greens two, three and four are ready to jump." The cybernatic AI downloaded into his HUD replied.
"What about Black team?" he asked.
"Blackheart's team is also ready to drop." she answered. The jump pod's hatch slowly opened upward. Tantor took a deep breath and sat down into the...
Elaine stopped dead in her tracks. She had just fixed the bulb this morning, it couldn't already be...
The sound of the back screen door swinging stopped her heart. A wave of panic went through her and she just knew she wasn't alone anymore. But maybe they (or he, or she) had just left. Except she didn't hear any footsteps.
Her bedroom door was locked. The handle jiggled, then a voice; "Larry it's friggin' locked!" "Fuck," Joe yelled. "It fuckin' can't be locked!"
Elaine started turning around; her cell phone was in her car in the driveway.
The kitchen light...
Aurora Moondust Boardman was gripped by a mixture of fear and excitement as she read he Great, Great, Great Grandmothers words. Back in the early 21st century a rather twee social network called Twitter was de rigeur. Nowadays they had the Social Implants that allowed thoughts to be transferred to any of their Optimim Subscribers.
She talked a lot about '@Pesky_Kid' whom Aurora presumed was her Gt, Gt Grandfather. He was famous for his daring exploits in th 50's when he pioneered the first Mashed Potato Wars computer game and retired a millionaire at 20. Kate (as her ,Gt,GT Grandma...
Outside her bedroom window the bells of the church called out to the diminished congregation. It seemed sacriligeous somehow that, while the floral skirted spinsters sashayed into the chapel, she should be lying here wrapped in his arms. Jayne wasn't religious at all despite her most formative years spent eagerly attending that little Methodist chapel. At school she had always excelled at Religious Studies., but life and it's course in cynicism had cured her of all that.
She nuzzled deeper into his arms drinking in the smell of sensual sweat, knowing that in a few short hours he would be...
Did you believe, like me, that there were monsters under the bed? I would leap from the middle of the room, my feet thudding on the mattress, determined that no hands would grab at me from that dark , malevolent recess between bedframe and floor.
The woodgrain on the antique wardrobe would melt into the face of a hooded figure. The deep, soulless gaze visible only to my terrified young eyes. Yet the most frightening part of the night was the key in the door and the gruffness of the slurring voice.
No, my monsters didn't live under the bed....
"Stacy, come on! Hurry up!"
I huffed as I ran behind him. "John-" pant, pant, "please, for the love of all-" pant, pant, "-that is holy. Slow down!"
He laughed, and continued to run, as though we were children still. Adults don't run. They tell other kids to stop running. And for good reason, too! It's tiring!
He stopped at the top and looked down at me, watching me walk the rest of the way. As soon as I reached his side, I frowned at his gorgeous hazle green stare.
And he smiled.
"Could kill you, ya know," I huffed....
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....
I lay there, floating. On the outside, at least. On the inside, I walked quietly down a dark hallway towards a bright white light. ,y mother had always told me not to go towards the light. But I was here for a reason. My life had been falling apart for a long time. I couldn't stand it anymore. So I had jumped. As I walked, I felt the water swish around me and I gasped for air. And kept walking. Walking. Walking. The light got nearer and nearer, and I started to reconsider. Was this too final? No. I had...