"Good night," the bar manager said, as he tapped a stack of bills on their side to even them out. The waitress dumped another pile of crumpled bills, coins and receipts on his desk.
"Good as any other," she said. The manager paused in his count and looked up from beneath a heavy forehead.
"Something wrong sweetie," he asked.
"No," she said and left the office, heading back to the front. The manager watched her walk away, thinking about what her ass looked like twenty years ago, and smiling to himself. He finished counting the money she'd dumped and dropped...
I had always wanted to win. Something, I dunno; life, a contest, sports day. I craved to see my luminous ego reflected in stainless steel, with others around me cheering me on.
Not today though.
Today, I looked into the trophy, but didn't see my reflection, didn't see the holy glow of my inner glory.
I thought it weird no-one was acknowledging me, but I guess now it makes sense- I lost.
I lost the minute I thought I could achieve anything, the minute I decided to try for once. The moment I begged and would've sold my soul for...
Golden skin glowed in the afternoon sun, revealing a fine tracery of pale blue at the inside of the wrist. Lips, lush lips, parted to accept the ripe perfection of the strawberry I offered. A low sound of appreciation trickled out. I watched Circ eat with a simple joy and relish of the experience that I had never witnessed before.
Had humanity strayed so far away from its own innate abilities?
The robot blinked and met my eyes, smiling. I watched the fine structure of her irises flex.
"Like that?" She nodded at my question and I offered the next...
Shape. Contour. Line. Plane.
My mind is swimming with terms; it's hard to know where to begin. Think. THINK!
Placing my hands strategically against my forehead, massaging in circular motions, attempting to eradicate the oncoming hangover, I catch a whiff of last night's Sauza and the whole experience comes flooding into self-consciousness. Exactly what I've been avoiding, but it's upon me now, and the midterm examination worth forty percent of my overall grade just doesn't seem quite so vital. By contrast, the almost irresistible urge to vomit has quite suddenly taken me, and now I am reaching for my bookbag...
Never before had he entered this room. The dream of the golden sea was clearer in his mind than ever before. There was nothing in here beside a small woorden bench under the high window. When a girl suddenly spoke behind him, Entas froze to the spot. She said his name. Then she started to sing. And he knew: this is her. It must be her. She knew the lines and the melody nobody else in the world could possibly know.
Entas, she said, I'm here.
He turned around.
The light behind her was so bright that he only saw...
"Just drink the tea, Maggie." Custom said. He had set up a beautiful table with scones and tea and all the fripperies that go with it.
"I don't think so." Maggie said. She appreciated the gesture of friendship but Custom had been trying to control her for too many years for her to trust him now.
"I didn't poison it." He said, petulantly. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair to sulk.
"I'm sure you didn't but I've come too far now to bow to you." Maggie said as she hiked up her skirt...
It approached. This was it. Now or never. It's funny, through all the months of planning, I never really thought about actually having to pull this thing off. It was all diagrams and plans and discussing strategies. But, here we were. D-day, as it were. Time to do it. No time for backing out now.
I swallowed hard, unable to shift the lump in my throat. Could I really do this? It all seemed so big. The stuff of Hollywood movies. It didn't really work out in real life. What did I think was going to happen? We would drive...
Smitty sat on the bench and wondered what he was going to do about his oh-so-embarrassing problem.
Girls noticed right away. Many wouldn't say anything, of course; merely giggle and look down at the offending area. What could he say? What could he do to reduce his... well, to be delicate. his *dilemma*...
His male buddies were usually not so discrete. They'd make a face and comment, but when the problem failed to be resolved - not for hours, but months, and then YEARS,... well, he'd seen every doctor he could, but they all scratched their heads in puzzlement and...
"Even in a finite universe, a rock doesn't keep being a rock. Things are always disintegrating and becoming other things." Our Tragic Universe, Scarlett Thomas
There was once a rock, a very old rock, a rock which had laid low for a very long time. It couldn't remember how long that long time actually was but somehow knew without needing to remember that that long time was long enough. It was a rock that took great pride in its appearance, habitually watering its neat lawn of grass, combing its thick coat of moss, trimming it at least once a week....
Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty.
She'd never thought of herself as anything close to it. Too tall, too dark, too weird-looking in general, too much stomach fat and too small a face and too much that was just plain wrong.
Too little personality at first and then too weird a personality later. Too much for other people to deal with.
Too timid to speak up, too hinged on other people's expectations of her.
Too affected by what others said, too stupid to bring up her own ideas or her own thoughts.
And how that's changed.
Now...