she watched for him. the curtains engulfed her as she pressed her nose to the glass, eyes intent on the driveway. As his car pulled up, she smiled. before he could say anything, she plowed into him and smothered him with kisses. he laughed as she settled into the familiar position against his chest. she missed him too much to put into words. well, excluding the words "she watched for him."
The first thing he felt upon regaining consciousness was wet and prickly. He couldn't see just yet, and wouldn't be able to turn his head even if his eyes were working properly. In fact all he could move were the fingers of his left hand. So he was determined to make the best of that situation until he could do more.
If he could do more. A thought he quickly would not allow himself to hold on to.
He gripped the objects between his fingers. No, it was a substance. He flattened his hand and ran the back of it...
Now, Ma'am, your academy sounds like a wonderful place for Peter, but there is something you should know about my son before you take him on. Well, you see, he's not like other boys. Yes, I know he looks normal enough but he... Peter is a very - how do I say this - high maintenance teen. He can - well, look out the window. See how he's not talking to the others? Oh, he's talking her out of his pocket. That's Tinkerbell, Ma'am. Shh - just watch. There's the pixie dust and... he's flying. (Oh, thank the good Lord...
Lost but he couldn't stop hearing those footsteps, in his mind. They kept going on and on. Jack could hear his footsteps echoing.
Jack sat there engulfed in smoke – hoping the ash-filled clouds would somehow shield him from the pain.
Her body flew through the air, so unnaturally, like a bird caught in a tornado. The blood cascading down her forehead like a waterfall of emotion.
Her delicate face was transformed into a mask – a crimson mask of blood and agony. The smell of burnt rubber and panic in the air. It was electric. Why did she have...
"What the hell kind of superhero costume is that?!" My dad was yelling so loud I could hear him from my room. When the blue cow suit had appeared, I'd been so excited. My brother Eddie hadn't gotten his disguise until he was twelve. Mom's quiet reply made me feel a little less anxious but it didn't seem to have much effect on Dad.
"Kendall, I'm sure it's something he'll grow into. Eight is awfully young for his powers so there's plenty of time-"
"Grow into? Who's going to take a blue cow with fangs seriously? I can see the...
I used to follow my grandfather up the field, gathering potatoes. He would pull them up and leave them like gold nuggets, glowing on the topsoil. I came behind with a trug that was big enough for my baby brother to sleep in. I struggled when the trug was nearly full, and I'd have to set it down every few yards and watch my grandfather as he worked mechanically ahead of me.
I daydreamed that, one day, there would be a real gold nugget lying on the row. I would take iot to the bank and a big man with...
She didn't look at him, just opened the back door at the (deeper than usual) scratching, but it wasn't the cat to which she'd turned her back.
My singing was awful. Didn't matter as the audience were drunk, I could see Lorna sticking her tongue down John's throat as the light swept over the audience. They didn't seem to care that anyone might notice and tell John's wife in a text during the interval. After my horrendous attempt at Billy Holiday I heard a voice in my ear, it was a child asking me to talk to someone called Betty who had red hair, an addiction to pickled eggs and had three cats called Tom, Dick and Harry.
She was sitting in the last row and only...
When I took Peter his final cup of coffee of the day knowing that tomorrow he'll be somewhere special instead of his smelly flat, I had a strong conviction that I had made the right decision, even though it was unlikely anyone else would understand. That's because they didn't have the knowledge I did. Secret. Life changing. Extraordinary.
In the morning we walked downstairs to the waiting car, Peter was chatting merrily unware his life was going to change forever.
Meanwhile I was perplexed why I couldn't open the door to my padded cell. Peter would be scared in the...
My face turning a scary shade of blue, hands stiffening, heart slowly...slowly shutting down. Panic surrounds me, but no words escape my throat. There is nothing I can do now. The first time can be your last, so I've heard, and it's real this time. I want to reach for my throat, even try self-Heimlich, but my hands won't unclench themselves out of the white-knuckled fists they're stuck in. I can start to feel numbness through my feet, creeping up my legs, cramping in my stomach. A whoosh of air escaping my lungs, while my eyes rolled back into my...