There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
Honestly, it's quite off-putting. He's just standing there... staring. Always. I tried staring back to try and get him to push off. But it backfired horribly. He smiled at me. Not just any smile, either. He made it the worst smile ever. His face was just the wrong set for a smile.
In fact, everything was wrong about him. His head was oddly shaped, like a rock bashed against a wall. His arms were thin and spindly, threatening to snap off in the gentle breeze of my fan. His chest was...
The woman watched Martin run into the snow. She could see him for couple of meters, but the lost him in the snow. Through the binoculars she watched the shed. If he ran away, she would be dead. She knew this was risky, but getting that teleporter was more important than surviving in this camp. She could hear her own heartbeat, when she saw Martin, running up to the shed, opening the door and going inside. She let out a sigh of relief, but became all the more nervous. He can't use it now, he has to take her with...
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...
She could tell I was faking it. She can always tell when I'm faking it. Something about the way my eyelids droop slightly, the way I chew at my bottom lip before I talk.
"It looks lovely."
"It doesn't. You're lying." Somehow, she always knows.
"Okay, it doesn't. It's a hideous dress. But you do. You always look lovely."
"Creep." She smiles, and swats at me with the scarf she's about to wrap around her shoulders instead of a coat.
I love the way she looks when she gets ready. How she frowns at the mirror when she puts on...
Leaving was the easiest decision to make, and the hardest action to take. He fingered the photograph of his wife and daughter, remembering the last time he'd held them in his arms, crying as the rain washed away his tears. He remembered the wailing sirens, the questions, the looks on people's faces - faces filled with a mixture of sadness, suspicion, and contempt.
He thought about the judge, the look on condemnation as he sentenced him, as though the loss of his family wasn't punishment enough. He visualized walking past the liquor store, his steps heavier as he forced himself...
She turns around, but he has vanished again. She weighs the pros and cons of speaking before opening her mouth.
"I can see you," she says.
"I know," he replies. "I know."
Those two words send a chill up her spine. "What do you know?" she asks.
"I know," he repeats. Out of the corner of her eye she catches a blur disappearing behind a tree. That's where he's hiding, then.
"What do you know?" Now, she must simply be careful. It will be easy enough to catch him.
"I know." These last two words are breathed down her neck....
She wasn't the kind of girl who kept love letters, wrapped in pink ribbon, locked in an inlayed wooden box. Not that anyone sent love letters these days.
She would have no wild stories of her youth to tell her neices, no lost loves, no ones who got away.
She was, as she always had been, just her.
She had got so use to being on her own, the proverbial independant woman, that she ended up so afraid, afraid of being any other way.
And so , even though she was still young, she had stopped looking for love letters...
She cradled the faun's head. Tears, vivid green, stained the slight creature's pale skin. Her story wasn't meant to end this way.
Shashera stroked Ferin's cheek. "I'm so sorry, my friend," she whispered, leaning down to press her lips to his brow. The faun shuddered at the chill of her touch.
"You weren't supposed to let him in," he said, voice weak, but thick with accusation. "You were our protector." Another tear dropped from her lashes to splash onto his chest and he jerked at the impact.
"I know." The nymph settled her friend back on the bed. "But it's...
Face down on the cold floor of the cathedral, Brother Fidelis whispered his prayers. Though his lips brushed the dust and filth of the stones, his eyes were angled forward, watching the door. Though he lay in front of the altar, he faced away from it.
The flat light of dawn was pushing through the open spaces where the stained glass had been, the thin, watery edge of light creeping slowly across the burned and broken pews. There were no noises yet. The day was not far enough advanced to bring them home. When the clear light rose above the...
The captain for the second time this week, finds himself in his dress uniform. He is standing beside the father and widow who have no knowledge that the man offering his condolence, is the one who took the mentally unstable lieutenant's life. They had been informed that he had suffered a seizure in the night and passed away. Father and widow accepted this, because to them at least his suffering was over.
As the captain watched them give thanks and honor to the late Lieutenant Johnathan MacKenzie MacMillan for his service, he wishes he could tell them of his deceit,...