I come from the green.
You run to the red.
I'm walking, you're runing.
Until the blue point, we met.
We walk together under the blue sky into the twilight.
On our way, I feel like to follow the white cloud. But you said the dark one is more tempting.
I don't like rain, though you come from the rain.
Still we walk. I stopped when it comes rain but you just stand there, under the rain.
The rain is getting bigger. Then we stop from walk for longer time. Until the rain stop.
We walk again, together. Now you're...
Two men entered, wearing respiratory masks. They came over to the register and looked at Martin, who just looked back in disbelieve. "What's with the masks?" The two men walked around the counter. "Hey, look, I don't work here. Nobody is here, I don't know where everyone is. This might sound crazy, but what year is it? Where am I?" The two men grabbed Martin by his arms and started dragging him outside. "Wait! Stop! Talk to me, please!" The two men ignored him. Outside, there was a parked van. The side doors opened, and another masked was waiting inside....
The coat was ragged. No, not ragged - raggedy. Tatterdemalion in some circles. Tatty, to his mother.
Love, to Matilda.
She slept in the pockets, wrapped herself in the arms and nibbled anxiously at the buttons.
Button.
He'd worn this coat for years. Navy blue pea coat from the army surplus store downtown, his first grown-up purchase. He lived alone then. He went to school, paid his book fees and came home to his one-room flat with a lukewarm kettle and a dusty sleeping bag on the floor.
He'd never had a pet. Allergies always did him in.
Then Matilda...
I was at home with my wife when we heard the noise start. At first just quiet thumps. Then louder and louder. I had her hide in her room, the door locked.
I grabbed my axe. By then I could smell something off. Something rancid and foul. I shouted, warning the intruder. This was my home and no robber or murder was going to violate it like this.
I tore through the house, screaming for him. No sign of him. And the noise had stopped. The kitchen was empty. The hall was empty. I ran back to our bedroom. The...
On the journey back from the Reichenbach Falls, Sherlock Holmes began writing his memoirs. The book was sent to a trusted friend and kept hidden until 2013 when it was accidentally found in an attic.
John Watson was clearing out his uncle's house, lugging down old boxes of musty clothes, books and Christmas decorations down the rickety ladder and throwing everything into the skip on the driveway.
The book fell out on top of his paint stained trainers. Something about the handwriting caught his attention. He's just read a book on graphology and thought it would be interesting to see...
"The proles are revolting" the minister shouted. "They stink on ice" chimed another.
The prince stood montioned for silence and spoke. "My Grandpere was a prole which makes me 1/4 prole and I'll have no such talk in here." "Now if theres no objections let's get the hell out of here!" "The train for Geneva is leaving soon, Proles be damned!"
Gigantic.
Enormous.
Immense.
Even bigger than Daddy.
Evie looked up at the ship as they waited for the cars to start boarding.
"What happens if it sinks, Daddy?"
"It won't sink, pet."
"But what if it does?"
"It won't." Evie sighed and looked back again. There were people moving around, she could see them. Little ants pulling ropes and other official-looking things.
"Why isn't Mummy coming?"
"She can't, pet. She would if she could."
Evie held tight onto Daddy's hand when the tannoy rang out.
"Please make your way back to your cars now. Boarding will begin shortly."
They went...
"Ugh," Shiloh said, rolling her eyes over the steaming cup of coffee that she had been holding for the last twenty minutes.
Her boyfriend Micah looked across the table and couldn't help but let out a very quiet laugh. "What?" he asked, still laughing as he did.
"Don't what me," she replied softly, shaking her head as she took a very long sip of her still piping hot coffee. "Don't, Micah. You know exactly what that ugh was for."
After Micah had graduated from university with a degree in chemical engineering, he had convinced himself that he didn't want a...
"And, did he ever touch you inappropriately?"
Sarah paused her story for a moment, growing red in the face. "What?"
"Did he ever touch you, it's okay, you're not alone. This office is a safe place."
"Why would you even ask?" Sarah nearly yelled in her surprise.
"Look, I get a lot of patients coming through here and I just want them to know that they can talk to me freely. It would be statistically plausible that he touched you at one point."
"It would?"
"Yes, look, I have your breast interests in mind."
"Well... maybe, I dunno."
"He probably...
I don't know if that was a good idea. Who knows what would come of it? Maybe nothing, maybe something. It wasn't like writing that note was a spur of the moment kind of decision. It was something that I'd thought about doing a million times before. Of course, I'd always thought that I would have used very different words and say something entirely different. I hope I was wise, but I can't tell. I feel like I was just a little girl using grown up words. I don't know if that was a good idea...