The elephant dragged its feet. Since they were made of rubber, this made the task all the more difficult, as she pulled herself by her front legs across the linoleum floor. The intermittent squeals of her back feet dragging, followed by the silence as she readied herself for another pull, created the slow and steady rhythm of her despair. Why had the toymaker failed to provide her with decent appendages? What child wanted to cuddle up with a stuffed animal with hard-soled rubber feet? Why had fate seen fit to give her creator a pragmatic bent which resulted in her...
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
Well, "standing" may be the wrong word. There's someone IN the corner of my room. The lights are off; only moonshine streaming through the window above my bed gives shape to the darkness there. It's bulky; that much I know. It's BIG, bigger than me. The size of its shadow dwarfs my small frame, or would anyway, if I dared move from beneath the covers of my linen sheets.
Feet tucked safely in, the monsters under my bed can't get me, but if I move the alien - for surely that's...
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...
"And when I get older, I'm going to be a fairy!" little Leslie exclaimed. On their second playdate, she and her new pre-school friends were already discussing their life goals. As the only girls in their new class, they quickly bonded and had to stick together.
As they grew, their friendship did as well. They squabbled over birthday party themes, which high-school to attend and not infrequently, boys. As two went off to college, Leslie chose a different route. She became known on the music festival circuit as the best-damn flowered headband maker... it wasn't long before she had her...
Punch Judy. What an interesting thought. Punching is an interesting action. If only I wasn't that familiar with it.
She didn't look at him she couldn't tell him. She couldn't even tell her family. What would they say? What would they think? Thanksgiving is tomorrow and the family is coming. Everyone even Lilian her fathers new wife she hasn't met but she aware is three months pregnant. He was so excited about what he got her. She wouldnf make eye contact with him thought she was ashamed of what she did. Six long years they spend together was ruined because of one night to many bares and laces panties. She didn't notice how much they had in common until...
We are plagued, wretched, cursed...
doomed to be followed by the multitude, hounded by paparazzi, our flesh peddled to feed the teeming multitudes who wish to consume every morsel of our existence.
Our every action scrutinized, our every facial expression or turn of phrase. Is it any wonder we act so... so... is it any wonder? Put any normal person under this sort of microscope, they would doubtless appear as insane as ourselves.
Of course, there is the whole nasty business of inbreeding. Keeping the gene pool pure? Hardly. Rather limiting it to royalty has caused countless genetic problems; our...
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 Potentate surveyed his creamsicle tower coolly.
Lord Howard stood behind him, rigid, hands neatly behind his back, and cleared his throat. Loudly.
The monarch continued to regard the sweet monstrosity before him.
Finally, Lord Howard stepped forward and addressed his sovereign ruler. "Sire," he said, polite and yet as frigid as the ice-cream on the table. "The people in your kingdom have barely enough to eat, let alone food to play with." His eyes darted to the large dairy-based castle slowly melting onto the linen tablecloth. "If you aren't going to eat your dessert, you shouldn't have taken it."...