Good Lord! What is that old fool doing. He is out and about with only a tatty old dressing gown and a pair of mouldy slippers on his feet. Thank goodness - he appears to have his pjs on, under that disgusting robe. People like that should be looked after. It is disgusting how families neglect their old folk. I would hate to grow old like that - put me in a home - NO - put me down first. I would rather have euthanasia than be reduced to a quivering, brainless, incontinent wreck. Thank goodness I am still young...
A Time to grow
And a Time to grow old
A Time to learn
And a Time to teach
A Time to receive
And a Time to give
A Time to look forward
And a Time to look back
A Time to face a new day
And a time to lay down your burdens and rest
As that new day shines on the newer life ready to meet it.
As the sun sets on one life,
It rises on another
And all is right with the world.
Circus time and the big top was humming with activity. Punters were arriving and children were shrieking for ice cream. The trapeze artists were warming up and I was standing holding one of the rope ladders steady as the Frazelli Family (Fantastical Flyers) were assuming their positions on the high wire.
Suddenly, there was a shriek from Bobobono, one of our clowns (not a very funny one if you ask me, but then I have never liked clowns).
"A child has fallen in the river."
At the bottom of the muddy field where we were camped, there ran a river....
"Oh! Captian, can I help you with something?"
I groan inwardly. Dana is the new flight attendant, and a horrible flirt. She looks at me and pushes a clump of short blonde curls away from her eyes. I smile politely.
"Oh-no, I just need to use the, uh, lavatory."
Her eyes spark. She puts her hand on my wrist.
"Here, I'll show you where it is."
Seriously?! This plane is not that big and even if it were, I'm the PILOT. I sigh and remove her from my arm.
"That's fine I'll find it on my own..." I slide my...
I sprawl out across my book-strewn bed. The window is shut tight, the words on the page are swimming, and the beat of the neighborhood "get together" pounds at my scull. "William Shakespeare is by far the world's most widely known and appreciated playwright..." The textbook sits next to me, seeming to take up my entire bedroom. I can't focus on anything with all this stupid music. I reach for the mug of cold coffee sitting on my bedside table and pound it back. I grimace at the cold bitterness as it slides down my tongue. The clock reads 3:17am....
Plain Jane never shone so brightly as when she held a pair of knitting needles in her long slender hands.
Her aunt had taught her the craft, hoping to initiate her into the family business, but eons later Jane still only filled in when the older woman was forced to take a few days off. Jane couldn't blame her. Holding that much power in your hands was intoxicating. No wonder she never wanted to retire.
Still, progress and time marched on, the strong became weaker, and the elderly were superceded by their more youthful contemporaries. When Jane suggested destinies be...
"Swing." She watched her daughter, ignoring the wails and screams.
"Push me Mom!"
"No. Lean back and put your legs out. Then lean forward and pull them back."
"PUSH me MOM! NOW!"
"No. Lean back then forward. You can do it yourself. You will go higher then. Higher than even I can push you."
"MOMMY! Push me!"
"No. You need to be able to do it yourself." She watched as her daughter swung her uncoordinated legs about before giving up.
"Mommy! It DOESN'T work!"
"Let me show you. See! If I lean back and forth the swing goes without someone...
I'm dead. Really dead. Not int he " there'll be a twist int he end and ill be saved kind of way. Just dead.
Something things you just know, and I knew by the growing pool of blood that it was over. Dying doesn't t hurt like you would think. I mean, yeah, it isn't fun, but the pain from being wounded, it dissipates.
I can't talk anymore. Breathing is sort of hard, and I can't lift my hands, but I can see, and I can hear, and I can hear the squeaky little cries. I can see my sister,...
Some mornings, when the sun rose just right, it was almost like nothing had happened. This was one of those mornings, a bright red dawn. I climbed out of my truck, zipped up my black hoodie and stretched to the sky.
Maybe it was all a dream? Surely it hadn't actually happened. I had gotten drunk, partied too hard, fallen asleep in the truck just outside of town, and now I could head back, and home would be home, and the residents would be people I knew and not those things.
I had nearly convinced myself of this happy thought...
Looking out my thirteenth floor office window, I marveled at how dark, gritty and simply dirty the air looked. It was so hazy, it looked like dusk even though I knew it was only two pm. I decided to give my brief a break and go eat some lunch, this was the first time in four hours I had looked up, and I noticed the stiffness in my back, the hunger gnawing at me.
"God, look how dark it is! It's like we live in Gotham City!" I said to the secretary. She didn't grin, like I had expected.
"What?"...