In hindsight, the solution was obvious.
It was staring me right in the face the entire time but for some reason I had a hard time coming to terms with it.
It wasn't really his fault, in a way I guess you could say it was my fault. I was the one who always wanted to try new things and that night, he had been nowhere to be found. I jumped in with both feet, never once thinking about the consequences.
It was easy for me, I had no ties to anyone or anything. Well except for him.
He, on...
Through the veil she was almost as pretty as I'd wished she would have been the first time we met for real, in real life, in person on the street. The love of my life.
I remembered that in certain photographs she had this quality, like an angel or maybe just someone who thought they were one, so strung out they could touch the sky. She wasn't that pretty, no pixie dust queen, just another girl who liked to make faces. But I think I love her.
You hope that, and I hoped that, the love of my life--because that's...
They were trapped for seven days. Faced with a myriad of uncertainties, this much Antonius knew to be true. The pangs of hunger had eventually morphed into a constant feeling of nausea. However there was no escaping the continual thirst that couldn't be quenched. How he desired his lips to touch the current of a fresh spring. Anything to replace the mix of his urine and rain water he had survived on this past week. Still the worst of his locked away environment was the person with whom he shared his cell, Marcus.
"How can he sit there with that...
Potatoes.
That's all the six year old girl would eat. And it seemed that no matter what else I tried to serve her, potatoes was it. She wouldn't try anything else. Wouldn't look at anything else. All she ever wanted? Potatoes.
"Honey, what are we supposed to do?" I sighed, sliding into bed that night. "We went out to the Olive Garden. And she asked for potatoes!"
My husband chuckled a little. "Well, look on the bright side: at least it's a vegetable she wants. Could be worse."
"This is bad enough! No protein! No grain! Heck, even sugar would...
"No. Seriously. More natural. It won't kill you.
"What? The camera. The wait, though. The wait might kill me.
"You, sit down. No, please. *Please* sit down. No, not you. Because you're in white trousers, that's why!
"Look, I know this is new. This is new to me, too. But in the future? Oh, yes! In the future! This will be the thing. THE. THING.
"What? No. No, they won't need flash pans. I'm certain. Or these -- these tents. No, they'll be able to carry them around in their pockets. No, not like those pockets. No, sir, please, hands...
He never had good taste. He was a rough and tumble builder who wore loud tee shirts or football kit and drank nothing but cheap beer. He was a bully and a loudmouth. But still I married him.
I don't even remember why? He wasn't especially good looking. Lately, he'd even been proud of his ever-expanding beer belly and his ever-decreasing hair. He was my children's father though.
I'm mean, I'm getting older too. Bit thicker round the middle an' all. Few wrinkles around the eyes - smile lines. That's what they should be anyway. Mine are more frown lines....
Potatoes.
Kept in the cellar in a woven sack. My pillow for the last three weeks since Grandpa decided I was too bad to live with the rest of them.
Not that I did anything wrong by normal people's standards.
Grandpa was funny in the head. Grandma was scared of him so went along with his punishments for us kids, and took a beating herself too.
Life was hard for her. Grandpa had a way that could make himself look like a regular person when he met other folks. No-one knew what was really going on in our home.
The...
The medicine man had always talked about the circle of life that continues unbroken like the circling stars in the heavens, but Mousaf had never been very religious. His village was small, but he was happy with what he had - the woven cloak on his back given to him by his long dead mother, the cello his brother had given him before the accident, and the breath in his lungs. What more could he possibly want?
So Mousaf made his living as the ancient bards had, traveling from village to village. His voice may not have captured hearts, but...
I jumped. I blacked out. When I awoke, head ringing and eyes spotted with colours, he turned round slowly.
"You ever heard of an Ox Bow Lake?"
"nuhuh" I said. Mind you, the gag would have rendered the same result as a Shakespeare soliloquy.
"sahwiwochee" Hell, it was different. Maybe if you were a dentist, this conversation would be less one sided. I eyed the man who had broken in to the lab, wondering if he'd had orthodontist training. He knew his way round a physics lab alright, but fiddling with the quantum accelerator probably wasn't the best idea. That...
The storm clouds gathered as Isaiah stepped back to the edge of the green.
The weather mirrored his mood: top ten was not enough. Podium finishes were not enough. Second place was NOT ENOUGH. He was the BEST, and he was going to prove it to the world once again.
A soft pitter-patter of raindrops began to sprinkle down upon the aged lawn bowler's wispy-haired head. He ignored its effect on his body, blinking the water out of his eyes, but he factored it in for his movements, making subtle adjustments to his stride, his footing, and his release. He...