But as he curled up in her lap later that evening, she had come to a final decision, potty training would be non-negotiable.
Kate fell in love as soon as they met, and he accompanied her home that very same day. His big soulful eyes and sweet manner sent her lonely heart racing. He would be her perfect Valentine's Day gift, forever and always.
But as he curled up in her lap later that evening, she had come to a final decision, potty training would be non-negotiable. ‘What time did you get in?’ Ron asked.
‘Midnight.’ Shirley replied. Ron recalled waking up at 2am to the sound of a taxi door slamming and Shirley calling goodbye to her friends, followed by the clattering of Shirley’s shoes falling down the stairs as she carried them in an attempt to be quiet. Then shushing herself, followed by giggling whilst humming a song she’d danced to earlier in the evening ‘Did you had a good time?’ ‘Oh you know me. One glass of wine and I’m ready for bed. I’m glad I didn’t disturb you.’ Ron smiled but said nothing. "No! No more...what don't you understand about the word, 'No'? There is no more left."
°°°Like Hell! I can see your plate. "Don't look at me like that. Oooh... Well... OK, it's better to give than to receive. How often do you get a treat like this?" °°°Since you can't resist 'that look' I give you, a lot more times if you would make it more often. "You're a good boy, Dutch." °°°I know. "AARF"! I, a ten-year-old boy, stood in a ring of over-awed children. A dead snake and a stick lay on the ground.
Dad was seen rushing towards us. “A Brahmin boy, who is to become a priest, never kills,” he said. He took the stick in his hand. I closed my eyes. The sound of a couple of thrashes followed, but I was untouched. I saw him walking away, the snake dangling from the stick. “He took your sin on himself by beating the dead snake”, someone told me. Sorry, dad. I’d never kill again. I gaze at my reflection in the bathroom mirror; after all this while, the ice blue of my eyes still startles me. I pinch my specially-designed contact lenses and slide them carefully from my eyes. I blink a few times, trying to get used to the sensation of not having the contact lenses in. Without these silicone disks, I'd be singled out, vilified and feared. I contemplate my eyes in the mirror – they're a solid shining black, no pupils, no white, nothing.
Just like my other brethren who now call Earth home. After 30 years of harsh industrial labor and not a penny more to show for his efforts; Hank killed himself.
The boss hired a new man the following Monday. The new man was Bill. Over the next 4 decades Bill burned his body on hot ore, herniated himself lifting steel beams, and lost several fingers to a piece of machinery. The day of his retirement Bill took a walk in the cemetery where he stumbled across Hanks grave. Reading the dates on the tombstone he discovered Hank died relatively young. Bill wondered if the poor guy knew what hit him. “If you can’t stop that dog barking every time someone comes to the door, he’s going to the pound!”
Tearful children and an angry wife but five hundred dollars and ten obedience classes later, Archie welcomed every visitor with a wag of his fluffy tail, instead of barks and growls. Harmony restored. A family outing to the cinema. “We’ve been robbed! My television, my sound system, my golf clubs!” Archie wagged his fluffy tail. A virus is taking over the world, Annie thought. Will we make it? How bad will it get?
First there was a run on face masks. Then canned food. Her father bought the last four filters from McClellan’s hardware two towns over. There were rumblings that the military would be called in, mandatory curfews. She hated to admit it, but it might be a good idea. When did this go from a news report you could ignore to everyday panic? Annie looked over at the calendar to count the months: it was February in the year of our Lord, 1918. I was broke. The notorious soul painter. No one wanted me to paint them anymore. One look and I could see through them. Despite my best efforts, the finished painting showed their wicked, plotting face on canvas, not the smiling, benevolent one.
“He’s pure as snow,” I told the economic offence officers. They had taken me with them while interrogating the businessman to get their suspicion confirmed before launching a full-scale probe. “Just name your amount,” the man had told me earlier. Honesty didn’t get me my meals, did it? Why does evil wear black? The question flashed through her mind although her gaze was fixed unwaveringly on the blade in his hand. They were alone in the alley, just her and Mr Evil amid the stench of garbage, their dim shadows captured in the faint flicker of the distant street light.
She acted quickly! Replacing her knife inside her red jacket, she spared a moment to watch as his entrails spilled onto the pavement. A smile curved her lips. His black hoodie was a mistake, evil had no need to advertise, and red was such a pretty colour. Anthony set his new class Lemony Snickett’s 'A Bad Beginning'.
So darkly ironic, he thought. The kids will love it. To link it to the curriculum outcome of increased capacity to understand diverse texts, he invited them to write a page-long autobiography. 'Your life story so far – just whatever you feel comfortable sharing,' he enthused. Sifting through his student’s papers, Anthony started to feel his inexperience like a curse. Fourteen claimed Pewdiepie saved their life. Eleven girls and two boys loved Billie Eilish’s emotional truth. All of them had done spontaneous TikTok dances. Not one of them mentioned their parents. Jeremy asked for a lollipop. He had been travelling for five hours and he needed something to take his mind off the trip. He looked forward to going, but eight hours was a long time to drive. Jeremy thought it was worth it when his new puppy licked his face.
Each day, I walk across the street to meet them; it’s my favorite part of the day. I smile at the pretty one having tea with her husband. I quietly listen as the chubby one reads the paper to hers. A simple wave goes to the really old one while she knits him decor. A safe distance for the foreign one barking obscenities to a name I can’t read.
Mommy demands a hobby; that I keep from those “Old Loons”. I promise, although I won’t. Then I feel sorry for her...her love for Daddy is not like theirs. She rarely ventured further than the pathway that led to the edge of the forest, fearful of what lurked within.
But that day for some reason she did, her heart beat heavily the further in she walked. The forest was eerily silent except for her own footsteps on the undergrowth. When she stopped to admire the twisted trunk of an old tree she heard a noise- footsteps on dried leaves. Motionless she listened as they drew nearer. And, that is when she saw them- she knew they would be the last things she would ever see. “The elephant left the room,” Annie insisted.
“No! The elephant never left the room,” Norton snorted back. Dad interrupted. “Both wrong. The saying goes: ‘the elephant in the room.” “But what if the elephant has never been in the room?” the younger sibling Norton asked. “Then he couldn’t have left the room, silly.” Annie made a weird face. Norton looked around before letting out a squeal. “Mommy, it’s gone!” As he ran out, Baxter rushed in. Dangling from the dog’s mouth was a stream of saliva and Norton’s plush toy. “You see,” Dad said. “The elephant is in the room.” Dan circled the half-opened package: returned to sender due to insufficient postage. From his wife, addressed to a “Derek Walford” in Seattle. Claire had gone to high school there. Twenty-eight years and 2,800 miles ago.
Inside: not love letters or dirty pictures, although those would have been easier to understand. Instead, new unopened CDs from a girl group from the 1960s. Songs that Claire had always loved but Dan never cared for. Something was happening here. Then Claire pulled the minivan into the driveway. Dan grabbed the package and hid it. He added postage and mailed it the next day. Almost all of Laura's work colleagues had decided to celebrate the first Friday after Veganuary. After a month of kale, Quorn, tofu, lentils and almond milk, one group was heading to a local steak-house; another was celebrating with kebabs.
Laura, though, was one of the few who hadn't taken on the vegan challenge. "You should try it sometime," her friend Fiona said. "A vegan breakfast is a great way to start the day." Laura smiled quietly but said nothing. She and Dave had found their own great way to start each day that January. It hadn't even involved leaving bed. Purgatory is not what I thought it would be, although not being Catholic I didn’t know much about it anyway. It’s a truck stop, standing all alone in the middle of a scrubby, endless desert. The basically timeless short-order restaurant is filled with customers, all types, young and old, each looking just as lost as I am. The waitress has seen better days but is nice, and keeps delivering food orders to everyone. I wonder how long I will be here. At least the french fries are crisp, greasy and delicious. I guess it could be worse.
The mainmast of the ketch Lucia snapped as the storm raged higher.
Water flooded in through the portholes and the captain ordered all crew to start bailing. But the shore looked close, so deckhand Henry lept overboard and swam for it. The captain cursed him for a coward. Another wave smashed the hull and the ketch sank, everyone else drowned. A century later Henry’s great-granddaughter was walking along the beach at low tide. She tripped on a plank of wood - part of the rotting ribs of the Lucia. Surprised, she cursed, kept walking, and forgot about it. When King Theobald was gravely ill, all the people in his kingdom praised him, saying what a gracious and resourceful monarch he was, and wished him a fast recovery.
Once the King died from a long bout of the bubonic plague, everyone could relax and breathe out a sigh of relief. Now that the King was dead, they spoke about the ruthless way he governed and the many people that he tortured and beheaded. But their reprieve was short-lived. A new king would soon take the throne. They hoped that his rule would be shorter and less barbaric. |
"Classic"
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