That Bittersweet Escape...
NOTE: This story was inspired by a short sequence in "The Things They Carried," by Tim O'Brien. It was written for a creative writing course back in my college days. I came across it recently, and thought it wasn't half bad.
He couldn't shake the feeling. Maybe it was the dream in the early throes of dawn--only vaguely remembered, a smothering crimson blur in the haze of sleep's retreating boarders--or maybe it was the still, eerie silence of the Asian sunrise. The silence was just a little too silent, like the calm before a storm.
Either way, Lavender could feel the doom slithering over his shoulders, settling like a massive jungle python's cold weight, coiling tighter. Tighter.
And the brain-bucket with the numbers was close.
A Brief Word from Your Sponsor...
The first time I ever heard of 3Guys Furniture Resource, Inc., I was seventeen years old and running down Highway 666. My mother had just fallen off the roof while taking down the Christmas decorations. Well, we were so poor that we didn't even have a phone, and Dad hadn't got the car fixed yet, so I had to take off for help...on foot.
That's when I met the guys at 3Guys Furniture Resource, Inc. They picked me up and gave me a ride to the nearest service station—they even gave me a quarter to call from the pay phone, since the *BLEEP* clerk wouldn't let me use his phone.
Well, Mom was pronounced dead on arrival by the paramedics, but in retrospect, I see now that that was really one of the luckiest days of my life. When I went in later to express my gratitude to the guys, I found the world's best deal on a sofa! A price so low, in fact, that even my dad could afford it...especially with one less mouth to feed.
3GUYS FURNITURE RESOURCE, INC.
Because we care...
The Secret of Lovers
Ah, how she loved him: his life, his death. His last minutes. Oh so peaceful...
...So, so intense.
She kept her secret hidden within her folds, embracing her
love. His body still warm, she savored the boy's glorious texture against her impersonal flesh, the taste of his spilled blood. It now tasted of peace.
last moments echoed throughout the small room: The icy, crystalline tingle of the storm's breath following him in, his white-powdered shoes leaving her puddled and wet. But she did not--could not--mind! His eyes deep, soulless windows, pain-branded with the counted sorrows of a lifelong aria, as if the howling wind outside had been his only companion. Across the narrow floor, he'd cast a simple, baleful glance into one of her mirrors, seeing
The Damnedest Thing...
His mood changed in a second. We'd been lying on the floor, tickling each other and beeping noses and exploring all the fascinating aspects of the shag carpeting together, giggling our heads off and drooling more than our fair share...well, at least one of us was...
Anyway, we were bonding happily on the carpet when the phone began to jingle in the same way it does at least half-a-dozen times a day, and it happened just like that. (Well, you'd've probably gotten the point better if you could've heard me snap my fingers just then, but I guess you can't, huh? But you get the point. Anyway:) In the time it took that initial ring to begin and finish, little Damon went from elated gales of bubbling laughter to the most full-blown, hurricane-force shrieks his eleven-month-old lungs could muster. I've never seen such an all-consuming, convulsive panic in a child before, even when I drug his big brother Dabney--kicking and screaming--into the one-foot swells of the endless Pacific, telling him "We're gonna have fun here whether you like it or not, dammit!".
An Open Apology to the Arizona Cardinals
Dear Team, Coaches & Staff:
I am so sorry. I realize how completely inadequate you think those words must feel after last season, but you can't imagine how much more pitiful and meaningless they will be after I explain myself--what I've done to you...
I just hope you can forgive me in your hearts, as I know your loyal fans will forgive what they think is your loss. I'm a fan, and I was excited. But I can tell you right here and now that the Arizona Cardinals did not lose Superbowl XLIII. Warner got the ball to Urban and--