ashnau
Fritz ducked so his head did not hit the bird's nest tucked between the branches. The two monks trailed behind him, clutching each others arms in fear. When Fritz lifted a hand, they both froze. "Wait," he whispered, his trained ears catching the sound of approaching enemies.
I leaned against his chest, taking a moment to catch my breath. Everything was spinning from his kisses, and not in the good way. In the worst way possible. I just wanted to throw up all over his face.
The door in front of me was closed, but I had to get inside. I had to hide somewhere. The man was coming, I could hear him calling out. Yelling, I threw the whole force of my body against the door. It budged, but just barely. I pushed again and again, until there was just enough space for me to get through.
I'm a little less than average. At my best, I'm coming in second. I have been in this spot all my life, and I think I'm ok with that. I may not be good as you, but I am who I am. I'll be who I am supposed to be, do what ever I want to do. This is my life, my second rate life.
"I feel lousy," she sighed, running her hand through her long hair. Knots got caught up between her fingers and she tugged to free them. Her boyfriend didn't look up from the computer at all. She sighed again, "You ever just want to run away? Grab a bag and go somewhere?"
The reader looks up from her book at the smiling man before her. He's trying to pull her attention from her book, away from the thrilling mystery beneath it's pages. She catches his smile and finds it reason enough to put the book down. Catching a killer can wait. Tonight, she wants to fall in love.
They wanted an adventure, to go out and see the world, hand in hand. So off the two went, with a few hundred dollars and a bag of clothes. They thought seeing the world would make them stronger, bring them closer together. It was all they ever wanted to do.
The sail of the ship fluttered beneath the wind. Harlan looked away from the wheel, wondering where Stefanie had wandered off to. He saw her, leaning over the edge of the boat. She was staring down at the water, pushing herself closer and closer, trying to touch the blue.
She pulled on her leather jacket. As she closed each clasp, she muttered a short prayer. Engraved on each one was a name of a fallen comrade. Her fingers faltered for a moment as she touched the name of her husband. Swallowing the grief, she continued on. The top button was left blank, reserved for her own name.
The balloon popped with a large bang. As the thin white string fell down, the little girl began to cry. Her precious toy was gone, exploded by a single gust of wind.
load more entries