I pushed through the entry way, not really wanting to face the admiral. I’d really rather face his execution, because I know his #orders are going to turn me into an execution, and if that happens I’m not sure what will happen with my sacred contract. #OzNolem #OneWord
His orders were clear. But following them would clearly scar me for life. No one should have to follow orders from a man who wears lime green crocs. No one should have to follow orders from anyone.
Curlfreak
I melt under your hands, my spine softer than your touch
my knees so weak I cannot stand, and you become my crutch.
you slowly line my veins like settled dust along a shelf
the more in love with you I am, the more I hate myself.
Leader gave the orders: kill everyone in sight. No one was to be spared.
But how could he? He knew his mother lived in the village below. And not to mention the others he grew up with. Those he called family. Those he called friends.
No matter the penalty, he could not kill them.
the bell on the counter talked and sent vibes to the burger who laid precariously all naked and roughed up. The hamburger turned over and looked under it’s patty, “who’s that there?” he asked in a slow voice, fading away into an air of digression from the couple who sat a few metres away.
J
They stood, watching what the doctor was doing, trying not to react. Each of them knew this could not be right, but they had to follow orders.
tonykeyesjapan
I love getting orders in the mail. Orders I didn’t chose. Orders I did. But then there are the orders I hate. When I’m ordered to do something. To think something. To be something. those orders are no fun at all. Or holy orders. very few people try that today. Why? It doesn’t make sense. Orders.
There they were, enjoying a simple evening…or so she thought. Dinner was peaceful and he seemed so sincere. They went back to his place and that’s when it happened. He began making orders toward her. He ordered her to do awful things and she couldn’t resist due to the fear building up inside of her body.
Theresa
Orders never run out. Orders are continuous. Orders can be mean, vicious. Rude.
Already orders, I’ve already taken orders! I don’t want orders, I don’t like them, I don’t need them, I don’t see them when I sleep, so I don’t dream them or hope for them I just give them, I don’t know any orders besides the ones that I make
orders are taken by those who take orders. Orders can be taken by many, and can be given by many. To take orders is to listen and adhere to another’s command or suggestion.
Dominique
orders. he was an ordlerly man. everyuthing had a place and he could do the most mundane tasks with extreme precision. all of that was fine unless he was watching over you. In that case you were likely not to do anything according to his ideals.
Three tuna on rye, one large pan of sliced apples, a very tiny doughnut with pink icing and multi-colored sprinkles, a pan of green beans – steamed, not fried – fourteen wedge cut french fries, one large slice of Boston brown bread and…I was taking orders like no tomorrow!!
Taking orders all day long. I flip burgers and take orders. I wish they called them wishes. I wished for a rodeo burger machine in my dreams and it just arrived today! I even can push an extra bbq sauce button for more! The onion rings come out in 1 to 4 in quantity. It might be the greatest day of my life.
the night the stars shone extra bright
we ordered chinese and ate with your mother.
i felt so hollow the whole time.
even in early morning when i beckoned you onto the loveseat.
you were already gone.
“You did not go to the barracks, Lieutenant Graham,” Colonel Francoise snapped as the lieutenant snapped to attention.
“No, ma’am, I did not.”
“You deliberately ignored my orders and went to the frontlines. Is that correct as well?”
“Yes, ma’am, that is correct.”
Colonel Francoise sighed. “First mistake – you always follow my orders. Second mistake – you do not call me ‘ma’am.’ You do not call me ‘miss,’ or ‘missus,’ or ‘madam,’ or ‘little lady.’ You call me ‘Colonel.’ Got it, Graham?”
Belinda Roddie
I didn’t want to listen to it. It whirled in my ear but did not pass into my brain. His orders no longer seemed to affect me, just came through like passing fog.
chiara
Orders are like ways of being
you order this or that, I order you to stop, or does that complete your order?
He has a mental order, his mom told me.
Him and all his friends have orders. It’s genetic: their parents gave it to them
But they find solace knowing that they all have orders.
I hate them all.
Stanley stared blankly at his computer screen, waiting for the days’ orders from his boss. You see, Stanley worked for a computer company, and everyday of every minute, he was given orders and typed whatever appeared on the screen.
My boss had these annoying pants that swished when she walked. She wore the same type of pants everyday, so whenever she was near, all I heard was….swish, swish, swish. I had no way of hearing what the heck she was telling me to do because of the dumb swishing.
Lindee
We’ve got to drop canvas! She’s takin’ too much heat!
She can hold a mite longer. Prepare to board! Hoist the mizzenmast, heave-to, hard a starboard!
…Captain, you’re babblin’ like a brook!
Horace Matson
we file in. 47 of us in a row. woman after woman. not checking what’s between our legs. the scent gives us away. and so does the rouge on our cheeks, the foundation stains on our blouses. and we are picked up in groups of five with two left over, one for each, none wasted
I jumped up when she yelled. I was used to taking orders by then, not questioning them were a rule. I was twenty, I wasn’t allowed to question. Not to madam, especially! I ran to the living room, straightening the light wrinkles on my skirt, ready to obey.
a pizza
a sándwich
a coke
a table
a place in a restaurant
a special gift
some chips
some drinks
alicia
I bowed low to my king, my stomach churning with what he had asked me to do. My hands shook in my robe, but I would not let my feelings show. I was an assassin. Not a murderer. Not a torturer. Not a firing squad.
“Now run back in there right god damn now and get me what I’m asking for!”
The small yet seemingly muscly man shouted.
I hustled back to the room he was indicating
And grabbed the item off the nearest shelf before
I ran it back to him.
Serving at an old folks home can be rough sometimes.
Ellie
He barked out the command at the top his lungs. He was easily the most impressive figure on the site. With hulking shoulders and an ogre-like brow he could easily command the respect of any of his workers.
He was a boisterous man. He was a simple man. He was Bob.
The waiter came to take our orders. I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled; a table of half a dozen giggly old friends, gearing up to get ourselves fuzzy-drunk on cocktails and nostalgia.
lauren
We were merely following orders. Sound familiar? Nuremberg anyone? Orders, or instructions, are often excuses to avoid using personal judgment. Data replaces thought.
Gary Hokit
“Your orders, majesty?”
Elsa blinked, a poor attempt to draw herself from her tumultuous thoughts. “I’m sorry?”
Illisendale’s guard-captain’s eyes darted to the hard ground – a silent apology for interrupting her thoughts – before finding hers once more, their familiar crystalline depths somehow not lacking in warmth, despite the seriousness of the situation. “What are your orders, my lady?” she repeated, her voice softening in time with her gaze.
The princess-no-longer felt her heart swell with love for her captain, her own dear Liansi.
I had orders. Orders to kill her, to kill all of them. But it wasn’t just orders. It was down right murder. Why did I agree to do it? What in the world was I thinking?
Alison
They ordered her execution. And when they could not kill her, they ordered her banishment. And when they could not bring themselves to make her leave, they ordered her to be raised up in the arms of the populace, the new queen of the land, past sins forgotten. The woman simply smiled at this, her mission complete.
I pushed through the entry way, not really wanting to face the admiral. I’d really rather face his execution, because I know his #orders are going to turn me into an execution, and if that happens I’m not sure what will happen with my sacred contract. #OzNolem #OneWord
His orders were clear. But following them would clearly scar me for life. No one should have to follow orders from a man who wears lime green crocs. No one should have to follow orders from anyone.
I melt under your hands, my spine softer than your touch
my knees so weak I cannot stand, and you become my crutch.
you slowly line my veins like settled dust along a shelf
the more in love with you I am, the more I hate myself.
Leader gave the orders: kill everyone in sight. No one was to be spared.
But how could he? He knew his mother lived in the village below. And not to mention the others he grew up with. Those he called family. Those he called friends.
No matter the penalty, he could not kill them.
the bell on the counter talked and sent vibes to the burger who laid precariously all naked and roughed up. The hamburger turned over and looked under it’s patty, “who’s that there?” he asked in a slow voice, fading away into an air of digression from the couple who sat a few metres away.
They stood, watching what the doctor was doing, trying not to react. Each of them knew this could not be right, but they had to follow orders.
I love getting orders in the mail. Orders I didn’t chose. Orders I did. But then there are the orders I hate. When I’m ordered to do something. To think something. To be something. those orders are no fun at all. Or holy orders. very few people try that today. Why? It doesn’t make sense. Orders.
There they were, enjoying a simple evening…or so she thought. Dinner was peaceful and he seemed so sincere. They went back to his place and that’s when it happened. He began making orders toward her. He ordered her to do awful things and she couldn’t resist due to the fear building up inside of her body.
Orders never run out. Orders are continuous. Orders can be mean, vicious. Rude.
Already orders, I’ve already taken orders! I don’t want orders, I don’t like them, I don’t need them, I don’t see them when I sleep, so I don’t dream them or hope for them I just give them, I don’t know any orders besides the ones that I make
lady tremaine
bossy
waiter
arbys
chilis
bible
stepmother
evil
obey
disobey
soldier
break
command
orders are taken by those who take orders. Orders can be taken by many, and can be given by many. To take orders is to listen and adhere to another’s command or suggestion.
orders. he was an ordlerly man. everyuthing had a place and he could do the most mundane tasks with extreme precision. all of that was fine unless he was watching over you. In that case you were likely not to do anything according to his ideals.
“I have my orders, sir,” the young officer said. “I am to stay here until I receive orders to leave.”
“Orders, schmorders,” the old man grumbled as he turned away. He spun. “Dammit, Jimmy, you’re my son! You can let me get through!”
The orders come in on little slips of paper with nonsense symbols on them, but I fill them anyways. I have my orders.
His orders rang in the back of my awareness with muffled fog. I only realized his voice after I had come out of my daze.
Three tuna on rye, one large pan of sliced apples, a very tiny doughnut with pink icing and multi-colored sprinkles, a pan of green beans – steamed, not fried – fourteen wedge cut french fries, one large slice of Boston brown bread and…I was taking orders like no tomorrow!!
Taking orders all day long. I flip burgers and take orders. I wish they called them wishes. I wished for a rodeo burger machine in my dreams and it just arrived today! I even can push an extra bbq sauce button for more! The onion rings come out in 1 to 4 in quantity. It might be the greatest day of my life.
My orders were simple, if by simple you mean ethically challenging to the highest degree. But I didn’t give the orders. So I went.
Orders! Orders! All day!!! over and over!
the night the stars shone extra bright
we ordered chinese and ate with your mother.
i felt so hollow the whole time.
even in early morning when i beckoned you onto the loveseat.
you were already gone.
order of business:
1. work until the sun goes down
2. thrive into the night
“You did not go to the barracks, Lieutenant Graham,” Colonel Francoise snapped as the lieutenant snapped to attention.
“No, ma’am, I did not.”
“You deliberately ignored my orders and went to the frontlines. Is that correct as well?”
“Yes, ma’am, that is correct.”
Colonel Francoise sighed. “First mistake – you always follow my orders. Second mistake – you do not call me ‘ma’am.’ You do not call me ‘miss,’ or ‘missus,’ or ‘madam,’ or ‘little lady.’ You call me ‘Colonel.’ Got it, Graham?”
I didn’t want to listen to it. It whirled in my ear but did not pass into my brain. His orders no longer seemed to affect me, just came through like passing fog.
Orders are like ways of being
you order this or that, I order you to stop, or does that complete your order?
He has a mental order, his mom told me.
Him and all his friends have orders. It’s genetic: their parents gave it to them
But they find solace knowing that they all have orders.
I hate them all.
Thank god I’ve a disorder.
Stanley stared blankly at his computer screen, waiting for the days’ orders from his boss. You see, Stanley worked for a computer company, and everyday of every minute, he was given orders and typed whatever appeared on the screen.
My boss had these annoying pants that swished when she walked. She wore the same type of pants everyday, so whenever she was near, all I heard was….swish, swish, swish. I had no way of hearing what the heck she was telling me to do because of the dumb swishing.
We’ve got to drop canvas! She’s takin’ too much heat!
She can hold a mite longer. Prepare to board! Hoist the mizzenmast, heave-to, hard a starboard!
…Captain, you’re babblin’ like a brook!
we file in. 47 of us in a row. woman after woman. not checking what’s between our legs. the scent gives us away. and so does the rouge on our cheeks, the foundation stains on our blouses. and we are picked up in groups of five with two left over, one for each, none wasted
I jumped up when she yelled. I was used to taking orders by then, not questioning them were a rule. I was twenty, I wasn’t allowed to question. Not to madam, especially! I ran to the living room, straightening the light wrinkles on my skirt, ready to obey.
a pizza
a sándwich
a coke
a table
a place in a restaurant
a special gift
some chips
some drinks
I bowed low to my king, my stomach churning with what he had asked me to do. My hands shook in my robe, but I would not let my feelings show. I was an assassin. Not a murderer. Not a torturer. Not a firing squad.
“Now run back in there right god damn now and get me what I’m asking for!”
The small yet seemingly muscly man shouted.
I hustled back to the room he was indicating
And grabbed the item off the nearest shelf before
I ran it back to him.
Serving at an old folks home can be rough sometimes.
He barked out the command at the top his lungs. He was easily the most impressive figure on the site. With hulking shoulders and an ogre-like brow he could easily command the respect of any of his workers.
He was a boisterous man. He was a simple man. He was Bob.
Hear Bob roar.
The waiter came to take our orders. I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled; a table of half a dozen giggly old friends, gearing up to get ourselves fuzzy-drunk on cocktails and nostalgia.
We were merely following orders. Sound familiar? Nuremberg anyone? Orders, or instructions, are often excuses to avoid using personal judgment. Data replaces thought.
“Your orders, majesty?”
Elsa blinked, a poor attempt to draw herself from her tumultuous thoughts. “I’m sorry?”
Illisendale’s guard-captain’s eyes darted to the hard ground – a silent apology for interrupting her thoughts – before finding hers once more, their familiar crystalline depths somehow not lacking in warmth, despite the seriousness of the situation. “What are your orders, my lady?” she repeated, her voice softening in time with her gaze.
The princess-no-longer felt her heart swell with love for her captain, her own dear Liansi.
I had orders. Orders to kill her, to kill all of them. But it wasn’t just orders. It was down right murder. Why did I agree to do it? What in the world was I thinking?
They ordered her execution. And when they could not kill her, they ordered her banishment. And when they could not bring themselves to make her leave, they ordered her to be raised up in the arms of the populace, the new queen of the land, past sins forgotten. The woman simply smiled at this, her mission complete.
pizza, fast food, doctors, telling someone what to do. placing orders online,