”I am a rock, I am an island.” I identified with Simon and Garfunkel’s lyrics so thoroughly that I believed my poetry and my books were all I needed. But then you swam my channel and invaded my island. Together we tore down my fortress and built a chateau. You made me remember that passion and excitement are real, not just words in my memory. I’ve traded my shroud of snow for one of burial. Thank you, Zaroff. You taught me that love isn’t the most dangerous game you can play. Welcome to my Ship-Trap.
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The World's Misconception
I knew the impact from the torpedo fired by the German U-Boat would be coming, and yet the adrenaline still rushed through my fingers. I looked down. My hands weren’t shaking, but I thought they would be once my body hit the freezing water. It would all be worth it when I presented the book to my government: the Germans that would rule the world. This would pay my debt to them. Charles Dickens owned THIS copy of A Christmas Carol. He put notes in it! And it was tucked inside my jacket in a waterproof bag. All I had to do was get off the ship. Chaos reigned like a psychotic monarchy in Egypt. I laughed because I was thinking of the Ptolemy’s as I was on a doomed ship. The creaking started as the hull split. It was time to bail. I scrambled to put on my life vest and look as disoriented as the other screaming passengers. Brits and Americans shouted English in accents that clashed like symbols in my ears. I dove overboard, keeping my hands, which were now shaking, on the priceless book in my jacket. The world would think it sank with the Lusitania.
By Lisa Geiger11 months ago in Fiction
She loves me
She loved me. When I was small and my wee stayed to the paper. When I was rumpled skin and floppy big paws and big eyes looking up and waiting for her hands to find me, scooping me up and bringing me into her. And we were happy, so happy, so very, very happy. I was so happy to see her and danced my circles so she'd know how much I wanted nothing more than for her to hold me. I'd wrap, wiggle, wiggle and wrap my growing body with my bestest happy dance, slumping and kerplumping into her warm parts just like she liked me to. She was there and I was there, and we were there together, and it was perfect. Oh, how she loved me! We spent all our time together, playing inside, outside, up, down, going round and round. And she petted me and called me good girl when I made poops, and sometimes when I weed in her front yard or the neighbor's, and I was the best girl. For her, I really was! And she scratched me behind my ears, and it was heaven. I aowooo my joy! And she aowoooed hers too.
By Christy Munson6 days ago in Fiction
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