Baby on Fire
I wasn't supposed to be in his office. Not now—not ever. That was the command. His command. First, it started with the office, now the basement. Soon it'd be the dining room, the guest bedroom—our bedroom, even. Nothing could shock me too much anymore, but let's just stay I was starting to grow impatient.
Charles Wheatley pushes through the gas station doors for the one-hundred and thirty-first time this year. For five days a week he stops on his way home from work, legs exhausted, smelling like raw meat, to buy one Sprite and one lottery ticket. He doesn’t tell anyone, even his wife. To them, the lottery is a loser’s game, but he always wins. Perhaps he loses a few real dollars, but he gains so much potential. That’s what keeps him alive.
Cubiclization of relationships amidst advancements in communicational technologies
As humans, we have an undeniable need - no, dare I say a necessity to share experience. The ways this has been done, ranging from word of mouth, to writing, post, electronic communication, have, in the course of their development accelerated the speed at which this representing of our stories to each other take place. And perhaps, via this mechanism, ushered in forms which may not have been studied formally such as literature or cinema.
She opened the journal. It had been her mother’s. The black leathery exterior felt soft, almost feathery in her hands - the paper pages aged. Her mother had specifically willed the journal to her; the two had been close, but they had fallen out of contact shortly before her mother had passed.
Firewood When Joseph opened his mouth it made a strange crackling sound, as if parts of his tongue were cracking. The wood stove had been left on overnight, and now the house was an almost uninhabitable desert, the corners of his eyes and crevices of his skin all bone dry and aching. He glanced at the end table beside his recliner and saw a large, very old, glass of water. Small white particles floated near the bottom of the glass. He couldn’t wait; it would have to do. He slowly leaned as far as he could to the side, aiming his mouth for the large metal straw resting against the side of the cup. Joseph realized that his urostomy bag was full to the point of bursting, an uncomfortable sensation as he leaned over. Still, he needed the drink. When his lips met the straw he sucked and the sudden moisture at the back of his throat made him cough.
The Secrets We Keep
How did I get myself here? I asked myself as I snuck into my girlfriend’s home office, with the key to the locked drawer clutched in my sweaty palm. Opening the drawer, I took note of how the contents were arranged, to ensure that I would return them to their original state, after sifting through it.
For my Louisa
The hell are you hoping to find out there anyway? The ranger’s words ring in my ears. Not accusatory, more a suggestion of concern. Few come out into this dusty scrubland by choice unless they have a good reason.
He Was Everything
Ben wanted so badly to kiss his best friend. His best friend since elementary school. The guy who stopped him from going off the rails with other kids, and helped him consistently with his hot headed self righteousness... who got him to see things in a grounded, level and down to earth kind of way.
Dating: Do's & Don'ts
Dating is complicated. So we simplified it for you. What to do and what not to do - the Dating edition.
Match.com, Tinder, JDate, and beyond. Welcome to the world wide web of dating. Are you ready to sign up?
Second Chance at Love
From breaking up after 3 years to divorcing after 50; we're here to tell you that you can love again.
The role seemed simple enough. Actor. Middle aged male. Impressive build. To play business guru. $20,000 payment. Of course, I wasn’t male, middle aged, or of impressive build. But I was broke, on the verge of eviction and possessed the pluck that I could do anything, play anyone, be whoever I wanted. Maybe I was just another desperate actor, but from what I could tell, the only difference between guru and disciple was the guru’s ability to con everyone. And if not a con artist, what in the end was an actor?
The Art of Amnesia
In a rectangular chair with boxy wooden arms pressing uncomfortably into my ribcage, my entire body sinks with exhaustion. The room is flooded with aggressive fluorescent light and I rest my forehead in my palm to spare my eyes the relentless attack. I keep one leg crossed over the other so I can bounce one foot in the air; the only physical release of my frustration and concern.
Old, and the Young men of the sea
Sweat falls freely from his forehead, t-shirt sprouting perspiration patches under armpits, back and chest. Breathing warm humid air adding to his enduring discomfort. All said and done, reminded Jack Lamont just how he much he loved his new adopted Country.
Between the pages
The bench had been designed with a wave of elegance, some architect no doubt commissioned to mimic the ripples in the lake, or the way a leaf falls. They had used a rich acacia to cut slat after slat which slowly undulated from left to right on this box seat. A floating back of more slats rising and falling above it. It was nestled tight within the foliage which looked out across the smooth surface of the lake. Clearly visible from the other side, though careful planting meant that most didn’t find it easy to locate.
"This is the worst thing I’ve ever read." She said coolly, closing her latest book with a thud and stamping out her cigarette. "I f**king loved it. Let’s get coffee."
Something about being a confidant brings fullness to life. The shame one shows you, the things one would never say out loud, intimately entrusted into your care cultivates deep connection. It opens eyes to a deeper sense of humanity, grace, and wisdom. To trust a confidant is to trust a foundation on which vulnerability and honesty create healing and build a sense of home only found in one another. This trust engrains memories of tears, pain, and laughter. It is a journey of a pair, documented, for all of time, special to the two of you.
Heartbroken, as I walked through the airport feeling depressed and lonely. Loneliness was something that was all to familiar with me, never felt as if I belonged or accepted. So here I am again leaving to go back home, fired from my job, relationship in the toilet.
Hymns of Faith
Part 1: The Concept of Love They say that the voice is the most powerful 'string' instrument to exist. The journey of human sound begins with a buzzing vibration in the vocal folds of the throat. The quality and the volume of the sound is modified by your lungs and trachea, producing a recognizable tone, and then that frequency is finally pushed out your mouth and off your tongue as one lovely syllable. This ongoing process of talking and singing creates a colorful spectrum of sounds, branching off into hundreds of different languages, and millions of original albums. The power of words have accumulated over centuries of using sound to communicate with one another. As humans evolved, so did their language, and words with astonishing power were created. These words were the same in many different languages, but they say the original language of humans had complete mastery over earth. No one knows the original language anymore - experts say it faded into history after dissenters sought to tip the scales of power over centuries ago.
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