A few days later, Gia and Sophia were sitting at their usual spot in the mall’s food court. There was something about going to the mall that these two girls loved. It always seemed abandoned because the younger generation—their generation—was shopping for everything from home. The internet had taken over the shopping industry from clothes to groceries, so there was a certain peacefulness in the mall. The mall cop sauntered by, not noticing the girls.

Gia stared at the cylinder in her hand. "Do you need help picking out a shade?" The make-up associate startled her.

This is how we play the game: pink means kissing; red means tongue. Green means up your shirt; blue means down his pants. Purple means in your mouth. Black means all the way.

It was beautiful outside. The first sunny day all week, and the first time I went out all week as well. With every stride I felt this certain energy in the air. You know the feeling.

Mel’s dirt brown hair lashed at her face faster than the harsh tears poured from her eyes. Like Mel, the wind was angry it seemed. Mel had a fleeting thought that maybe the wind was mad at its boyfriend too. Perhaps the wind’s boyfriend was just as psychotic as hers. Mel almost laughed at the thought as she stumbled out of the rundown Mississippi bar, but fury was still raging like fire through her veins.

Recently someone posted on Medium that after five or six years of marriage the couple found they were no longer happy, that something was missing in their relationship. They talked it over and they came to the conclusion that what was missing … was other people. More specifically, they wanted to sleep with other people, lots of other people. So they decided on an open marriage. The woman further stated that they always practiced safe sex.

Opening

(Warnings: references to an abusive father, accidental death, and manipulation)

Bless you! No, I meant ACHOO (Autosomal Dominant Compelling Helioopthalmic Outburst). That's a thing? Apparently yes and I only know this because I have been scouring through journals and research on observable human characteristics vs. all things that you could inherit through your genealogy, and it's quite the list. There's some pretty interesting stuff on there, but none of what I was specifically crossing my fingers for. So why was I scouring through what surely cannot be considered light bedtime reading you might ask? Well, it's simple, two reasons-I hate being wrong and I love to argue my point. On this particular occasion though, in trying to prove my argument, I discovered that I was full of (insert expletive of your choice).

so, this is the first character i want to introduce you all too. paris is her name. she's a preachers daughter and a twin. she lives a glorious, care free life. she's a wild little thing, but i love her and this is only the beginning.

It was magic that was soon to turn to horror, but why? The magic was intense, captivating. An energetic uplifting longing of happiness itself that meant life was grand. She was strong and beautiful and now, important to someone. Someone really loved her. Her. It was the life she had waited for, deserved. The feeling of being number one to someone special, someone charming and intelligent. Someone who mirrored her deepest desires and most treasured beliefs. Someone who understood her, and told her she made him a better man. She was so good for him. Ahh, the carnival.