'Wishing For...?'_The Girl From The Sea_Flickering Lights_It's Not Up To You
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'Wishing For...?'
“Oh,” Rudi sighed, wondering if she should clear the leftovers from breakfast crowding the kitchen sink or deal with the junk she’d retrieved from the loft now piled high on her kitchen table. She’d promised to give something to the Church jumble sale and she hadn’t sorted out anything yet... There was that headache again ! The one she got from eating too much chocolate the night before. Or was it more the fact she had a decision to make ? Tossing a coin would have solved it but yes…That would mean having to make another decision.Instead, she partook in her favorite activity; acknowledging def...
The Girl From The Sea
We pull her out of the sea as soon as we find her. She looks like she was about to go under. I stare at her as one of the crew members pulls her aboard. They bring her below deck and lay her down in one of the extra beds. The nurse sat in the bed next to her. After a little bit, the nurse shooed me out.I came back the next day. She was sleeping and shivering in her bed. The nurse had left. I threw a blanket over her. She calmed down a little bit. I left to go eat lunch and she was awake when I came back. "Hi." "Hi... where am I?" "You're on the Borealis. We rescued you from the ocean." "oh......
Flickering Lights
First Name: AngelinaLast Name: MaySpecialty: Electricity Manipulation--Still untrainedAge: 16Power. It courses through my veins, tickles my skin.My knee bounces up and down of its own accord and I let it, licking my lips. The red hands of the old-fashioned clock in the corner seem to move in slow motion, every second taking an eternity to pass. I tap the flesh of my finger against the chair I’m sitting in, gritting my teeth together. An old woman sitting in the corner snores, handbag at her lap nearly falling. I could take it. If I wanted to. I don’t though.The woman at the desk yawns, throwin...
It's Not Up To You
Our most regrettable moments come at rather unpredictable times, either when in the living room, eyes and lights all ablaze, tongues roaring and mouths spitting out whatever the fire burning in their brain feeds them, or in the little corner between strings of honeysuckle and sweet maple, when the sky presses down on you with humid hands as you blither out whatever little love confession you were holding in for the past month. Afterwards we may pound our heads against the wall or scream out some cries ofwww.onedoor.cc indignation and exasperation, wishing and begging to only go back a few minutes, a few hou...