Luck O' The Irish_Getting By_Describe in Detail, Please_Caterpillar
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Luck O' The Irish
CW: Language, Violence “If yer Irish, ain’t ya supposed t’ be lucky?” “Oh wow, I’d ne’er thought o’ that. Aren’t ya supposed t’ be the smart one?” “Now now. No need fer the ‘ostility. I was just makin’ a point.” “What’s yer name, if you’ll allow me to ask?” “Rowan. Rowan Mahony. It’s m’ name, but don’t ya be wearin’ it out. Only got the one.” “Ah. An Irish like m’self. M’ names Maja Hackett. Now what wer ya sayin’ about us Irish bein’ lucky? Cuz my luck o’meter is at www.onedoor.ccabout seventy percent.” the woman glances at her watch, a wisp of crimson hair waving loosely in on her forehead. “Whatcha mean,...
Getting By
I noticed something different today. Perhaps more unusual than different, I see this guy walking by here towards the river, always comin after this mangy looking dog goes by. Didn’t think much of it the first time, but like most things when something keeps happening you get the hint that you maybe should be paying attention. I like to sit on the porch and keep an eye on the street so as it don’t get any funny ideas, like pot holes and such. Not that they bother me much more than the taxes do. Don’t drive anymore. They said I was too feeble to be allowed the opportunity to kill someone accide...
Describe in Detail, Please
“Can you describe what you were wearing that night?”The words echoed in the chamber a moment, followed by a few exasperated sighs from the prosecution’s side. Was there a more antiquated question? Surely the defense was knowledgeable enough to predict the onslaught of accusations that would follow this question. Or perhaps the defense was more deft than initially thought to be. Perhaps there was something else they were trying to prove by asking the question. At least that’s what Adam thought, pondering what traditionally male clothes could provoke an assault anyhow. Were dark wash jeans more ...
Caterpillar
Jeremy found the caterpillar one summer evening when he was foraging in the old tumble-down house at the edge of the town. It was said that a crazy old man had lived there, but he was long gone. All the local kids knew how easy it was to get into the grounds, as there were several parts of the surrounding wall that had collapsed, allowing access to the now overgrown gardens. Jeremy had been trying to free an old grass roller, rusted and trapped by tendrils of weeds, when he had heard the other boys coming. One of the voices made him shudder with recognition. Quickly he had pushed his way into ...