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"She was fu--" but a punch to the face shut him up. Laid him out on the pavement. Blood dripped out his nostril, and probably some out his head too.
"Don't talk 'bout my sistah," I said. Don't think he heard me, but that don't matter. Ain't much I could'a done about it.
‘One phone call… That is all it takes’, she thought. ‘One phone call and you are human again.’ Vulnerable and helpless, she let the phone fall on the sofa where she had been sitting until the phone rang to remind her that they were, after all, mortals.
It was carnival in Venice and everyone had on masks of demons. Two people dressed as demons, a man and a woman, met and decided to go home together. There the man took off his mask.
“Now you,” he said.
So the woman takes off her pants.
:brow:
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, you know?” a voice behind.
Turning, I saw an old woman, hair bunned, “Do I know you?”
She grinned, toothlessly, and spat into the road. “There!” - emphatically. Where her spittle landed was a key.
I left it where it was. She was too weird.
XC
She glanced in the mirror: Lipstick, hair, a deep breath and a smile. She opened the door and got out, pushed her shoulders back. As she locked the car’s door, she forbade her eyes to glance towards the back. Looking only ahead, she walked through the shards of glass, each step taunting: ‘Female driiiiiivvveeeeerrrr!’
“Did you?”
“Not yet.”
“But you will?”
“I will.”
“You’re sure?
“I said I will.”
“But will you really?”
“I will.”
“When will you?”
“When you stop asking stupid questions.”
….
….
….
….
….
“I stopped and you still haven’t.”
“That’s because you started again!”
“Please!”
“Oh shut up!”
XC
Doleful, don't you go! I rather like your gray wrapping round me today, a suit of soft muslin sighs borne from the lies of one who claimed to be true
(no, not you!).
Doleful, stay! It's cold and I'm scared (feelings need to be shared) ...
wrap warm round me today.
It's raining...
'Please buy one, Sir!', the little boy implores the man, trying to keep his newspapers dry.
'Go away!'
'Please, Sir!' the boy holds the man's shirt.
'Your hand dirties my shirt', the man shouts at the boy and throws his newspapers away. It keeps raining...
I’ve never known anyone with hair like hers. It is haphazard in a way that makes me want to take a comb to her head. At the same time, it is such a part of who she is that I wouldn’t change a strand.
Her parting is such sweet sorrow.
XC
In this little box of hers, she rarely takes the time to peer over the sides. When she does, invariably the box wilts from the weight and dumps her out on the cold, cold ground. Occasionally the sides are too high for her to scrabble back over; and she's stuck outside, cowering and shivering..
The woman gazed at the chubby baby in her pram. "Poor little bag of pudding, helpless and knowing nothing of the world" she thought as she straightened out her newspaper and looked over to see if the bus was coming."Poor ugly woman, all alone"cooed baby to her mama.
The truth is in here somewhere. Past all the bone, blood, flesh, tissue. Ah…. Here it is. Pulsating. End of debate. They said mother was heartless. This, here, proves them wrong.
How soft it is, like a little babe, cradled in my arms. Why did she never give me love?
"would you kindly show me the way to zero," asked the butterfly of the lily. but she was snoring and didn't answer, so he followed the Z's up the morning mist and saw where they broke into dreams, then slid down their spiral into the beginning of all endings.
No one was on the road that night as she drove into the snowstorm feeling like she was in a Star Trek episode and the Enterprise was traveling at warp speed, so that when she broke on through to the other side she didn't need to worry about parking spaces.
Goz rapt rownd the werld (sad plase!), and all on it cudent se rit.
Someone said: "Peel it! Lift it!"
All the hands razd hi, pooshd hard, an pokd hols into heven.
"Now wut?" thay askd.
Someone sighed.