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Old 11-12-2007, 05:37 PM   #46
hope dope
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She stared down into the amber liquid, resting against the side of the vat. It was still, serene even; she watched the way the light caught on it and skipped away and noted each visual detail with an artistís eye. Her ribcage, pressed up against the containerís rim, grew sore and she shifted to rest her weight on her waist.
She waited. She watched. Finally, when she was starting to think of going, the object under the water spasmed and brought its fingertips above the surface. She reached out, pushed her husbandís hand back into the still, turned, and walked away.

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Old 11-13-2007, 01:41 AM   #47
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Legend has it that there used to be a time when we did not know if there was life after death. Now we know. There is no life and no death. All is and nothing is not. Conscience is an immutable property of all that is. We suspect that the entire universe is now so dense and unstable that it will collapse back in to singularity. But just before that, all consciousness will coalesce and understand that there is no beginning and no end. Finally we have been reunited in this husk of a once vast universe. Finally, the inevitable.

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Old 11-13-2007, 01:39 PM   #48
Angry Kid Hoyt
How long was I asleep?
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Location: In a bright yellow house next to the cemetery
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When we talk it becomes awkward and the silence returns.
The awkward silence…
What is there to say, really?
I want to ask you if you feel as weird about it as I do.
The whole situation seems like a really bad comedy skit.
It is pretty funny if you think about it, right?
Both kinds of funny…
The kind that makes you chuckle to yourself and shake your head…
And the other kind that makes you shake your head and go “well, hmmm, when did I get that pierced??”
I guess its good that you’re leaving for London tonight.

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Old 11-25-2007, 01:47 PM   #49
meretricious dilettante
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He was very scared but they didnít seem to understand that and kept frowning at him. It was probably because he had been friendly to their friendly and they thought he wouldnít be scared after that, but he was scared all the time, it was a fact of him like having brown hair that stuck up in the back. If he stuck to his mother like his hand and hers had sticky tack on them like they used to hang up drawings, he was less scared. But they said she had to go and leave him there. NO! He screamed.

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Because how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. -- Annie Dillard
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