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From Ibere Romani
Big Stories in Two Little Sentences
If you command, she will obey.
Dating secret #6.
My deepest secret.
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I looked up at the sky and said,”It’s going to rain.” She said,”But there are no clouds in sight”. I smiled. She doesn’t know my secret,yet.
Dear diary,
I was thinking about sticking my pencil into the little button-hole eyes of my boss who thinks he’s a big shot, treating me like some insignificant clerk that files meaningless papers over 9 hours a day, 365 days a year for more than 20 years, while I am actually the secret daughter of the President of the United States! But then again, he’s just a poor guy who doesn’t know the truth so I’ll continue to work through the night as I don’t want anyone to discover my hidden identity.
The neighbors know my deepest, darkest secret. I am boring.
The author of this story knows the secret of life, a secret that he will soon share. But as he types it out, he thinks to himself “Damn, I wish I could have more space”.
I am “The Chameleon”; no I’m not some superhero who can change the colour of their skin to suit the environment nor am I that weird lizard-like creature which can do the same thing.
I am the spy who can blend in with a crowd and be seen but not seen, I am the person who can melt into walls and disappear; I am the person who can slip down dark alleys never to be seen again and this is why I have earned the name “The Chameleon”.
Yes we spent months hollowing out giant rocks and fitting them with tiny video screens.
Yes we’re preparing for something but it’s a secret.
Hey, want to know another secret?
It’s really hard to make new friends without drinking.
Once upon a time, there was a place called ever after that no one ever reached. In writing names and places, pain, joy, and distant faces, they tried in vain to show to others what their own eyes could not see.
You want to know another secret?
I went out with you just so I could see what huge double-D breasts were really like (they were ok).
Sitting awkwardly and gripping the tools, there is a moment of reverence before the act and a whispered prayer for fertility.
In an uncomfortable moment, she can’t help but wonder if people will be able to tell that the baby’s father was a turkey baster.