With his belly full and his bladder empty, he sits there in the blanket nest I meticulously crafted for him in the center of my bed, smug as I leave for work. Surely he was napping even before I made to the car.
I was so intent on staring at Tina Miller, with her blond hair and cheerleader body, that I failed to notice the open locker and I was knocked to the floor.
A mousy girl helped me pick up my books and took me to the nurse to treat the gash on my forehead, and that was how I met your mom.
I feel my teeth try to bite the wall while i silently scream.
I love her.
Ok, I said we should take a raincheck.
I didn’t mean for us to have this ten-year drought!
Is it possible that what it meant to me will just be a memory?
Nah, I’ll always love you little rocking horse.
She was barely seventeen and had seen more pain than most. But when he looked into her eyes, all he saw there was gratitude.
He came dangerously close to destroying his world by continuously rebuilding it around hers. But in the blindness of devotion and obsession, the blindness of love, he could not see the falling night of his sanity and freedom.
As his lips traced the softness of her neck, he whispered to her kindred soul, a fire was lit. Such incandescence, the winter cold had no hope, the wind was useless, outlasted by a simple love, a love so speechless.
In the year he turned twenty-four he fell in love with four women.
He married the third.
I have wronged every person that I have ever known and she is the only one of them that stood by me. I’m looking into the eyes of my last believer.
It has been said that the only time when a man doesn’t have a pair of eyes watching over him is when he is making love to his lawfully wedded wife. Only then, the good book said, our guardian angel and the devil turn their heads the other way and only then is a man completely free and alone in the universe; in other words freedom does not exist.
Do you dream of me?
I dream of you.
With eyes closed, languidly resting against the chaise, anticipating her companion’s next move; she hoped for something sweet, whispered flirtations, invitations for a rendezvous or four, and the indirect promise of a romance.
With eyes open, lids heavy, body leaning against hers, showering sweet kisses along her neck, and across her jawline, he hoped that his camouflaged words of sensual promise also conveyed to her the promise of more to come; a future.
Later I realised I could have read out fortune cookies and you still would have thought we were having a conversation.
Looking forward to the next date!
You were not my Sun or my Earth.
You weren’t even my Saturn.
It’s utterly amazing how powerful just a few words can be; how they can stir crowds, wound or heal wounds, bring people to action, bring people to their knees, keep someone awake at night or allow someone to sleep, change people’s lives, and cause people to literally change the course of their own lives.
By speaking only a few words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal” – “…that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom , and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” – “…the only thing we have to fear is fear itself” – “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country” – “I have a dream!” – “Yes, we can!” – leaders have changed nations; however, the most powerful phrase in the world – not only in the English language, but in every languge, is still, and always will be – “I love you” – because those three words can change a soul.
My wife is made of folded paper.
I love her creases.
In therapy, my husband shared that he’s been having the same dream every night for a year, of a beautiful stranger who tells him she loves him, and bakes delicious cupcakes.
I met the real her at the local bakery today and we’re going away together this weekend; he’s going to be so pissed.
I went to the well and wished for true love.
Then I saw a guy in this awesome rocket-powered time machine with mega lasers and I think I wasted my wish.
All Naku writes are lamentations because she can’t cry, so she lets her characters do it for her.
She wishes her characters could tell her it’s all right.