I need you to be my mountain, sunshine;
for emotion to try and conquer you, only to perish in the permafrost.
Big Stories in Two Little Sentences
I need you to be my mountain, sunshine;
for emotion to try and conquer you, only to perish in the permafrost.
I loved him. He loved men.
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Margaret waited for Bill for 10 years. He didn’t notice.
Her whole family safely escaped the burning house. For now.
She pulled the trigger over and over while shouting every swear word she knew at the Garrity boys.
Barbara ran out of targets before she ran out of bullets and the pistol fell eerily silent in her trembling hands.
“Can you read my mind?” she thought tentatively with a chill running down her spine. “Yes.” he said cooly turning to face her.
“You can’t do it, Mark,” I cry over the sound of the huge engines, “why would you kill them all over one person?”
“Because,” he looks up, tears in his furious eyes and growls, “I hate you,” he pulls the switch.
I look out the window and see Earth. What’s left of it, anyway.
That’s why you love her. Because she doesn’t love you back.
I have lots of friends,But I am feeling myself lonely.
I want to share every thing,But I have to make some new friends.
When I think of you I miss you. When I’m with you, I miss myself.
I scored the most in the scrabble game that I played with my student during an English tutorial with the word VIXEN. After putting the the tiles on the board and proving to him that a word like this existed with a dictionary, he said, “is it because you are one big fat vixen that you know the word?”
I’m coming to visit you up there buddy. Please open the door.
I admire you for knowing when to walk away. But I despise you for actually doing so.
They drop you off on the island and give you a gun with one bullet. One more day, I keep telling myself, but another day on saltwater and seaweed and I might not even know what a gun is.
There are some ideas that should stop at the stage called “That might be funny.” On the bright side, my health insurance is really friendly, the junkyard paid us a couple hundred bucks, and we found an exotic shelter that was willing to take the sugar glider.
I dourly gave my Rhesus some pieces of overripe banana. He flinched, at first.
My life was ruined by a series of mistakes made and attributable only to me.
Now, I feel like a cut flower in a vase, patiently waiting to die.