short-stories

He had to die someday too. He might do it on sheets with a six-hundred-plus thread count, but he'd die just the same. Death wouldn't forget about him.

Then why are you still here?_ I ask. I stand up and her gun follows me. I welcome its bullets just to see if I could survive.__asochism.___ don__ know what that means.___t means I like my own pain.___hat doesn__ make sense._____ human. You think we ever make sense?

Each day Marda gets closer. The sub circles coral reefs off the coasts, where mermaids are said to like the colors of the schools of fishes, and train them to swim around their necks like jewelry or live behind their ears, beneath their long hair. Sometimes mermaids like shallow places, but mostly they like the dark and the beautiful, uncharted, abandoned, soulless parts of the undiscovered world.

We should follow every supply that runs into the particular lake below, going upstream in terms of we can. When we do not find Drakes_ path, or even an additional, we should come back straight along,look yourself upward an additional way to obtain foods,and then do a similar for the next water for the south.

Our passing interrupted the road crossing, and the crowd bunched on both sides waited for us to go by as we all waited for the war to go by, thinking we can suspend or postpone living and not knowing that in war the heart grows older than it does in dreams

In high school, she__ been the loner fat girl and I__ been the asshole jock. There had always been something between us; we had gotten on so easily. I remember being both confused and upset that when I__ finally experienced that thing everyone called chemistry, it had been with her of all people.

I stared down at my hands and saw the blood coat them, how warm and real something felt when it wasn__ just ink and stains. This was life and I was holding it in my hands. I drew my eyes back up and beneath the flickering streetlight and the throng of drunken cattle, I saw nothing else but the dead girl. Somebody out there had taken her life, her heart, and there I was with her warm, sticky blood. Feeling the most alive I__ felt in years.I had to find him. I just had to.

He cupped her face and held her still, as he looked into her brown eyes; she was all flash and no bang. She talked big, but when it came down to it, she was a simple girl.

This was a great idea; he needed to go into tonight knowing that this was the last time he would ever be with Barry. He needed to savour it and enjoy it, to lock it tight in his memories, so that he would never forget how it felt to be with him.This would be his final goodbye.~ A Case of the Ex

He was getting undressed and it snapped something inside of him that had been drawing taut, ready to break for months.__'m hungry, Bruno,_ he said, in a soft voice, as he removed the shirt from his broad shoulders, revealing a perfect sight of smooth dark skin. __ can't wait for dinner,_ he continued, with a smile.When he put his hands to the fastening of his trousers, Bruno let out a sigh and put the take out menus on the counter. He couldn't look at him, because he knew Lyon was trying to seduce him on purpose. He didn't want to talk or hear him out or spend time with him that didn't end with an orgasm.__ can't do this anymore,_ Bruno confessed, quietly.

Chocolate makes everything better, in the end,_ he announced, and Thayer fully agreed.Thayer gave him a smile of gratitude and watched Castel lift his spoon from the saucer. He dipped it, gracefully, into his coffee and gave it a light stir.__oo many people rush to stir such delicate flavours. Take too long and they will clog together to become a lump of bitterness in your coffee. But take your time and be gentle with them,_ Castel explained, quietly, __nd they will create a symphony of flavours, to melt in your mouth,_ he said, leaning down, just until his nose was over his cup, to take a long inhale. He smiled and straightened, extracting the spoon to place it back on his saucer. __ow try it.__hayer took a sip and almost felt his toes curl at the luxurious taste.~ Cinnamon Kiss

Jaxton smiled and caught his hand, holding it tight in both of his. __re you burnt out? Is it all too much?_ he asked, getting straight to the root of the matter, in one go.__es,_ he sighed, hating that it was true.__hen you'll stay home.___ou know I can't. It's impossible,_ Roman complained about the unfairness of it all.He was due to return to the studio in two days times, to finalise the tracks he'd recorded yesterday. Then he had to sit down with Jalen next week, to pick out a new piece of his artwork for the next album cover. And two weeks after that, he had three interviews with three different music channels, to film.__ry telling that to Ben._ Jaxton winked at him, then ducked down to kiss him.~ From the Heart

Get your sticky fingers away from my cookies,_ Ben ordered, without turning his head, to see Jaxton trying to steal one from the cooking tray.__ou weren't saying that last night,_ Jaxton retaliated, coming up to Ben's side, to give him a nudge. They were both smiling, while looking down at the counter, where Ben was making his delicious rosemary cookies. __n fact, I seem to remember you grabbing my sticky fingers and putting them in your mouth,_ he teased, speaking quietly, so that Lyon wouldn't hear them at the other side of the room.Ben turned to Jaxton and abandoned his baking, to catch his face in flour covered hands and plant a deep kiss on his lips.Jaxton opened his mouth, in acceptance of his kiss.~ From the Heart

Later, as she drove the children to school, she thought how worn the grooves were along which they moved their quarrels. She could feel herself saying all the clichéd phrases of a thousand injured women before her, but she could never stop herself. - __he Negotiated Settlement

The father and daughter made their way north, through unknown sylvan paradises where only the owls and skunks know their way around. The hard work of paddling non-stop for many hours had long since stopped being difficult for Saweyimew. In spite of her beauty and grace, her back had grown strong and sinewy from years of canoe trips. She reveled in the exhilaration it always brought her, after the first few hours left her body insensible to pain or discomfort. Warm and tingly, lulled into peaceful contemplation by hours of the rhythmic paddling, the smell of the water, exotic blooms, animal musk. It all combined as one to make her feel so alive. Especially when it rained, and her body steamed against the cool drops, feeling invincible against the elements. The mountain of her father's back was like a rock against anything nature could throw against them. The stream of fragrant pipe-smoke still flowing from his lips, regardless of any obstacle. She felt at that moment, nothing would ever stop her father's pipe from smoking. Nothing, not death, not any force of the living or spirit world, would ever still her father's heart. Rain cleansing her to the core, she was a spring of raw power and self-reliance, paddling against all adversity--their master completely. Her father's daughter. At times like that, when it rained, she entirely understood and shared her father's outlook on life.

That was 1993 grunge in suburbia. This was 2003 hell in Harlem. (Dark City Lights)

History is finite-there's only so much you can learn about a six square block historic district in New York City. (Dark City Lights)

WORSHIP IS ACTION.Worship is not lazy, boring and sad.Worship is zealous, famous and joyful.Psalm 66:1-2Shout joyfully to God, all the earth; Sing the glory of His name; Make His praise glorious.1 Corinthians 6:20For you have been bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body.Psalm 107:32Let them extol Him also in the congregation of the people, And praise Him at the seat of the elders.