Heaven and Hell Circumstances"Well, how are things in Heaven?" Luke asked, idly shaking the can of his Pepsi. He watched as two children kicked a soccer ball back and forth. They seemed to be brothers, Luke thought, and their close semblance was what made him think so.
"It's okay." Remy answered. He had a bar of unopened Milky Way in his hands. For the last two minutes, he only fiddled with it.
Luke perked a confused eyebrow. "Okay?" he asked, chugging the soda drink. "That means...what? Life-ending eternal boredom?"
"It's not boring!" Remy retorted snappily, startling Luke for his sudden outburst. Realizing his overacting reaction, he cleared his throat awkwardly. His fingers were on the rigged edge of the Milky Way wrapper, but he was yet to open it. "Sorry..." he muttered meekly. "It's just...well, job's being slow lately."
"Oh? On the contrary, my job's dragging me like shit." Luke rolled his eyes. Thinking about his job already made a terrible headache for his cerebral cells. He crossed his legs as he amusedl
CharcoalThe fifteen year old stared out at the dribbles of water sliding down through the glass of her window, making an impression as if the window was weeping with the sky. It had been raining for the last three days and they were almost nonstop. Even when they did stop it only lasted for one or two hours before it poured again. In some place where the drainage suffered a terrible case of trash blockage, the roads and houses were flooded up to one meter and thirty centimeters.
Jill Anderson's school was entrapped and incarcerated by flood yesterday, Wednesday, March 19th. It was a blessing for the red shoulder length-haired teenager for many reasons.
1) No more nosy, arrogant, jealous celebrity-wannabes seniors that kept bugging and mocking her for her unintentionally growing big chest.
2) No more perverts (of both orientations and of any professions) that kept trying to at least 'brush' her breasts with any of their body parts.
3) No more PE in which she is constantly ogled or drooled or gl
I Think I Enjoyed the Party???I think I enjoyed the party?
Well, I don't know. Don't blame me if I have no certain reason. You know me: I'm always unsure.
I have to admit that it was fun. It was a good idea to throw a party in your big house, complete with swimming pool and full sound system.
They were all perfect!
But what is it again that gives the party a minus ?
Give me a minute, I need to think.
Was it because of the guys kept giving me a wedgie?
Was it because the girls kept pouring the punch over my head?
Was it because I carameldansen with your loony sister in the middle of the dance floor with your boxers on my head?
Was it because YOU, who are a straight male as much as I am, suddenly smashed your lips on MINE?
Ew now that was disgusting, but you really did it. If I was a gay, I would gladly accept and kiss you back. I would even French you. But unfortunately I am not.
You ask me why you kissed me? Well, because you're drunk! That si
An Offer You Can't RefuseHugo ogled at the ochre paper folder thrown carelessly at the dining table in front of him. He looked up.
"Uh what's this?" he asked. Carefully, as if the folder was a snake that was just playing dead, he poked the folder with one finger. Once he was sure that the folder was not something mutated, he picked it up but not opening it yet. His aquamarine eyes rolled upwards, coyly glancing at a dark-skinned man with suit and sunglasses. His long hair was neatly combed back and tied into a tiny ponytail. He looked at himself; he was in nothing but a red and yellow boxers and basketball jersey. His short brown hair was greasy and unruly. A quick rush hour of red blood cells occurred underneath the skin of his face.
"Open it." the man in suit said. His voice was deep like the trench under the sea where sperm whales had their hunt on colossal squids.
Hugo gulped and broke the seal of the folder. As he had expected, there was a few sheets of documents inside it. There was a picture o
Cry No More
I hear them clearly.
Speaking words of
They hug me tightly
Even too tight
The carbon dioxide decides to leave my body wholly
As my diaphragm compressed
This is my day
Why do they talk about it?
This is my sadness
Why do they cry?
The sun retires.
I'm still suffocating
Under other octopus arms
That constantly coming
I isolate myself
Inside my Zen of seclusion
Cotton and fabric are my only friends
As my mind proceeds to lock away the tears
They are still crying,
I've done it thirteen hours ago.
The mask of tragedy still sticks to their visage,
Me, the mask of comedy has returned.
I don't need to cry too long.
He will not accept it, anyway.
But the sadness of lost will linger in my heart.
And although forever
I don't need to show it the way Shakespeare did
I have to keep it to myself
And smile once more.