C’mon man. You’ve waited your whole life for this. All the work. All the sweat and sacrifices. All for that trophy. Breathe. Don’t swing at the first pitch. Watch for the release point, pick up the spin, and see what kind of heat this guy brings.
I almost killed him. And I could have done it. I’ve got a hundr… sixty pounds on the little twerp. His big blue eyes were locked onto me until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“What are you looking at Thane?”
His little smile was the kind of evil that is so far from good it doesn’t even know that it’s evil.
“Mrs. Owens, your arms jiggle like the Jell-O mom makes for Halloween. I like Jell-O!”
What would the sentence be for killing a five year old? Life in prison certainly, but would they give me the chair? When I pictured the jury filled with women in their thirties I almost convinced myself I could get away with it. But then I remembered that it wasn’t him I wanted to kill. (more…)
Every year I get two’s and sometimes three’s of requests to bring back a particular character from a past story and this year is no different. If you would like to read the original story from which this character originated, you can find it here. Enjoy.
Most September evenings, when the heat of the day had been swept aside by the cool breeze rolling in from the mountains and more often than not the Cubs had thrown away a lead in last few innings, I would often meander out to my third floor balcony to watch the world from above. It was on one such night that my imaginary walls of safety were demolished, exposing me to the true danger of the world in which we live. But more importantly, it was the night I had the best snickerdoodle I have ever tasted.
Thinking back, I cannot remember a single detail that would have hinted that the night ahead of me should be any different from the 9,524 nights that had passed before it. Shortly after the last tendrils of sunlight released their grip on the city, an Eastern wind announced its arrival through the branches of a large birch that scraped against the side of my apartment. My sliding glass door shifted and knocked against its track as if to confirm the wind’s entrance into the city. With Chicago leading by four runs, a tiny flame of hope danced wildly inside me as if the breeze outside my windows had a secret passageway to my heart. Over the next hour I would witness the inevitable collapse of my team in 52 inches of glorious color and pain. (more…)
The long winter is gone and my heart is slowly returning to life. I am overwhelmed with excitement as our time together draws near. When we are apart, I am only a shell of man. I don’t want you to think that I have chosen you just because no one else would have me. I know what I want and it is you. I just hate that I will never be able to buy you a diamond bigger than the one you already have.
Some people may question our age difference, but their looks will only serve as a reminder that love is blind. I may be quite a bit younger, but I have a wise soul. And my soul could no more pick another than a fish could climb a tree. (more…)
There is an assumption among those who have suffered little that the anticipation of pain is worse than the pain itself. They are greatly mistaken. At 17 years old I should not know this. I knew so little of pain before tonight, but schoolmaster Auditore saw to it that I received a proper education on the subject.
It is rare to possess enough clarity to trace our choices back to the first step of the path we find ourselves traveling. Maybe this is a gift of the pain. Neither my blood stained sheets nor the smile I wear alone in the darkness of my room would exist were it not for the gardener’s gate.
Wind whipped at his suit as he stood on the edge. It was simple in theory. Just take a step and gravity would do the rest. But this was no longer theory. One step would mean either life or death. It just depended on the direction he would choose.
“Happy anniversary sir.”
His reflection in the window cast a transparent smile back to her as she set the tray of coffee down on his desk. A baseball passed from hand to hand as he watched the deep orange of the morning sun sneak up behind a curtain of high-rises. He stared at the city crawling to life from high above, the way a hawk watches for its next meal.