Four days. It only took four days. The thick iron walls had inexplicably materialized around the city on a Tuesday morning, and by Saturday afternoon, the fragile sheen of civility and order had evaporated.
#65
The escalator had gone out earlier in the day and the passengers, in a hurry to get to the surface, had tightly packed themselves into the single working elevator in a hot, smelly mass.
#64
“Goodbye,” she tried again. He didn’t turn. She rolled her suitcase out and shut the door. As she left, she thought she finally heard him say something. But no, it was just the TV.
#63
He stared at his reflection. It was hazy and half hidden by obscenities in the graffiti-scratched mirror. With trembling hands, he pulled the badge from his pocket and carefully pinned it to his shirt.
#62
Casey stopped chanting. So much for enlightenment. She stood and blew out the candles, wondering why she worked so hard to get in touch with her inner self. All she ever found was darkness.
#61
"I’m not an idiot, Lonnie. I can see what people think. Hell, I can narrate their whole goddamn thought process! It doesn’t take a genius to see I’m fighting a losing battle out there."
#60
The ooze began to pulsate, straining against the confines of the old grandfather clock that held it captive. With a sudden screech of rending metal, the clock disintegrated, ripped apart by the malevolence within.
#59
She caught a glimpse of him walking across her lawn and sighed. He was an incredible kisser, but his face was hidden under a thick layer of stubble. “Too bad I already exfoliated,” she thought.
#58
“Damn! This one’s persistent!” Lotta teased, as Cherry’s phone rang again. Without thinking, Cherry turned and chucked the phone as far as she could over the Thames, smiling as it slipped beneath the surface.
#57
“Did we used to look like that?” he mused, eyeing the freshly elected officials. “Probably,” she replied flatly. “But a few weeks of this congressional logjam should be enough to snuff out their ambitions.”
#56
Deep down, he knew it was the cancer that made her lash out. But even so, it was devastating to hear such bitter, angry cruelties hurled at him from lips he loved so much.
#55
She traced large, sensuous circles across his back. He moaned. She grinned. In a single fluid motion, she used one hand to pull him into a kiss, and the other to slit his throat.
#54
Norman spent a few minutes tidying his desk, finishing with a satisfied nod. Without a word, he stood, ripped his phone from the wall with a satisfying pop, and heaved it through the window.
#53
Eleanor Brown stood at the counter, furiously cutting an onion with aggressive, angry strokes. Every few seconds her eyes would flick toward the table where a dusty envelope sat tucked behind an overflowing ashtray.
#52
She sprinted toward the trees, shedding her clothes as she went. As she reached the forest’s edge, a tangle of branches burst like wings from the twin patches of green-brown skin between her shoulders.
#51
“I hope Ralston was right,” he thought, as he pushed a small button on his sleeve. Drawing a deep breath he froze, just as two sentry droids rolled into the room, their scanners humming.
#50
My memories, once razor-sharp,
lie scattered on the shore
like pale blue shards of glass.
Their crystal edges,
chipped and worn smooth by the endless scrape of years,
now flicker vaguely in the twilight.
#49
“War’s the only constant, son. Sometimes it starts on a battlefield, but for most men, it just rages on right here” the old man sighed, tapping my chest with the barrel of his gun.
#48
He sat there, smelling the stink of sweat, piss, and poverty wafting up from his soiled clothing, and found himself nodding in agreement with the disdainful looks of the other passengers on the bus.
#47
The morning clouds broke, giving way to a bright November sky. As the sun warmed her face, Annali frowned at her reflection in the glass barrier, surprised by how pale and fragile she’d become.