“You did what?!”
Celia was completely unfazed by Markus’ vociferation as she leaned against the wall, inspecting her nails while he continued to gape at her. “You said Zach was bothering you,” she answered simply. “So I gave him some of his own medicine. He will leave you alone now.”
“You mages can’t just go around hexing whoever you don’t like!” Markus exclaimed, gesturing wildly as he began what would most likely be a very long tirade. “There must be order in this establishment! Harmony!”
“I didn’t hex him.”
Today wasn’t going very well for Carmen.
For starters, the apartment was a mess. That wasn’t unusual because Carmen lived there, but when Carmen noticed the apartment was a mess, that meant the apartment was really a mess. Really, it looked like a tornado had torn through the kitchen. There was a tower of baking utensils in the sink, powdered sugar blanketed the counter, and Carmen was pretty sure chocolate was what was on the ceiling, though she wasn’t quite sure how it had gotten there.
Carmen had been awake for approximately seven minutes before her client called to request that their cake be del
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, but a homeless man, a migrant worker’s small child, and a stray god walk into a bar.
Alright alright, so it’s technically a pub, and that’s why there’s food instead of just booze. Jeeze, lettaguy tell a joke.
So, it’s like Thanksgiving or Christmas Eve or something, so the bar’s like totally empty, right? So the bartender looks ‘em up and down and asks “How old are you?” to each of ‘em.
“Old enough to be yer motherfuckin’ Dad!” says the homeless man.
“Old enough to work a fifty hour work week!” says the
"What are you eating?"
"Peanut butter pie," Keahi responds as though it is the most logical thing in the world. For her, it probably is.
Clayton makes a face. "I know you like peanut butter and all," he says, "but that's a little extreme."
From her place on the sofa, Keahi stares wordlessly at him, taking another bite.
"Why couldn't you just stick with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter?" Clayton continues. "Still gross, but not as disturbing. Peanut butter just doesn't belong in pie."
Mana doesn't bother to warn him. She's certain he knows by now what danger lies in provoking her sister, so she prepares herself to flee at any given
FFM - July 23, 2013 - Gene Hax: Late for Class by Roskvape, literature
Literature
FFM - July 23, 2013 - Gene Hax: Late for Class
Eris Kandake gave a squeal of dismay when she saw the silk-spider cage. Corner chewed off, the plastic box was empty, apart from a strand of web. All three spiders had vanished without a trace. That meant they were somewhere inside the house. Although they weren't poisonous, they were the size of tennis balls, hairy, scary, and a sickly white color.
Her landlady was going to kill her.
The spiders weren't the only thing missing. The chewed-up spider cage sat a few racks from the chewed-up wire cage with the gaping hole and the rodent skeletons rattling in the bottom. It was a crystal-clear indicator of what the rest of the house would look l
When you hit thirty or so, you start to realise that your life won’t amount to much. Barring catastrophe or the sudden discovery of a hitherto latent genius you’re unlikely to hit the headlines. That’s what women mean when they talk about biological clocks and feeling broody, and men when they talk about sowing oats and getting their feet under the table. It’s this urge to have achieved something. Copulation mainly. “My loins are fertile,” you wish to announce to the world, rather than, “I was third best fascia and soffit salesman in my area last month,” or, “I spent all weekend watch
I climb out my bedroom window, and in the dark, reach for the ladder that’s sometimes there and sometimes not. Tonight I find it, and even as I close my fingers around the nearest rung, I wonder (not for the first time) if tonight might finally be the night.
The wind blows hard, and my bare feet misstep and slip many times. I’ve been doing this for months, and I haven’t fallen yet.
I’ve never seen the ladder during the day, so I can’t say much about its colour, except that the shades are dark. Inside the ladder there are pricks of trapped light arranged in constellations I have never seen.
The ladder goes str
The house stands between two rivers, with a small grove of trees growing on one side of the island. In retrospect I can’t remember the exact string of decisions that led me to buy it. It’s just always been the place I was supposed to be. But money aside, it doesn’t belong to me, not really. It belongs to her.
The day I moved in there was a little white cat in the living room. There were no open windows, no doors left ajar. She was a mystery. She rubbed up against my ankles in the way that cats will, and retreated to perch on the mantelpiece and watch us haul in the furniture. At some point she disappeared. At the time I ass
"I can't do it. I'm not gonna make it. Let's turn back."
She moaned and dragged her feet. All around her, people jogged and walked, enjoying the race both competitively and casually. Her companion rolled his eyes.
"Come on, we've barely made it half a mile. Stop being so dramatic."
"I'm not being dramatic. I'm dying. There's absolutely nothing that can get me to run any more."
A couple of shouts sounded from behind them. They turned and saw a large truck advancing slowly. They moved to the side to let it pass.
As it moved in front of them, she noticed three things. One - the back was open, and inside held a group of young, attractive, sm
I always got my best book recommendations from my old library cart. Well, the library cart wasn't really mine. I was a shelver at my town's library, before I started college, and I would use their carts to do my job.
I first noticed something was up with the cart when I was shelving juvenile paperbacks. These were the lightest books we owned (and kept in the worst shape - kids are brats). But when I was rolling the cart, it was heavy. It groaned when I pushed it, and steering it was a mini-workout. It wasn't this hard to move a double-stack of adult non-fiction.
What was really odd, though, was as I removed more books, it barely got lighter