A barren and merciless landscape stretched out ahead, as we kept trudging on until our mouths were parched.
We had to find water, and fast, or we wouldn’t make it out of there alive.
“Why don’t we buy water in that shop”, somebody begged, but we didn’t have any money.
Connell wrote this to comment on something or other, but lost the plot along the way… Or maybe, just maybe, he found it.
We waited silently in the dark. I stilled myself to the mood so it wouldn’t be broken. The moment of expectation drew close, and tension hung like bar smoke. Others fidgeted, rustled, imagined.
You slipped into the room unannounced.
We sprang from cover. “Surprise!”
You were naked.
It was awkward.
Gordon Lysen resides in Manitoba, Canada, and spends his time between the city of Winnipeg and his true home at Sugar Point on Lake Manitoba. Retired from police work after some 27 years, Gordon co-authored the novel “A Deadly Blend of Souls” with his wife, Lisa. Writing and painting are Gordon’s relaxation methods when retirement becomes too stressful.
I approached the director from behind, apprehensively. I had ruined his play, injured one actor, and sent the crowd screaming from the theatre and the flames.
He sensed my approach and turned, his face a melting wax figure of tears and rage. “Son, he said, hands shaking, “that’s strike two.”
Jamie Murphy works for the Toronto Public Library.
On his twentieth anniversary, Michael got a room at the Hilton where they cavorted for three hours.
At five, he said, “Time to go. I’ve got to pick up flowers for my wife.”
He wouldn’t need the flowers. When he left room 154, he ran into her exiting room 151.
Harry Demarest has retired after careers encompassing scientific research, teaching at a university, software development, web application development, and voter database compilation and distribution. He is now spending his time with his grandchildren and writing memoirs and short stories.
What had been planet Yardinvert was now a cluster of brown bits. Bulging eyes encircled Lord Lapso. He was relieved his black hood obscured his gawk.
“You’ll die for this!” exclaimed one hostage.
The dark lord sighed. Note to self: keep some distance between the finger and button when bluffing.
Joey wasn’t interested in writing while at school but has been writing on his own in recent years. He doesn’t really care that Alderaan was peaceful nor how many Bothans died to bring you this story. Cos he’s a jerk, that’s why.