Homer Homer is a fourteen-year-old mutt that we got at the Animal Rescue League twelve years ago. He is not the brightest bulb on the tree‚ but he is personality plus and part of the family. He’s also a pain in the butt‚ especially over the last couple of years. . . . He has a geriatric tendency to empty his bowels in the living room. He likes to wander off whenever he can—well‚ this is not a new habit‚ actually. He likes to lunch from our neighbour’s garbage—also nothing new. And lately he’s forgetful
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The only sounds he heard were the hypnotic ticking of the clock‚ the occasional chiming of the bell the hung above the door‚ and the falling rain. Due to the late hour‚ it was not difficult for him to find a table. There were only a few patrons‚ besides himself. One he recognized as the homeless woman‚ who often made one of the booths in the back corner‚ her bed for such a night. While listening to the rain drops gently pattering against the coffee shop window‚ his thoughts drifted back to her
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It’s been seventeen years since most of humanity was wiped out. The people that survived are hardened and cooled. Sometimes I wonder if living people are worse than the infected ones. I don’t know how long I have I am in pain but that’s the last thing on my mind. two weeks ago I went into a store to get what little i coled find. I heard infected inside but I had a UV light and these things burn in sunlight. UV lights work but mine was low on batteries and could give out but i didn’t see any infected
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The drive from Tuscon was a long and miserable drive. It had just rained the night prior so the air was hot and muggy. The sweat clung on to you like glue‚ and was impossable to peal off. The only thing holding my sanity together is the book I brought with me‚ Weathering Heights. Otheirwise I would have jumped out of the car an hour ago. Right now I can imagine my two friends Stefanie and Alex sitting in their bedrooms under the artic blast of their aircondetioner. Oh how I wish I was within the
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She was the daughter of the richest man in the city of Roxbury‚Maryland. She was the captain of the varsity volleyball team of Almyra High. She was the to-be valedictorian for the class of 2015. She was beautiful with her sun-kissed blonde hair‚ emerald green eyes that shined‚ and skin like peaches and cream. She was the queen bee of school reigning supreme among her peers. Wherever she went people flocked to her like a bear mesmerized by a golden‚ dripping beehive of tantalizing honey .Girls envied
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“ 2 more days until New Year’s Gilbert” Blanca said. Last year Blanca stayed up until midnight and she had hoped things would get better but when she told her parents they had said “Oh seguro que lo hiciste .” Her dad never even fueled his promise! So this year she would use whatever it took even video cameras or her neighbor Gilbert and his family and friends who live across the road. When Blanca got home she had a big grin on her face because of her new and brilliant plan. “ Go to bed Blanca”
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The fields were cleared‚ and the mules were working hard now to clear the fields for planting. It was almost noon‚ time to eat. They were tired‚ and they wanted there nosebags‚ filled with sweet‚ crunchy grain and oats. Almost time now. They were at the end of the row‚ and next to it‚ the chain tree. The chain tree was welcomed to the mules‚ as it meant they would get a rest. They would be chained up to it‚ eat‚ and rest for a few hours‚ and then go back to work‚ just as rested as the moment they
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Tired eyes could not contemplate the barren surroundings. They blinked once. Twice. Three times. And still‚ the gray walls did not metamorphose into the equally unfamiliar golden blades of grass. Memories dotted her consciousness. Rough hands‚ heaving her on cold tables. Sharp pricks of pain embedding themselves in her legs‚ her sides‚ and her soft belly. All at once‚ something brought the lumbering wolf to her unsteady paws with a start. The voices flooded her ears‚ blanketing all of her senses
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“ You piece of sh*t” Was the first thing I heard as I entered Lemon’s Diner snatching a black waist apron from the makeshift hook which was basically a nail. Everyone in the diner turned‚ looking at the rather recent and ongoing incident happening at Table 10. I glanced at the girl‚ who was fuming with rage‚ as she screamed all the cuss words you could possible think of to the boy sitting in front of her. He trembled with fear‚ while simultaneously quietly whispering for her to “calm down”. Which
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Someone screams. Jay turns‚ following his wife’s eyes behind him to the front door across the diner. Three men in wet ski masks and camo hunting gear stand holding guns‚ their barrels dripping rain. “Phones‚ wallets‚ whatever‚” the man in the orange mask says. “Put all that shit on the table.” Turning back to his wife‚ Jay raises his hands‚ fingers spread just above the table‚ and looks in his wife’s eyes. “Syl‚” he says‚ his voice a pointed whisper. “Syl.” Her eyes float slowly from the gunmen
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