The buttoned-down ambiance of the conservatively dressed headmaster/headmistress mirrors the tight-fitting black blazers and gray slacks and red plaid skirts of the boys and girls filing past in the hallways of my old grammar school.
Powder
grey powder blows into my eyes
my face
I cant breathe
I run through the house
Begging everyone to give me air
They stare
They laugh
I fall
It's going dark
and dark
Ingredients:
At least 5 blankets
Warm fuzzy socks
Halloween themed pajamas
Your favorite stuffed animals
I glare across the counter from my spot nestled between the folds of the brown paper bag. Stupid Gala is doing that thing again, as she has every single day, for the past, I don’t know, week?
The Ferris Wheel of Doom (and other disasters)
The fair is usually fun.
Note: usually.
Author's Note: Hi everyone! My goal is to be posting these short stories every week(ish) over the summer for your entertainment, if you want a fun series of stories to keep you occupied - I know summer can be a bit boring, at least for me.
I’m at the front of the room.
“Hello, fellow boys!” I call to them.
“Hello, Jay!” they reply.
There’s this song that I know of,
that speaks to my heart, it speaks to everyone’s hearts
A holy song, played on the 21st night of September
Perhaps to alleviate, perhaps to gift
“Why?”
Well, why not answer “Why?”
The word why could have many answers, like:
“Welcome! Welcome to Heck’s Kitchen! I’m your host Jordon Samsey, here to share culinary adventures with you and spark new taste sensations! Today we have a guest!
How peaceful it is to glide around unannounced on flat pieces of plastic they call skis. Why plastic gives you a placid feeling inside is unknown.
You see, I’m a dead fish. My name is Robert III. You may be wondering, Who would name a fish? Well, all fish have names, thank you very much. Your next question might be, Wait, if you’re dead, how are you telling this story?