As the smoke billowed and ashes rose, I found myself choking. Only, the fires weren't the source.
My sobs were.
"They don't love you," he had whispered softly into my ear. "I do. Let me free you from their manipulations."
The fires I lit for the real manipulator consumed everything.
Moving methodically, speaking melodically, her warm gaze searched his malachite eyes.
Her smile was hypnotic. Her giggle was enchanting.
Each little quirk struck a new chord.
Though he tried with all his might to deny, it didn't take him very long to discover she was already dancing upon his heart...
She opened her eyes, feeling the weight of a thousand vanquished dreams collapse upon her breast. Everything she ever wanted was shattered. Where could she go from here? She struggled to catch her breath, struggled to stand. But stand she did. Weakly, trembling, she set forth to realize new aspirations.
He sat, his slender fingers resting on the piano keys. He began to play. His fingers struck the keys with confidence, but the music was painfully jarring. What was wrong with it? Wait! He played through it once more, switching two notes. Ah, now it was perfection! He was satisfied.
Is it not the destiny of every sprout to defy its roots and reach towards the sky?
The sapling grew tall and proud until the sky threatened to uproot it by its very branches. Thus the sapling wept growing up, afraid of becoming torn from its roots. Bent under its own weight, grown wizened and wise, to this day the Weeping Willow still reaches towards Mother Earth.
RICH MATHEW MANIAC
When Max Merrick lost a briefcase possessing a million dollar cheque for his boss, the young man decided to advertise his loss to the world. Unfortunately for him, Mathew Maniac had already cashed the cheque out and was on his way to Miami to spent every last penny of it.
Boots click on tiled stone, their cacophony of sound dramatically dropping decibels with every explosive bang that echoes through the hall. A sharp smile grows wider, impossibly so, as suits falls with pulls of a trigger, sleek strides propelling them closer - a door, a final release, a freedom won.
I got up shakily. Somehow, I had survived the hit unharmed. I stumbled away from the scene to collect myself, then I risked a glance. I saw a hastily stopped car, engine still running, and people kneeling over a limp form. I recognized the ruined face. It was my own.
The Late Fee
The rope that bound him absorbed Sam’s blood with every attempt to break free. He hadn’t met his captor yet, but was certain he knew why he was here. If correct, his wrists wouldn’t be the last things spilling blood.
The debt collector entered. A butcher’s apron around his neck.
I had no idea how peaceful the sky could be, but here I was:
Quickly dropping to the ground, death looming closer every second.
All I could do was smile as the wind caressed my drugged body back into a comfortable state. The only thing waiting for me?