The only one’s not governed by their rules are the dead. Running the streets with an iron fist
Ruthless, swift, their justice prevails. I won’t tell you who they are I fear my safety.
how I miss high school. Ruled by the kids who were perceived to be cool.
The sun set, turning the lowest clouds a marvelous pink and orange tinge.
The sea lapped the shore lazily, bubbling over the sand and shells.
Seagulls cried in the distance, and a breeze pulled at my loose shirt.
I loved it here, so tranquil.
Christmas-eve on a Thai beach. Peaceful.
“I thought you loved me!” she screamed, but already I was out the door and across the garden.
The looks the neighbours gave made me realise I hadn’t put my pants back on, but it was okay.
It was a little unlikely that I would come back in a while.
In the microwave, the balding hermit watched the words appear on his ‘Happy-Meal’:
“One Meal to rule them all, One Meal to find them,
One Meal to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.”
That was when he decided to stop eating fast-food, it was all too complicated.
The monster looked very upset as the villagers cried out,
“Be gone, foul beast!”
Even in the torchlight, they could see its eyes fill with water, and over the howling dogs they heard it sob.
It turned and fled into the darkness.
And so they learnt, even monsters have feelings.
The prince carefully pushed the shoe over her foot, and sat back, satisfied, when it fitted perfectly.
“You! You must be the one I danced with!”
She tried to control herself, but burst out laughing.
“I don’t dance.”
“But how? The shoe…”
“Maybe look at your partner next time.”
Her eyes flickered open, and she smiled warmly.
“Morning,” I replied, pulling her closer.
“Want something to eat?”
I shook my head.
She was silent for a while, then said,
“I’m Jill by the way..”
“Nice to meet you.”
I could have said so many things.
“I love you.”
But I never got the chance.
She was gone before I could think of what to say.
Now I sit and stare at all that’s left, a column of stone.
All I can say,
“Rest in peace.”
He had dreamed of being the best. The best rider, the best shot. The best at everything.
The best at being a cowboy.
But he wasn’t the best, he wasn’t even good.
The rodeo ended quickly, with a little crunch.
Though, it was the best crunch anyone had ever heard.
The red hood lay on the floor, a little scuffed and dirty, as if there had been a struggle.
The blonde was no where to be seen, her picnic basket tossed on its side, the snacks spilt everywhere.
A pity that the woodsman was away, visiting his aunt.