Tuesday 24 April 2012

Short Stories


"You know what your problem is?"
"What?"
"You have no passion in life."
"What do you mean?"
"When was the last time you did something you truly loved?"
"Last night. You."
"I'm serious!"
"So am I, honey. I love you."
"You will never change."
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René stared at the Eiffel tower. He squinted his eyes, and everything was a blur. He opened his eyes, and everything was clear again. He didn't think he would ever see anything more beautiful.
"Is this seat taken?" she asked, her voice dripping with honey.
"No," he smiled, looking at the Eiffel tower again. No, nothing would ever be more beautiful.
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"All the wine. All the wine is all for me!" he staggered into the room. The front of his shirt was soiled with vomit, his shoes caked with mud. "Woman!" he hollered. "Come here, let me fuck you."
Shauna was in kitchen, slicing onions for the roast. Robert loved roast.
"Woman!" he hollered again, stumbling into the kitchen.
"Hi Robert," Shauna smiled, her knife firmly in hand.
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"I don't think I will never love again."
I say that to myself a lot. Not since Jasmine have I ever felt a need to love someone. Sure, she left me, she dated another guy. I think she may not even remember me anymore. I have forgotten her too, her memory slowly fades away into some part of my existence that I don't like to think about. I'd like to think she's gone away completely. I still keep her severed head with me, though. It gives me company.
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"I like you."
"I'm into S&M."
"Whip me."