Ava looked over at Professor Putnik who was zoned out, her white hair a mess, and Ava thought about Lithium, the world underground and right under their noses. And she thought about the guy who she had been afraid to let in her thoughts for even a second. What was it about them all? What were they into? What were they apart of?
It was unordinary and tantalizing; she could understand why the Professor would find this world uninteresting after being apart of that. Unordinary, for her though, was a neighborhood away from madness, and she had been trying to build a brick wall away from those alleyways.
After awhile, the speakers and the subjects all blurred together, and she was fighting to keep her eyes open. She had caught Dahlila laughing one of the times but ignored her. Most people played on their phones; she sketched. But her eyes continued to get heavier and heavier, anyway.
She was looking at a clock on the wall, above the back door, behind the lecturer. The whole time she had been sketching it, it was quiet, the hands didn’t move; it was broken — Until suddenly and swiftly, the hand lowered: Tick — and then it ticked again and it continued ticking — its arms bending to show its crookedness, its true face, distorted, ticking loud, and striking everything else into background noise. Then there was no noise.
Ava looked around uncomfortably to see everyone moving in slow motion, cretinous functioning. Standing up slowly, she tried to snap Dahlila out of it to take her
Seconds had seemed to pass like minutes and minutes like hours. They were addicted, or in love. Neither had been able to distinguish which. He'd spent the days doing everything in his power to find a distraction, pouring himself into his work nine-to-five and then letting a drink, or ten, settle him in the evening. They had tried tirelessly to find a balance but somehow couldn't tune themselves to vibrate on the same frequency. They stood close, cramped up in a corner by clubbers completely oblivious to the energy flowing between them. His surprise to see her was shadowed by the fire in his stomach, he couldn't take his eyes away from her lips, his own tingling with longing for their
She walks to the centermost oak tree near Mason Hall, she finally has found the perfect shady spot on an 80-degree day. She passes the boy from her Psychology class and gives him a small smile. She’s taking a journey to a jungle she doesn’t normally observe, a place where many humans and animals inhabit. There isn’t a breeze and the air feels drier than usual. The Diag seems unfriendly today, as she sits down she’s nervous of her surroundings. She plants herself on a somewhat clean patch of grass and pulls out her shiny laptop. She is reading “Werner Herzog’s Conquest of the Useless” for her freshman English class. As she dives her way into the reading she starts to think about where she is, what is going on around her, and the journey that she is on. A bushy red squirrel approaches her, she’s confused why it’s coming so close and quickly gets up to escape its presence. “Why in the world is this squirrel so close to me” she thinks to herself. The girl moves from the tree but as she get up she starts to notice specific details she hasn’t before.
I cringed, stopping halfway to my desk. Almost made it. A moment ago, when I'd peeked in through the classroom door, Mr. Lockhart had been preoccupied—completely absorbed in his book, as usual. I'd thought to sneak in without him noticing, but I should have been wiser than that. Henry Lockhart never misses a beat—no matter how faraway he may seem, his mind is always ticking. He notices every-freaking-thing.
It was a cold and foggy wednesday morning on june 10th. Hunter was sleeping on his bed when he heard his mom call him.
The digital clock that hung on the wall adjacent to her read that it was nearing six in the morning; she had gotten through the night without being paged back to work. A low groan escaped Lauren's barely parted lips and she rubbed her eyes, trying to clear them of their hazy vision. Her mind was a foggy mess of an open field with towering weeds that swayed back and forth to a violent wind while she stood, unable to transcend to the other side, isolated and wailing. She was drowning in that uncanny state of consciousness—not quite awake yet not quite asleep—and her thoughts were laxly rising from the depths of an infinite
She drew a long breath and exhaled slowly, her narrow shoulders shuddering with a mixture of exhilaration and abject dread. To Garman’s great relief, she said nothing more, but simply leaned back into him, pressing her body into his own. He could feel her heart palpitating, a relentless staccato throb against his chest.
“What the…” She pulled her backpack onto her scrawny shoulders and frowned deeply. Maybe they weren’t disintegrating, and she was just exhausted, tired eyes play a trick on the mind. Determined to solve this once and for all, she slowly reached her hand out, taking slow, and cautious steps towards the wall. Her hand trembled violently as she took another step. She
“Indeed.” Lily agreed. She flicked her fingers around her stethoscope and checked the clock. “Oh dear,” she fretted, “We’re really flirting with time now, aren’t we? If I’d known that I was going to so long, I’d have planned something nicer, but looks like everything’s shut up.” She peered out of the window to where, far below, the glum, dark cafeteria was sitting, empty and silent.
Tank looked up at her through hazy eyes. Everything ran in slow motion. He couldn’t understand a word Ellie was saying. By the time the ambulance arrived, a strange feeling had settled over him. He felt distant from his body and thought he was watching himself lying on the floor.
Jorgan’s ears were still ringing. One of Master Satele’s stray boulders had scored a direct hit to his helmet. Fifteen years in the military without a single concussion; four years under Fynta’s command, and he had three.
Several years ago, Tiffany and her mother were quite poor. They didn’t have very much food and didn’t have a very nice house. Their house was very rugged and the paint was peeling off the walls. Their house was a dark brown looking color and clothes were spread out all across the floor. Later Tiffany’s mother sent her to the store with a bag of coins to try to get something to eat. This bag was old, dusty, brown, and had a basket like texture. This bag was tied at the top with a rubber band. It had the words “ COINS “ written on it in dark green letters. As Tiffany was leaving her mother told her to bring something good back. Her mother said this very hopefully. Along Tiffany's trip she come across a tradesman. This tradesman looked like he was an average man ( money wise ). He was wearing these dark brown clothes and his hair was all messed up. Tiffany felt quite scared. As she was walking by the tradesman saw her. He was thinking that Tiffany would be the perfect one to trade with him.
Her feet crunched on twigs and dried leaves. It was almost autumn. The winds were getting colder. She could tell by the harsh cold grazing her cheeks. Pristine wove in and out of Silva’s legs, curling her tail around her ankles. Silva brought along Pristine for protection incase whatever was out there in the world would harm her. She felt the need to be a little more precautious. She was after all venturing into the world, without any idea what was going to happen. Now that she thought about it, doubt clouded her mind. Should I have done this? Should I have left grandmother all alone? She must be worrying. Now, I am worrying. Would grandmother be alright by herself? She will be fine,, and you will be too. Now get a move on and hurry, the sun has almost risen. Silva sped up her pace, and tripped over a tree root. She let out a squeal, her arms spreading out to catch her when she fell, but before she could, a hand grabbed her arm pulling her up.
Startled by a loud noise, Clarisse got up. She knew it was time, time, time, she thought, she always wondered why people followed time.
Can’t do it, you don’t want to know,” Matthew said, displaying emotions for the first time. “Okay, but you won’t be happy.” He stopped talking, looking around the room as if looking for a camera.
During breakfast she was thinking of ideas on how to get 200 million dollars. Her ideas involved her working in a car wash service or be an employee for a cafe, but she was young. Nobody would want her as a worker. Then an idea struck in.