A Short Story

He tried to stand but was caught. Glancing down, he noticed his belt was tangled up with hers.

As the bubbles within the pot began to rise, my lungs were filled with the savory scent savory scent of onion and garlic mixed with the fatty smell of oil. The aroma was overwhelming, and my mouth yearns for fresh water, as I imagine the saltiness of drinking the pure broth.

Everybody got a square slice. I slowly clamped my teeth down on the bread. The lava-red sauce spilled out the sides. The mozzarella was like an elastic band, I almost choked on the cheese. The inside of my mouth was like a party, tastebuds dancing around with delight. The different kind of spices added the perfect touch. I then felt a warm sensation.The heat traveled down to my stomach and through my nervous system.

It was a beautiful day. It was dark, cool, and damp, just the way I like it. I looked over at Cassandra and Connor, and they were having just as much fun as I was drinking the water that fell down on us. The light breeze made my hair blow to one side. The ground was moist, making it perfect for everything we do: eat, drink, sleep and socialize.

There I was standing in the middle of the Kansas State Fair, looking straight down the aisle of the food court. Take in a nice big whiff and smell all of the aromas of the food that are to the and the right and to the right. The smell of the savory corn dogs mixes with the tangy aroma that comes from the fried pickle. The smell of the wonderful food makes the thought of how sticky and gross the ground under your shoes, just slip out of your mind. Sounds of kids yelling in the carnival mix in with all of the sizzling of grease and oil. Walking down the path and see all of the food other people have in their hands and think to myself, I must have that. My brain just drooling from the sight and smell of all of the fermented food. Food is one of the things I came for so I buy myself an order of fried pickles.

Suddenly, the girl tripped over a rock and fell on the hard concrete, scraping her knee.

“Chew like you’re chewing gum” my mom yelled as she demonstrated.  It had been a long journey and I just wanted to stop and rest when several delicious aromas traveled into my nose and caused my stomach to growl as if I hadn’t eaten for three days.  Following it was a scent of well done burgers with melted cheese and a side of mouthwatering, crunchy fries.  The smell of freshly roasted coffee was everywhere and it was so calming to me because it reminded me of home.

Later that day, Nerys and I walked through the busy streets looking at dresses. She dragged me into a shop called ‘Nina’s Dress Shop.’

We moped across the restaurant as we felt our bellies ache from all the food we just devoured. I specifically remember as I entered the ladies’ restroom the strong smell of women's perfume, lavender soap, and all the cleaning supplies the cleaning lady was using as she

Sheriff Eldritch Meeks straightened his hat and emerged from the Chevy Bel Air. Its beacon singed into the back of his neck. Red. Eldritch watched thin sheets of dust sweep down the highway. Everything was fuzzy. He wiped rain from his eyes and took a deep breath. The knife twisted harder into his brainstem. Headaches. The pain was getting worse. Stabbing. Pinching. Wriggling. Eldritch needed a cup of coffee and a cigarette. He needed a fucking detox. But it would have to wait.

" Y'ARE very snug in here," piped old Mr. Woodifield, and he peered out of the great, green leather armchair by his friend the boss's desk as a baby peers out of its pram. His talk was over; it was time for him to be off. But he did not want to go. Since he had retired, since his... stroke, the wife and the girls kept him boxed up in the house every day of the week except Tuesday. On Tuesday he was dressed and brushed and allowed to cut back to the City for the day. Though what he did there the wife and girls couldn't imagine. Made a nuisance of himself to his friends, they supposed ... Well, perhaps so. All the same, we cling to our last pleasures as the tree clings to its last leaves. So there sat old Woodifield, smoking a cigar and

Verin watched a group of young soldiers grapple behind the mess tent. He split his time between checking on Fynta and offering pointers when one of the guys showed bad form. So far, comms were still offline to the group that had entered the temple, but Verin didn’t worry. Fynta was impossible to kill, and he had little stake in the others. Granted, he rather liked the Togruta. She’d fought well on Tython.

The smokey air of Modesto California mimicked most other places in Cali, thick with pollution and smog, and near constant raining, making the earth a sloppy mess. A difference between Modesto and the other various bustling cities of California, was that it was far from bustling. In fact, it was mostly farmland and quaint streets, filled with local businesses and street markets. It shared its surroundings with various other small and pointless towns, much like it’s own, and San Francisco was the closest recognizable name on the map.

Ed leaned in to peer at hood of the deep blue Mercedes Benz. He wore a well-loved overcoat and khakis that had at one point been a brighter color but had long ago turned dark. Touching the finely waxed hood, he gazed at his reflection, warped and bent. He was not a tall nor a short man, and he was lean and weathered. Though his hair was naturally rather tidy, it had been awhile since he had buzzed it, the waves of hair tumbling around his face. Two bright eyes peered out from the mass of strands, watching the world go by.

Then a quiet voice out of the darkness spoke. Quiet, yet confident. It was so sudden, so unexpected, even the demons surrounding them were taken aback. Zoey could tell because they had a look of surprise on their face. But it instantly faded and turned into a malicious grin.