Author's Note: My spiritual mother, Colonel Marina Raskova, founder of 588th Night Bomber Regiment -- what the Germans in WW2 called "Die Nachthexen," the "Night Witches" -- once asked me, "what is the purpose of prose if not poetry?" She delighted in French Avant-garde theater, Dada art, surrealistic verse, and so do I. If stream of consciousness bores you,...
A lot happened after the plane landed, which was fitting, since so much happened on the plane. First, there was an increasing sense of awkwardness, resulting in silence and even fear. Most of this surrounded my close friend Alana, who marched into the airport and toward the baggage pick-up without as much as a word to me. She didn't appear mad, but was def...
Pooja Kulkarni had just turned 19. She had celebrated her birthday around 15 days back. But soon after her birthday, she had received a rude shock upsetting her life. She had a huge row with her boyfriend. The result was a complete shock to her. Not only Avinash had lots of unsavory things to her, but he had insulted her outright. Now she was thinking if h...
My first submission on this site. Enjoy! ------ I awoke after some strange dreams when a sound just on the edge of my perception roused me. The house was empty and dark, save for the street lights filtering in through the windows and casting the house into a contrast of yellow patches of light on impenetrable shadows. At this time of year I didn't need ai...
"That is the biggest crock of shit I have ever heard." Tom's roommate slammed down his beer can in disgust, punctuating his disapproval with a deep belch. "You're gonna to skip out the game for a what?" "An Earth Day festival. Look Sam, I promised Sally. She'll be really pissed if I don't show up." "Pissed? You're going to have thirty frat brothers really...
Copyright 2008 All rights reserved. This material maybe not be reprinted or posted on any other internet site without the expressed written consent of the author. Harry Brennan reached over and hit the disconnect button on his speaker phone and chortled with glee. "A cool nine million in settlement, of which we get three - not bad for an afternoon's work,"...
I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course encouragement. I'd also like to add that we don't always see eye to eye, they tell me off sometimes - well quite often really. Add to that, that I can't leave a story alone and play around with it once its been returned by them. Anyway I take full responsibilit...
A semi-autobiographical account of my sexual encounters over many years. Chapter Nine. 1993. (February.) Patrick, forty. Patrick was a guy of forty I had occasional meetings with in my work and it was after one such meeting that the following exciting story occurred. Leaving Patrick's office I was vexed to find my car wouldn't start. Returning to his off...
CHAPTER 3: Time to Think I packed my bags and headed out the door, catching the Greyhound bus to my sisters at 10 am. I felt sad, confused and depressed watching the miles tick by on Interstate 29 and 90. How the fuck did this happen to me? I haven't had the best of luck getting girlfriends or getting the sex I've always craved and now I feel like I've be...
For once, she was glad that is was a "no sex Sunday." Sunday was the day that Daddy insisted upon resting from all but the most absolutely necessary activity. He firmly believed a rest from all normal activities was beneficial. She mostly agreed. After her "work" activity on Saturday morning and afternoon, it was good for her that Daddy was exhausted on Satu...