She wore a low-cut blouse that was black. the sphagetti straps would be revealed occasionally through a pull over sweater that barely covered her from the front. the contour of it's shape accentuated her bust-line and made it hard not to stare. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and the way she kept looking at me made it clear that she hadn't asked m...
A Report Delivered to the Overseer General for Corruption and Damnation, 4th Circle, Hell As generalized disbelief in the supernatural has spread throughout the mortal world, that disbelief being itself a product of Our Lord Satan's successful machinations (see, for example, the human Baudelaire's famous saying), it has been possible for the forces of Hell...
It became a ritual with her. Waiting for her lover by her window while watching the world go by. She would wake every morning with her skin tingling knowing that soon she would be able to see him. As she put on her running clothing, and strapped her MP3 to her arm, her thoughts would drift. "Will he pass me as I am running today?" She knew that her concentra...
So here we are again, Writing letters that may never be read, I at my desk, scribbling into the dying light of a waning candle, wondering if my words will even be read by your eyes or burned to warm myself when crying and the lashing of my own sycophantic tongue have exhausted me. Of all the ways in all the days, there will never be a way I can speak what i...
* * * * * Copyright Oggbashan November 2006 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. * * * * * The following are fifty-word essays with random thoughts on a Christmas theme. The title isn't counted. 1. Peace at Christmas At Christmas we speak of peace on earth, goodwill to men. There is normally more goodwill...
It was the third time she'd driven past the house, trying desperately to overcome her nerves, to calm the knot in her stomach and the tightness in her chest. This time she stopped, drawing into the kerb and parking opposite the small detached house, set well back from the road. Her thighs trembling, her palms wet on the steering wheel, she rested her head o...
In a perfect world, there would be no need for competition. Everyone would share what they had and no one would be left hungry, or homeless. Isn't that a perfect scene? Of course it is, but in reality, it will never happen. Human nature is thus that being competitive is a way of survival. Even when you look at the science behind conception, you see that sper...
Night time has a way of allowing the desires of the heart to rise without exception. No reality of day to interfere with what is right or wrong, sane or insane, lust or love. It makes no difference. It follows a radar of its own primal, intense, and without restraint. That's what drove him to stop by Kelsey's place at one in the morning. He had thought about...
It seemed a strange new development at first, to be sure. The notion of eliminating nearly all sexual taboos in one fell swoop did not meet with complete acquiescence. But before too long, it was indeed the norm. Disease had been almost wholly eradicated and those few that still had transmission vectors were cured. Pregnancy was highly regulated with a combi...
For nearly one hundred years following the outbreak of H1W1, the women of the world have spent their time on their knees desperately catering to the sexual desires of men, in hopes of staving off the coma for just one more day. With all the birth control being taken, it took everyone some time to even notice the virus had evolved and taken away their ability...