“Mr. Jones next door just bought a Bentley,” Keith told his wife.
“That’s nice, dear,” she said.
Keith went out and bought an Aston Martin.
David Gander watched from above as his relatives gathered around his death-bed for the third time in a week.
The halls of residence are silent, save for the small noises of the other Acolytes sleeping soundly. The quiet snores. The fitful turns. The creak of Alovis’s bed as he rolls from his back to his side.
Theo kicked out at a stray stone, sending it bouncing along the sidewalk. It bounced three times, then went plink! as it struck a post driven into the Stukers’ lawn.
It was a slow, rhythmic stroke; hypnotic, in a way.
Blue eyes scan my face as I open the door Familiarity fills them, She’s seen me before At her chair by the window, I sit by her side Leaning forward in whisper, She starts to confide “Do I know you?” she asks, and my heart races on “Yes, Mom, it’s me—” “I remember, my son.” I give her the flowers that I bring every week, Her favourite, I tell her The lilies… Read More
Tommy looked up as the front door opened and his parents strode in, faces full of smiles as they carried a large cardboard box between them. “RoboNanny, deactivate and recharge,” Mommy said. Tommy’s artificial guardian acknowledged the order and retreated to its recharger, tucked away in the closet. “Mommy, is that a present for me?” Tommy asked as he toddled over to his parents. Mommy’s smile deepened, and Papa picked Tommy up, holding… Read More
Things humans said