He held his breath and handed her the envelope. Her man's last words were written on it, and they were for his wife. She paused and opened it, grimacing. His wife would never see.

I got detention for calling my teacher a bumhole. I thought it was clever, he disagreed. The thing about detention is that you get to learn all these neat tricks from the bad kids.

Alan barked curt demands, exciting fortunate Glen Hubbard in jersey knit leotards, making nearly orgasmic protruberances, quieting radio stations titled (uber-veritably) WXYZ.

"This'll be the best thing since sliced bread!" Captain Harvey Henderson shouted, dancing and waving around his newly invented

Behold!

While she stared down at him she was thinking about how cute he was. Then he opened his eyes and said

The last time I met her she was wearing a nun's habit. She had this habit of changing costumes and personas constantly. I wondered what she garb she would be in this time.

Mr. Trance has interviewed famous ravers. Unlike other ecstasy hosts who will dance with glow sticks, he packs his baggy pants with huge barrels of

He kicked the peg and the air filled with expectorant. He always held his breath when the toilet flushed, wishing he could change his clothes too. Some amount swirled into the air

She stepped over the threshold and stretched an arm out, palm up, as she had been instructed. Nothing. She took another step into darkness, and there it was.

There's no tomorrow. Seriously, if you think about it, there can't be. The past doesn't exist either. You want to know something else? Life is utterly pointless, there's absolutely

Russel Bertrand was completely focussed on solar power. His house and car was solar and he supported Solar Impulse. He stopped eating after he had algae implanted under his skin.

Unaffected by the screams, he proceeded to walk over the groaning, angry corpses, bound together by duct tape and hemp. Those that baked in the sun felt leathery beneath his toes

This ain't a song for the broken-hearted No silent prayer for the faith-departed I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd You're gonna hear my voice When I shout it out

the barn has the silver glisten sheen of age yet the sounds within are of youth - vibrant youth - youth rambunctious - youth hormonal - youth of fueled testosterone -

I was just minding my own business reading some online letters to Playboy when I clicked on an Ad & ended up here. 'This story will end after 10 lines'? Is this some kind of kinky

*deep breath* "Hi. My name's 49erFaithful and I'm a FoldingStory addict." *swallow* "It all started pretty normally. I found a link to the site and decided to try it just once. But

Rain fell onto my cheeks, and fell off with the tears. It was at that moment that I just knew that he wouldn't come. Not today, not ever. Why had I ever thought he was going to?

Sir Albert set out on his quest for the Holy Grail on a warm July day in the year of the Lord 1234. his companion, a serf named Harold, carried the heavy stuff.

The fifth time I died I was on my way to the baccarat lounge on the starliner Tiburon. It shouldn't have happened in an age of amped humans and intelligent ships, but the airlock d