My guts felt like half-cooked eggs. I was so hungover. Could someone please crush my head under an earth mover's tire? Good God, who is that in my bed? Why are my fingers bloody?

There was a girl that loved to dance and wanted the whole world to see her.

The room was dark, dank and eerie. A single lightbulb was hanging from the ceiling, it flickered. There were no doors, only the gray walls that were slowly closing in on me.

Once upon a time, there was a man named Ron. Ron was an elderly man who has lived an exceptional life. He filled his early years of living with extreme adventures.

Misty DuPre. 8472 Rose St. Objective: Challenging and rewarding career in sanitation management restructuring via redundancy analysis. Skills: Restructuring, Sanitation, Analysis,

"Hello," said Alison. "Hello," said Jan. "We are so glad us two get to work with you Alex. You are just a real hero to us." Alex looked embarassed by the compliments.

And the man continued to rant at the students. He was angry. Very angry. For what reason? I did not know. I just sat in the back of the class and watched the teacher complain.

The really trippy thing about Folding Story is watching an idea mutate, line by line. By the time this story gets all the way to the end, it will probably be about flying purple

"I think they are out to get me." "How can you tell?" "There is all this 'whispering' behind my back." "Well, you do work at a library."

Dr. Crotchieghrasper was proud of his gallstone collection. He had amassed an impressive collection of specimens displayed in the reception. Of them all the one that looked lik

It was a mid-summer night's dream. The flowers wore a burnt rim around their lush, vibrant petals, and foam from the nearby chemical plant washed against the river side.

The Moon was a pale disk in the roiling sky, casting its leery gaze over the landscape: trees, barren of leaves, bending under a screeching wind. Black dust, the choking ash, swirl

"I don't even slightly understood you," my sensai, Kai, mocked, as I collapsed to the training mat for the third time tonight. "Why do karate when your passion is ballet?"

הסיפור שלנו מתחיל ביום סגרירי ואפל

I logged on to see what the night shift had produced down the foldingstory mine while I was tucked up with the sandman. Like fabulous boots found on the shoemaker's bench, folds ap

The clock was edging along slowly but surely. The pressure was on. I had ten more seconds to finish the paper or my life would be over. The killer looked at me, his eyes pulsating

A season of listening fell upon the Earth.

July 15th, 1478: I decided to write down everything if anything happens to me, so one could pick up from where I finished. I think I'm on a good way to find the secret formula...

I wanna live with a Cinnamon Girl.

Even under the artificial light of the bookstore her angelic glow radiated. I had to force myself not to stare at her as she repeatedly pulled books down from the shelf, carefully