fakeredhead's profile

Every once in awhile the clock on my computer reverts to British time, and sometimes it shocks me for a minute - have I really been reading until 5am? Usually it's just a minute annoyance; a little detail to be fixed between MSN messages. Which is fine, except that it reminds me that I'm here and not there. It's strange to think that I spent nearly all year five hours ahead. And that although I've gotten older since coming back, I'm now living five hours behind. By some odd trick of geography...

He sits on his porch staring at the rain. It’s summer, and another storm triggered by heat and humidity has amassed above his house, his kingdom. He sits on his porch keeping sentry, allowing himself to be close to the chaos so that the domestic calm behind him is felt more deeply. If it weren’t for the dark nothing would ever seem light. It’s calming watching the rain. This is no passive process; this is an unravelling of thoughts and the day’s stresses. He’s an ineffective perfectionist. H...

Melissa is in her bad luck dress. It’s a pretty innocuous looking dress – almost elegant, definitely girlish and a pretty colour on her. It swishes when she walks and shows off her shoulders. It was relatively inexpensive. It was a surprising choice to some of her older friends. Melissa is a jeans and band shirt kind of a girl. She is a sceptic and an atheist, a rational former anti-girl. Beautiful, romantic dresses that vaguely resemble a ballet costume should not be in her closet, even if i...

The crash was quick, so quick that Jane might have missed it if she hadn’t been so unfortunately in the front seat. It was storming out. The sky had that dull yellow glow as it spat down lines of rain, immediately becoming warped by the wind. The clouds were ominous, and the scene chaotic. It was like the intro to a horror movie and it made Jane shiver. It made the road slick, made her car slip and slide down the snaky asphalt. She was on her way home from an afternoon of the latter; some of ...

Every once in awhile the clock on my computer reverts to British time, and sometimes it shocks me for a minute - have I really been reading until 5am? Usually it's just a minute annoyance; a little detail to be fixed between MSN messages. Which is fine, except that it reminds me that I'm here and not there. It's strange to think that I spent nearly all year five hours ahead. And that although I've gotten older since coming back, I'm now living five hours behind. By some odd trick of geography...