You Suck

The glue, it seeped like molten lava, down the page and onto the floor. Alas, he had done it. My homework was ruined. I was going to be dead. The slimy bastard, his nose so high and ugly told tales of perceived excellence, just stood there with a mask of innocence slapped there on his face. If I were a buzzard, or a tiger perhaps, or even a mouse, anything with claws enough to be used I would have ripped that mask and skin with it too clean of that putrid little skull. His thinness bothered me. His shadow bothered me. His presence bothered me. There was nothing I could do. S.H.

Huffington Post and Self Promotion

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/neil-ayres/how-well-do-we-really-wan_b_1281507.html?ref=uk-culture I think to stick out from the crowd in literature does not require the public to KNOW you, but to KNOW OF you.

Get up you useless waste of - oh, mother, it's you ...

Drip off, take shelter, walk along, just ride. Why he decided to utter those four strange two word phrases at that particular time was a bridge too far for my meagre comprehension to wrap around at such an early hour in the morning. And by early I mean 11 am. And by 11 am I mean 11 AM! It's funny how sleep seems to take on a rather tragic character when you forget to meet him after work for drinks. He gets annoyed. Sleep would rather you met him, on time (or near enough) in all your splendour (or lack there of) and when the sun doth shine, precisely EACH and EVERY night. When you miss an appointment he’s been known to shake his head in fettered pity and sprinkle out simple words into your ears like ‘pleb’ and ‘tool’, just when you were thinking of getting to know the guy again. SH.

Sky

He threw his hands up high in the air, as if trying to hold the sky in place. SH.