DeepRush

Every eyeball has a story to tell. The problem is, most eyes are not able to perceive the stories other eyes have to tell. The single eye of a pirate plus an eyepatch, that eye tells the stories of the adventures and long nights sleeping with one eye open the pirate has experienced. But if you saw that pirate working at a Dunkin Donuts with a prosthetic leg instead of a peg leg, would you be able to read his pirate stories through his eyes? Eyes not only tell stories, but eyes are also the gateway into human emotion. I'm Leo, and I can read eyes. It's not a superpower, anyone can do it, I've just mastered the art. Well, I didn't exactly maste

"Where the hell am I?" That was the first thought I had. I was speaking to someone. I did not know what I was saying, but I could feel my jaw moving and heard the wah wah wahhh the teacher in Charlie Brown sounded like. Then I heard applause, but not for me. I heard it behind the black wall of curtain right next to me. I'm backstage at a performance, I realized. I hate plays and musicals though, why was I here? "Wish you were out there, huh?" a girl who was coming off stage said to me. She looked like one of the girls every guy drools over when they see her, the kind of smoking hot cheerleader girl every guy craves. I turned around without r

What is time? Time is undefined. Time is mysterious. Time is everlasting. Without time, there would be no progression. No regression. No past, present, or future. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing to look back on. Time is different for every human. One second is defined as is the time that elapses during 9,192,631,770 cycles of the radiation produced by the transition between two levels of the cesium 133 atom. One minute is defined as sixty seconds. One hour is defined as sixty minutes. One day is defined as twenty four hours. But each of these units of measure for the great haze of time feels different for each individual person

He knows that it's wrong If he were to be gone. What would the others say At the end of the day? Would they speak of his strengths? Or about how he went to great lengths? Would they show that they care? Or show emotion like a pear? How long until they would move on? Or would they forever be lost now that he's gone? He did not want the answers to these. He needed to eat some crackers and cheese.

This was at least the thirtieth time I had to climb this tree. I don't know who's cat this is or why I keep bothering with it, especially considering I'm highly allergic to cats and the snow. But without fail I drag myself out into the freezing snow, climb this tree to retrieve this black cat, and climb back down. I do not think about it anymore, it's second nature to me. I feel like it's all I ever do anymore, go out into the snow and get this cat. Once I am finally about to get comfortable again, that damn (pardon my French) cat gets stuck in the tree again. I tried to just leave it in the tree once, but the cat did not move. The cat stayed