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Literature

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We spend about two hours working on our homework together. Susie seems to be having an easier time with the material than me. After we finish up, I sit down at my computer, with Susie sitting on the bed behind me, Birth Note in hand. "So, how should we test this?" "Well, the fastest way to get an answer would be to test it on ourselves." "But on the off chance it does work, it would severely complicate our lives." "Right. We could search for couples struggling with infertility and test it on them; that way, if it does work, the people we test it on would be able to benefit from it." "The notebook might not work on infertile women; and even if it did, there'd be too many variables to know for certain whether or not they were impregnated by the notebook." "We'd probably need to simultaneously impregnate several women with multiple babies each to prove whether the Birth Note is real." "But if we did that, those women would probably try to get

Literature

BIRTH NOTE: Part 1, Chapter 10

Location: Matthew Acerligno High School Date: January 17, 20-- Subject: Derek Einroh, age 18 "So, do you really think that idea of yours worked, Susie?" "It's really a matter of whether or not Karen Simone picked up on it." "I'm surprised you were able to find foods for each letter of the alphabet." "Yeah. Anyway, I found a handful of teachers at the school who posted their pictures on the Vilar website, so we have a chance to figure out how long before a woman is able to control a man through getting pregnant by the Birth Note." "There were a few classmates on the website as well. Could we use them?" "We can write their names, but it'll be less suspicious if we stick to monitoring the teachers. I have a list of all the teachers and their classrooms, as well as what they teach, and I have a way to get into their classrooms and plant recording devices without getting too much attention." "So, what do you plan on doing?" "There's a

Literature

BIRTH NOTE: Part 1, Chapter 8

Location: Matthew Acerligno High School Date: December 16, 20-- Subject: Derek Einroh, age 18 Christmas is coming up quickly, and Susie and I are looking forward to the break. School's finished for today, and we're in the car getting ready to drive to the hospital while discussing the Birth Note. "Okay, so, maybe we can look around at a school for girls for test subjects." "But how would we be able to monitor them without leaving a trail?" "Well, we first need to find a girl's school in the area. Once we find one, we can figure out how to approach potential candidates." Susie is driving, so I'm looking at websites on my phone. I'm browsing the Vilar website where couples have been posting photos asking for children when something catches my eye. "What the...?" "What is it?" "There are some strange posts on the Vilar website." "What do you mean?" "There's a huge chunk of posts with female police officers paired with male

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.. last night I made a man out of pillows and forgotten fragments of clothes we'd pushed into my drawers. I held my pillow-man's hand and made sure he wasn't too warm because it is summer; I'm on the second floor; and that was always your biggest complaint. this morning I tried to shower but would turn off the water and run like a soapy dog, complete with loyal tail wagging, to the door thinking you'd come knocking. You hadn't. tomorrow will taste like the food of a week ago and I'll wear sunglasses, which, if you know me, (and you do) will seem out of context and like a little girl playing dress up. I know there are

Literature

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.. I am on an airplane. It’s not in the air. So I guess it’s more of a groundplane, or a tarmacplane. It’s not just me. There are twenty-two rows, with four seats and an aisle. No one sits in the aisle, but everyone seems really excited to stand in it. I am sitting because I wore too-small shoes. I saw them at the store and didn’t care that they weren’t in my size. My love will make them fit. I adore you, can’t you tell? Just try not to hurt me. I am sitting, and there is a man in the aisle (of course), and his pocket is touching my cheek. This pocket is empty. It is the most empty pocket I have eve

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yellow bird

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When Day Dies

My hair falls out like a beautiful sin, my head, completely naked – convenes with dawn and together they get drunk on time. They overlook themselves. They drop all their favorite words and do not pick them up again. Two heartbreaks later the heat handcuffs them; together they murdered another day. Noon’s skull, the many pieces – lay fractured on the sidewalk. Suburb love is dangerous. Before ducking into the cruiser, my head peeks at the rest of it’s childlike body standing on the curb, innocent. My head is a scandalous extension of my neck, the rest of me doesn’t wave to it. We are not friends. I w

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Miss You

The majority of my life I never loved you outloud. It all happened inside me, like a trainwreck. Like the first moment a newborn baby is unswaddled and wondered at. It was like that. Both menacing, tragic-- and miraculously precious. I always save the nicest part for last, have you noticed? I do that because I think somewhere deep and resounding inside me I know, without a doubt, that it is going to be okay. One day I will love you in peace, not in p i e c e s . With a grand, retreating sadness I confess that today is not that day. It washes over me, or perhaps floats, maybe, yes--it floats over me like

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The Breath of God

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Yes, I am a Christian. That doesn't mean I'll be showing up on your front porch Waving a Bible in your face screaming "Have you heard? Heard the Good News?" Yes, I am a Christian. That doesn't mean I'll condemn you to hell for drinking that glass of wine, Telling you to treat your body like a temple and keep it pure. Jesus Christ drank wine, didn't he? Yes, I am a Christian. That doesn't mean I'll be picketing your home, your work, your friends Just because your beliefs don't agree with mine. That's a little childish, right? Yes, I am a Christian. That doesn't mean that I devote my Sundays to God, turn off the phone, TV and ligh

Literature

PROSE What Spies Do

My dad is a rock. He is solid, he is powerful. He can still pick me up and toss me over his shoulder. He is never seen to cry, he can never be swayed or damaged by opinion. He is a real estate agent, and he pushes those deals and sways those clients with confidence and experience. He flexes his arms at the dinner table when I ask him and points exactly which way it is to the beach or the gun show. He is a tree, a mountain, a thick and formidable presence in any room, in any place, against any person. “He’s late,” my mom said, and pursed her lips through the ste

Dansk i Norge

sartre-erise

Published: Apr 26, 2010

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Description

It was a very peculiar day to be in Oslo on April 24th! Briefly I wondered if I'd been transplanted into Copenhagen instead--but nope, that is Rådhuset right there in the background.

The odd structure jutting up in front of it turned out to be a 30 meter tall statue of legos... which explains the Danish presence. Still, it was quite ironic to see all these Norwegians walking around waving little Danish flags.

Taken in Oslo, Norway, 2010.

Image size

2048x1536px 1.06 MB

Make

Canon

Model

Canon PowerShot SX100 IS

Shutter Speed

1/1244 second

Aperture

F/3.5

Focal Length

13 mm