I Picture You I think of a rooftop at night, clear skies, bright stars, full moon, and sounds of music drifting in from far away; I cannot tell if they come simply from the next rooftop, or from somewhere much farther, somewhere much higher, somewhere currently unattainable.I picture a rooftop, and I think of you.I think of a garden in the morning, dew-dropped leaves, misty grounds, foggy skies, and colorful images floating through from somewhere far away; I cannot tell if they come simply from down the road, or from somewhere much closer, somewhere much more intimate, somewhere that always exists around us.I picture a garden, and I think of you.I
Orange Octopus submission 3 Why do genders exist?The concept of "male" and "female" are inevitably linked to sex. On an evolutionary standpoint, the concept of having two sexes combine to create offspring is nothing new. It happens throughout most of the animal kingdom, and even in most plants. The insurance that a new being must come from a combination of two different parents is an important step in furthering survival rates and leaving room for variation and the ability to pass on successful genes.From this standpoint, though, one must wonder: why stop at two? If you're driving towards a complex mix of genes, why not have seven sexes that are required to make a n
Orange Octopus idea 2, WIP My room-mate is a model. She participates in beauty pagents."We need to get you a dress," she said the night after I skipped the Formal dance.Sometimes I'm certain that the only thing she and I have in common is our room and our double-X 23rd chromosome pair.While the both of us identify as female, we do it in completely different ways. She wears her makeup and poses for magazine ads where they use a computer to make her even prettier. She chases boys, she goes to parties, she puts on dresses and asks me how she looks. "You know better than I ever will," I always say.She arranges her hair, she wears high heels and low-cut tops, she
Where's Bones? She didn't know what had become of him- she hadn't seen his slender frame in the halls, she didn't hear his guitar softly crooning from down the block... When she called that afternoon, he was nowhere to be found. He even missed the practice he'd scheduled for that evening.He NEVER missed practices.Practice was horrible: disjointed and unnatural. That night she slept fitfully. She dreamt of his voice, calling her, until she realized that he really was. Opening her eyes, she caught sight of his pale face peering in her window, his bony fingers rapping at the panes. Half-terrified, she opened the window and pulled him inside. He stuood si
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