Short Story

Burke illustrates Tom’s inner conflict with first-person narration. The guilt he feels over the inactivity he had on the night of the incident, his frustration with Kylie and the added guilt he exhibits because he feels sorry for himself all adds up to his conflicted thoughts. Tom doesn’t know or feel like himself anymore. But Burke brings this to the attention of the reader in a good light when Tom thinks, “But now I knew what I missed most. I missed me, Tom Brennan, and that’s why now I could smile, ‘cause I could see he was coming back.” Thus, when J.C. Burke aptly finishes the book with the line “that was the morning Tom Brennan came back, forever,” the true development in Tom’s character and conflict is shown through the employment of first-person narration. Therefore, J.C. Burke thoroughly addressed the conflict in Tom’s mind as it was overcome in the

With a weary grunt, Booker shifted the bag of groceries in his arms and kicked his apartment door closed with his foot. He had planned to be home early so he take Tom out to dinner as a birthday surprise, but as usual, work had ruined his plans. When he had rung Tom and explained that he would be home late, he had expected him to react moodily, but instead, he had received a sympathetic response. It was a sign that their relationship was now on stable footing. Tom was more open about his feelings, and they argued less about the trivialities of everyday life; they were moving forward.

When Booker pushed open the warehouse door the following morning, he found the derelict space empty. Confused, he glanced at his watch. At just past quarter to eight, Tom was late, and the dark-haired officer couldn’t help but wonder if he would show up at all. His harsh words the previous night had obviously impacted negatively on his friend, however, he still wasn’t sure what he could say to take the hurt away. He wasn’t proud of his actions, and he deeply regretted his disparaging remarks, especially because his target was a man who lacked confidence. After their altercation, he’d sought solitude in a bottle of whiskey, but his guilt had only escalated as he struggled to make sense of his feelings. It was then he had started to wonder if he really was a bully who got off on other people’s pain.

After an excruciatingly uncomfortable cab ride back to his neighborhood, Tom paid the driver, and ignoring the curious stares from the many bystanders going about their Saturday morning business, he hurried into his apartment building. He felt vulnerable wandering around in public in his underwear, and he longed for the sanctuary of his home, free from the scrutiny of prying eyes. While he recognized he had acted irrationally, spurred into action by the ferocity of Booker’s kiss, it was the second time his lover had pounced on him and forcefully tried to demand what should only be given freely, and the uncharacteristic behavior unnerved him. Something wasn’t right, but as much as he loved the dark-haired officer, he was too afraid to hang around and find out exactly what was going on inside his head. He needed space, and although he didn't want to admit it, he also needed time to reevaluate their relationship. A ripple of uncertainty was slowly gaining momentum inside his mind, and he was no longer sure if committing to Booker so soon after his rape was the right thing to do.

After his confrontation in the bar, Booker 's consciousness shifted to self-reflection, the intensity of his resentment decreasing as his levels of anxiety increased in slow, measured bursts. Tom had not only infected his heart, but he had also infected every fiber of his being, leaving him unprepared as a rising surge of emotion consumed his mind, body, and spirit. The Booker of old would have taken the attractive man back to his apartment and screwed his brains out, but the new and improved Booker had no interest in casual sex. He wanted Tom, not just as a sexual partner, but as a friend and confidant, someone he could share his innermost thoughts with when he needed advice or a sympathetic ear. He didn’t want to spend his life alone, and with the calming effects of the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream, their fight now seemed trivial, a superfluous response born from jealousy and embarrassment. In the heat of the moment he had overreacted, his protectiveness coming to the fore, his need to coddle Tom ultimately pushing him away. It was a foolish mistake and one he knew he might have to live with for the rest of his life if he didn’t make things right. Therefore, he made the decision to ignore his ego, apologize for being a monumental pain in the ass, and beg forgiveness, even if he had to do so on bended knee.

His cock twitched to life at the memory of the young man's soft lips moving over his shaft, and suddenly, he longed to hold the beautiful pool boy in his arms and love him like he deserved to be loved. He wanted to forget about the pain and degradation he had endured at the hands of a psychopath. He wanted to forget he had ever made the absurd promise to Holland in exchange for the tapes. He wanted to put the nightmare he was living behind him and escape to the freedom of the outside world. But most of all, he wanted to forget about Tom. Now, whenever thought about the man he had carried a torch for since the first day they met, his stomach knotted in anger. Rightly or wrongly, his distorted mind now believed Hanson was the reason he found himself in the predicament he was in. He honestly thought the young officer had managed to manipulate him by using his wily charms, and pretty boy looks to convince him he needed saving, and that the only way his life would ever have meaning again was to destroy the tapes. Although a cockeyed perspective of the truth, his ego firmly accepted it as fact, thereby protecting his morality. He did not want to admit he got off on the rough sex, that he had experienced some of the most mind-blowing orgasms he had ever had the pleasure to experience while writhing beneath Holland’s hot, sweaty body. To do so would reveal his darker side, the part of him he had not known existed until he met Ingram Holland. It was an aspect of his personality that concerned him, and he longed to re-bury it deep inside his psyche and forget it even existed. In essence, he wanted to be Dennis Booker again because the man he was becoming frightened

It was a bright and cheery morning. The tint radiating from thIt was a beautiful August morning. The sun was brightly shining on my sunglasses while my mother drove the U-haul truck to a warehouse in Santa Ana, California. As my mother drove down the streets of Santa Ana, I looked out the window and began to realize that the mixture of people was no longer a mixture; there was only white.

Philip, Kent, Mason, Captain Chez, his five fishermen, the three retired policemen, and many other volunteers went to the bar. Where they met another five fishermen, army personnel, the owner of the bar, bar’s cook, and two scientists from the pier’s museum. The five fishermen who came from sporting goods brought with them boxes of fishing nets, strong ropes, fishing harpoon and metal baseball bats.

The husband slowly puts the phone away. And than hugs his wife, both of them sobbing. As they stayed there in silence they both have a tear in their life that they could not repair. As they stay there the husband can’t handle the thought that his son will be killed in at least 48 hours by the people he works for.

A door creaked open,showing a room with a burnished nightstand and two twin beds with freshly washed white blankets,as well as two suitcases,one packed to the rim looking as if it were to explode,and the other wide open with clothes sprawled out next to it messily,making it seem like someone was in a rush. A family of four entered,the girl exhausted jumped onto the bed,her father looked amused while her mother and brother were silently judging her for having a lack of manners.Her brother stopped eventually and gave in to his own tiredness and jumped onto the bed laughing a bit when it made his sister jump up slightly,their mother sighed at the antics,and the father gave a booming laugh.

I also know that you saved me even though you attacked me. Since I wanted to ask you this before we fought, if I told you to stay away from her, would you do whatever it takes to be with her?"

Sitting cross-legged in the bed of a pickup truck, Adam picks plastic from the inside of a bottle cap.

hey said there would be a safe haven to the North, and that is where I am heading too. It’s the year 2153. It’s been 12 years since people caught the disease SOAP. Originally SOAP was supposed to cleanse the people from the ash falling down from the Great Eruption. SOAP mixed with the ash and mutated into something much more. The disease starts in your cerebrum and slowly takes over your body till you have no control. People call those diseased people Nothings.

Jared woke up slowly. His back hurt, it was stiff, and he didn’t want to move. He eyes opened; they fell on his alpha who was folded uncomfortably in the chair next to the bed. As he looked at Jensen, disappointment rushed through him. His mind drifted to his mother and Matt. He wished he had stayed back in Spicewood. Jared’s focus went back to Jensen again he noticed the alpha was staring intently at him.

Light started to stream through his eyelids. He knew it was time to wake up. The ritual of rising had begun. However, after stretching his arms, he came to a horrid realisation. He can’t remember ever going to sleep last night. He had to think hard to recall his last memories before now. That’s right! He was running down the laneway on his nightly jog before dinner. He had just brushed past a tree and felt a sharp pain in his neck. Then…. Nothing until now!