Thenumber26.net Website Review

Stories about regular pas*engers, on an ordinary bus, in an average city, on a typical day. I heroically led the charge. Screaming at the top of my lungs as I sprinted towards the oncoming wall of water. Leaping over the tiny smaller waves before it, smashing through them, destroying them, regaining my footing underwater, and charging onwards, my plastic shovel held high up in the air, the sunlight reflecting off the red plastic. I could hear the ranks of the shell army cheering behind me The last stop along the Number 26 bus line lies just on the edge of town, near a cliff ledge looking out over the ocean. If you happen to want to get off here, you have to ring the bell not to stop the bus, but to tell the driver to keep going on. The … Continue reading The     Nothing makes me feel more present, more in the moment, than winter. The cold is a constant reminder that I’m still alive- that I’m still cold. That I’m a living thing that can be cold. The wind shoots right through me, bounces and ricochets against the bones in my The day was gray. The kind of day where it rains all the way through. Subtle rain, so subtle you’d forget it was even there, if not for the occasional reminding rain drops atop the head or on the shoulder. Water just sort of accu*ulates over everything, as if the clouds got I am a locksmith, and my business is in locks and keys, but my real business is in peace of mind. There’s only two reasons a locksmith ever leaves their workshop. The first is a thing I call “rescue missions”, which is when, for some reason or another, someone ends All of the other kids were always afraid of Mrs. Jenkins and her old house. They all thought she was an evil witch that ate children. But I thought she was just a sweet old witch that wouldn't hurt a fly. I used to help Mrs. Jenkins with her yard work. Every Friday I would … I live atop a hill just outside of town, on the fourth floor of a giant concrete cube that I share with a dozen other families, only