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During those times, they'd stand there watching me watching them. I'd pray, please. Put a pillow to my face. Clench a hand around my throat. Stab me. Shoot me. Put me out of everyone's misery. Why did you give birth to such a loser? Why didn't you admit I was hopeless and fat and stop trying to make me fit in? This world wasn't meant for me. I was born too soon or too late. Too defective. I wish I could tell my parents, "If you want to help me, help me die." I wonder, Are they required to fill out a 24-hour suicide watch form? Is the Defect at home? Check. Is It alive? Check. Why did they bother with the constructive surgery on my throat anyway? Waste of money. They threw away or hid from me everything with sharp edges or breakables. Picture frames. Pottery. Did they think they could suicide-proof this place? I want to tell them, "Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person ↗
In the year 1212, sincere Christian parents of the medieval church decided to send their children to conquer Jerusalem and drive out the Moors, This Children's Crusade, as it was called, was a disaster. The children died in severe storm or were slaughtered by bandits and wild beasts. Those who survived were sold into slavery to the Moors and raised as Moslems. You cannot serve God by disobeying God. A similar slaughter is taking place today. Some Christian parents send their children to public schools to take them for Christ. Others are just sent to get an education. Some are sent just to get them out of the house. The result is the same. Casualties lie all around us. The few children who survive with their faith intact are more influenced than they are influential. ↗
Beth had been a middle school science teacher and Joni was a librarian and they both had collections of weird stuff they had found. Bizarre, misspelled letters written by lovelorn eighth graders. Obscene Polaroids left in between the pages of library books. They used to call each other on the phone to share their latest discovery, and Critter had always remained a little off to the side, never feeling quite as sharp or ironic as they were. Critter was an electrician, primarily home repair, and so he didn't usually come across anything except bad wiring and faulty lighting fixtures. ↗
Mikolay had explored the big attic many times before, and he knew that his mummy misplaced boxes all the time. Ah, I,don’t really want a wand, um, that much. Can we go home now? “Please? begged Julia as she walked toward the door. But Mikolay grabbed her hand and whispered:Lets just see where the shadow is going and after that, we can go right home. Mikolay and Julia carefully moved closer and closer to the wall. ↗
#children-books #fairies #illustrated-books #kids #kids-books
Suddenly, the shadow disappeared through the wall! Maybe the shadow disappeared again.Can we please go back home now?I really don’t like it here & I’m scared! Julia pleaded. The shadow was standing by a very small cage, pointing its long, thin finger towards the floor. ↗
#children-books #fairies #illustrated-books #kids #kids-books
Her mother, an unshapely, chubby-cheeked creature from the rural gentry of Styria, permanently lost her hair at the age of forty after being treated for influenza by her husband, and prematurely withdrew from society. She and her husband were able to live in the Gentzgasse thanks to her mother's fortune, which derived from the family estates in Styria and then devolved upon [i]her.[/i] She provided for everything, since her husband earned nothing as a doctor. He was a socialite, what is known as a beau, who went to all the big Viennese balls during the carnival season and throughout his life was able to conceal his stupidity behind a pleasingly slim exterior. Throughout her life Auersberger's mother-in-law had a raw deal from her husband, but was content to accept her modest social station, not that of a member of the nobility, but one that was thoroughly petit bourgeois. Her son-in-law, as I suddenly recalled, sitting in the wing chair, made a point of hiding her wig from time to time--whenever the mood took him--both in the Gentzgasse and at the Maria Zaal in Styria, so that the poor woman was unable to leave the house. It used to amuse him, after he had hidden her wig, to drive his mother-in-law up the wall, as they say. Even when he was going on forty he used to hide her wigs--by that time she has provided herself with several--which was a symptom of his sickness and infantility. I often witnessed this game of hide-and-seek at Maria Zaal and in the Gentzgasse, and I honestly have to say that I was amused by it and did not feel in the least bit ashamed of myself. His mother-in-law would be forced to stay at home because her son-in-law had hidden her wigs, and this was especially likely to happen on public holidays. In the end he would throw the wig in her face. He needed his mother-in-law's humiliation, I reflected, sitting in the wing chair and observing him in the background of the music room, just as he needed the triumph that this diabolical behavior brought him. ↗
So I hear we get to go to town this weekend. Want to catch a movie or something? --Z P.S. That is, if Jimmy doesn't mind. Translation: This weekend might be a good chance for us to see each other outside our school in a social environment, free of competetiton. I do not view other boys as threats, and I enjoy making them seem insignificant by calling them the wrong names. (Translation by Macey McHenry) ↗
I want to do it too!" (sitting motionless) Nudge: "Nope, you stand out like a fart in a church." Max: (muttering) "Appropriately enough." Iggy: "What about me?" (stands still) Max: "No, you're visible." Iggy: "Am not!" Max: (throws a pinecone at him) "Could I do that if I wouldn't see you? ↗
#gazzy #humor #iggy #invisibility #max
