I sat in the coffee shop, watching the hapless young fellow chasing after the papers that had fallen out of his bag and were now dancing on the wind, escaping in all directions. The urge to assist him in recovering them only arose in me when I realised they were banknotes.
Your hapless disregard for how I feel stuns me. You think that these ever sweet actions of yours will not hurt me. But they will. And they do. I can’t say that I don’t enjoy these sweet things but you have to understand that they hurt me I the end. Only me it seems.
“She was a hapless woman, my mother.” My father’s voice sounded the way rope felt when it was being pulled against raw skin. It was a result from smoking all those cigarettes years ago, I thought.
Poor, hapless soul. His trousers are soaked in muddy rain water. Fate was against him. For as he was on his way to deliver flowers to his beloved, a car passed by and sent water all over him.
She felt hapless and helpless and she knelt over him, trying to quell the bleeding. Stained red and shaking, her hands continued to apply pressure even as her mind slowly began to give up. Eric just smiled his crooked smile and weakly reached for Angela’s wrist, grasping it tenderly. Opening her eyes, Angela looked at Eric with tears making streaks down her filthy cheeks and lessened the pressure on his abdomen. Erics lips moved soundlessly and Angela understood that she would have to lean closer; her tawny hair swept across Eric’s cheek as she bent closer.
“I love you.”
And he was gone.
Ellen’s brow furrowed when she heard the unfamilar word. The syllables weren’t foreign to her- hap, as in happen or happy. Less as in… without. Missing. Motherless. Fatherless. Hapless. She nodded. It made sense, what this woman was saying. She was hapless.
She was straddling my chest, laughing, her auburn hair tossing in the virulent winds that blew around her. “It’s not that easy to throw you, you did make me struggle a bit,” she teased, “but in the end, I guess I won.”
I couldn’t help falling in love with her. It was skipping a stone across water and watching it jump. And wondering how many times until it would fall.
Ellen heard the word and toyed with its unfamiliar syllables in her brain. The first part, hap, she had heard in words like happen and happy. Less meant fewer. Hapless. The longer she thought about her teacher’s voice, the longer the word sounded unreal.
Hapless, I don’t even know what it means. It sounds like nothing. A wet rag. Something damp you throw away. Or maybe a wet dog in the rain. Hapless, the dog, standing outside your door. Begging to some in and get warm.
The man slowly picked himself up from the mud, tired and bedraggled. He heaved a great sigh and continued trudging on, only to have the strap of his pack break with his first step. It landed in the selfsame pit of mire whose contents sullied his face with heartbreaking “splunch.”
She felt hapless as she stood in the rain waiting for the bus. It was late and so was she. How was she ever to arrive to the appointment on time. Perhaps her luck would turn around if only she could get to that meeting on time.
When people ask me if I am the daughter who is the basketball player I feel like the hapless sister. “No, I’m just the ordinary one you never hear about.”
He wasn’t exactly graceful, just hapless and clumsy. He would bring her flowers in a cheap glass vase and drop them on her doorstep. Never seemed to care about it. Neither did she. He had dimples and knew all about Chekhov.
Hapless? Or happy? Letting things happen, going with the flow, doing what you want, not conforming to any rules but the rules that will make YOU and you alone happy. Hap-being happy is not being less than you really are and that, my friends is happi NESS. It’s all how you spell it.
“Such a hapless incident, really, you getting stuck in the cold like that.” Scott helped Marissa remove her coat and scarf as she entered the warm foyer of the house. She turned and embraced him, arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder. Scott smiled and hugged her back tightly, realizing just how much he’d missed seeing her around.
“Hapless?” she repeated, tucking some hair behind her ear as she pulled away from the embrace that might’ve been a second too long. “You sounded British.”
He laughed and looked down at her. “I wasn’t trying to, really.” Turning, he glanced back at the front doors and then looked at her again. “Where’s Bryan?”
“Not coming.” She clipped, the beautiful smile he’d fallen for dropping like hot coals. “He just…he didn’t want to. He said to say merry Christmas.”
Scott tilted his head to the side and gazed at her, wondering why tears had pooled in her eyes at the mention of her fianceé. “Marissa, what’s—”
“Don’t worry about it, Scott.” She half smiled and pushed past him to enter the kitchen.
Hapless.. what a hapless creature I am, to come across a word I’m not comfortable using. It has the feeling of a word only hip young adults used during the 50’s. “That hapless fellow over there sure could use a hug.” Ydg?
She called him because she was scared and didn’t know what to do. As she hung up the phone and said thanks dad, i love you she wondered if the man she never met would have always been there for her too.
She fell from the pier without a thought, without a plan. One moment the seagulls screeched in her ears; the next moment the roar of an endless, eternal rush resonated in her soul.
She flapped her arms like a baby chick–in the awkward teenage stage with patchy feathers. No longer sweet, but it created a twist in your gut of pity and disgust at your own pity.
“I just don’t know what to do right now!” she said. Her voice was like a police siren.
a hapless man walks down the street, sighing, and staring into the sky.
today was not his today, and neither will tomorrow.
he knows this and he walks with rigid steps toward unknown destiny.
he is scared of fate; but to fate, he is nothing but an unlucky fool.
It was useless to deny this feeling churning in my stomach. I just couldn’t find the motivation to do anything, to pick up any work I left earlier in a mood of unwillingness.
The patient, allegedly, was truly a hapless case, lying on her back with her eyes darting back and forth from one ceiling light to the other. The doctors simply didn’t know what to make of her or her progress, until her grandmother sauntered in.
“Where’s my little girl?” she demanded, and the medics showed her the bed. She sat down in the chair provided and pulled a somewhat wilted rose from her jacket.
His name was Harry. Harry Hapless. He had sandy blond hair and a grin that looked malicious on a good day. Whenever the children saw him they would laugh and shout…
Hazel is not very hapless, Augustus loves her no matter what. Aside from her health issues he is with her. Augustus is also not very hapless, Hazel is also with him regardless that he had his leg amputated.
Hazel is hapless because she has cancer. She has a very depressing life but her mother is optimistic about her and persuades he to join a support group. She meets a boy in support group and decides to continue to attend.
I cast the shredded evidence, a cluster of paper bursting from a bloodied left fist, at the fault in the stars, a crack in space. The knuckles rolling a quarter for my right hand take these descending paper skeletons as dance partners while my left hand and quarter fall at
Guilt and snow fall from space’s crack. A pulchritudinous love.
Printer ink flecks the dancing dead with the bits of definition, just enough to make a bodiless graveyard at my soles. White skeletons on white snow. Uncovered knuckles blister until redness chaps into violet skin flakes, until they stop sensing the difference between the snow and the paper, until my vein’s frostbitten blood
just
stops
sensing.
Some people are born in hapless situations. Other’s find themselves perpetually draw to hapless times. At what point do we draw the line between circumstances and simply just making things worse for yourself? And how did this idea become political?
“You hapless guttersnipe,” she said, shaking her head. “Did you really think you had a chance?”
Felicia snarled, throwing her selfless against the chains which now wrapped taunt around her slim body. It was no use, of course – the bindings could hold a full-blooded Clydesdale in place, let alone a slip of a thing like her – but defiance was in her blood and she couldn’t resist the baser urge to rage against her captor. .
I sat in the coffee shop, watching the hapless young fellow chasing after the papers that had fallen out of his bag and were now dancing on the wind, escaping in all directions. The urge to assist him in recovering them only arose in me when I realised they were banknotes.
Your hapless disregard for how I feel stuns me. You think that these ever sweet actions of yours will not hurt me. But they will. And they do. I can’t say that I don’t enjoy these sweet things but you have to understand that they hurt me I the end. Only me it seems.
“She was a hapless woman, my mother.” My father’s voice sounded the way rope felt when it was being pulled against raw skin. It was a result from smoking all those cigarettes years ago, I thought.
Poor, hapless soul. His trousers are soaked in muddy rain water. Fate was against him. For as he was on his way to deliver flowers to his beloved, a car passed by and sent water all over him.
She felt hapless and helpless and she knelt over him, trying to quell the bleeding. Stained red and shaking, her hands continued to apply pressure even as her mind slowly began to give up. Eric just smiled his crooked smile and weakly reached for Angela’s wrist, grasping it tenderly. Opening her eyes, Angela looked at Eric with tears making streaks down her filthy cheeks and lessened the pressure on his abdomen. Erics lips moved soundlessly and Angela understood that she would have to lean closer; her tawny hair swept across Eric’s cheek as she bent closer.
“I love you.”
And he was gone.
Ellen’s brow furrowed when she heard the unfamilar word. The syllables weren’t foreign to her- hap, as in happen or happy. Less as in… without. Missing. Motherless. Fatherless. Hapless. She nodded. It made sense, what this woman was saying. She was hapless.
She was straddling my chest, laughing, her auburn hair tossing in the virulent winds that blew around her. “It’s not that easy to throw you, you did make me struggle a bit,” she teased, “but in the end, I guess I won.”
I couldn’t help falling in love with her. It was skipping a stone across water and watching it jump. And wondering how many times until it would fall.
Ellen heard the word and toyed with its unfamiliar syllables in her brain. The first part, hap, she had heard in words like happen and happy. Less meant fewer. Hapless. The longer she thought about her teacher’s voice, the longer the word sounded unreal.
Hapless, I don’t even know what it means. It sounds like nothing. A wet rag. Something damp you throw away. Or maybe a wet dog in the rain. Hapless, the dog, standing outside your door. Begging to some in and get warm.
I have no idea what hapless means, I think it might have something to do with being happy? I’m not sure
The man slowly picked himself up from the mud, tired and bedraggled. He heaved a great sigh and continued trudging on, only to have the strap of his pack break with his first step. It landed in the selfsame pit of mire whose contents sullied his face with heartbreaking “splunch.”
She felt hapless as she stood in the rain waiting for the bus. It was late and so was she. How was she ever to arrive to the appointment on time. Perhaps her luck would turn around if only she could get to that meeting on time.
I dont know what hapless means BLAH
When people ask me if I am the daughter who is the basketball player I feel like the hapless sister. “No, I’m just the ordinary one you never hear about.”
He wasn’t exactly graceful, just hapless and clumsy. He would bring her flowers in a cheap glass vase and drop them on her doorstep. Never seemed to care about it. Neither did she. He had dimples and knew all about Chekhov.
hapless. um. The word isn’t coming to mind. Shit. I should be doing homework right now.
Hapless? Or happy? Letting things happen, going with the flow, doing what you want, not conforming to any rules but the rules that will make YOU and you alone happy. Hap-being happy is not being less than you really are and that, my friends is happi NESS. It’s all how you spell it.
Shame. I’ve never known how
or when to speak.
Staring at the floor, hatless.
Tactless. If I didn’t like you this
would have been much easier.
“Such a hapless incident, really, you getting stuck in the cold like that.” Scott helped Marissa remove her coat and scarf as she entered the warm foyer of the house. She turned and embraced him, arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder. Scott smiled and hugged her back tightly, realizing just how much he’d missed seeing her around.
“Hapless?” she repeated, tucking some hair behind her ear as she pulled away from the embrace that might’ve been a second too long. “You sounded British.”
He laughed and looked down at her. “I wasn’t trying to, really.” Turning, he glanced back at the front doors and then looked at her again. “Where’s Bryan?”
“Not coming.” She clipped, the beautiful smile he’d fallen for dropping like hot coals. “He just…he didn’t want to. He said to say merry Christmas.”
Scott tilted his head to the side and gazed at her, wondering why tears had pooled in her eyes at the mention of her fianceé. “Marissa, what’s—”
“Don’t worry about it, Scott.” She half smiled and pushed past him to enter the kitchen.
The second hand moved with a glacial, pronounced jerk. The hapless file clerk stares in anticipation, eagerly awaiting his break.
Hapless.. what a hapless creature I am, to come across a word I’m not comfortable using. It has the feeling of a word only hip young adults used during the 50’s. “That hapless fellow over there sure could use a hug.” Ydg?
She called him because she was scared and didn’t know what to do. As she hung up the phone and said thanks dad, i love you she wondered if the man she never met would have always been there for her too.
She fell from the pier without a thought, without a plan. One moment the seagulls screeched in her ears; the next moment the roar of an endless, eternal rush resonated in her soul.
ill-starred, perhaps like lovers
in a Shakespeare theatre,
our Hamlet cries unheard
of what we wish be.
Somebody once told me waffles were the key to life.
How could waffles be the key to life?
It just simply doesn’t make sense
Oh wait it does..
She flapped her arms like a baby chick–in the awkward teenage stage with patchy feathers. No longer sweet, but it created a twist in your gut of pity and disgust at your own pity.
“I just don’t know what to do right now!” she said. Her voice was like a police siren.
You tell her you don’t know either.
a hapless man walks down the street, sighing, and staring into the sky.
today was not his today, and neither will tomorrow.
he knows this and he walks with rigid steps toward unknown destiny.
he is scared of fate; but to fate, he is nothing but an unlucky fool.
It was useless to deny this feeling churning in my stomach. I just couldn’t find the motivation to do anything, to pick up any work I left earlier in a mood of unwillingness.
How many times would he lose out to the same type of adversary? Would he never learn, would he ever do better?
The patient, allegedly, was truly a hapless case, lying on her back with her eyes darting back and forth from one ceiling light to the other. The doctors simply didn’t know what to make of her or her progress, until her grandmother sauntered in.
“Where’s my little girl?” she demanded, and the medics showed her the bed. She sat down in the chair provided and pulled a somewhat wilted rose from her jacket.
“Here,” she said. “For my flower.”
His name was Harry. Harry Hapless. He had sandy blond hair and a grin that looked malicious on a good day. Whenever the children saw him they would laugh and shout…
Hazel is not very hapless, Augustus loves her no matter what. Aside from her health issues he is with her. Augustus is also not very hapless, Hazel is also with him regardless that he had his leg amputated.
Hazel is hapless because she has cancer. She has a very depressing life but her mother is optimistic about her and persuades he to join a support group. She meets a boy in support group and decides to continue to attend.
Hapless — Unlucky. Il n’existe pas.
I cast the shredded evidence, a cluster of paper bursting from a bloodied left fist, at the fault in the stars, a crack in space. The knuckles rolling a quarter for my right hand take these descending paper skeletons as dance partners while my left hand and quarter fall at
Guilt and snow fall from space’s crack. A pulchritudinous love.
Printer ink flecks the dancing dead with the bits of definition, just enough to make a bodiless graveyard at my soles. White skeletons on white snow. Uncovered knuckles blister until redness chaps into violet skin flakes, until they stop sensing the difference between the snow and the paper, until my vein’s frostbitten blood
just
stops
sensing.
I needed this. I looked as Satanic as I was.
Some people are born in hapless situations. Other’s find themselves perpetually draw to hapless times. At what point do we draw the line between circumstances and simply just making things worse for yourself? And how did this idea become political?
“You hapless guttersnipe,” she said, shaking her head. “Did you really think you had a chance?”
Felicia snarled, throwing her selfless against the chains which now wrapped taunt around her slim body. It was no use, of course – the bindings could hold a full-blooded Clydesdale in place, let alone a slip of a thing like her – but defiance was in her blood and she couldn’t resist the baser urge to rage against her captor. .
Hapless thoughts. Hapless words. Whatever was the point? Everything she was seeing (was she?) couldn’t sink in. She didn’t mean to. Nothing meant to.
Oh, woe is me! My hapless life is causing me grief!
Hopeless void-
What have you with me?
Succinctly describing me-
In terms unheard…
You drain my blood
Calling me hapless-
Aimless hope.
And so I fall.
The hapless young man tripped over the rock and landed in the water.