he just got in there and worked his evil magic. the sneering aside, the raised eyebrow, the well-placed throat clear. every thing he did carried an innuendo, or insinuendo in the words of peter o’toole in a movie i one saw…
You Phil, always seem to induce our anger, incite our thoughts, provoke a negativity response from us. You have a way of setting things off and stirring them up. You are by all accounts the true definition of an instigator, but you have instigated your last fight between us. Go find some new friends. We are done with you. We have been dealing with your games since high school. We are now 30, it is clearly time for us to put away childish things and your need to instigate fights all the time is a childish thing. So good bye Phil, lose our number.
My head is pounding. Cheryl sits across from me, smirking as she lifts her drink in a small salute. “Hair of the dog.”
“I don’t want a drink,” I protest. “Things always seem to go pear shaped when we drink.”
“The world is round,” she intones, “and I hate it. Bottoms up, Sophie.”
I stare at the glass the waiter slid in front of me. “Bottoms down,” I mutter, but I pick up the glass like the sheep I am, and I drain the damned thing.
“See? Isn’t that better?”
My head clears a little- not much, but enough for me to feel like I made the right choice. “Yeah.”
“So you were telling me about Jake?”
Jake. Work. Oh God, it’s all coming back to me now. The pain and humiliation of being fired in front of everyone. “I shouldn’t ever drink.”
Cheryl pauses, her hand halfway up in the classic “flag down the bartender” pose. “Oh? And why is that?”
“Because it never ends well for me.”
“Well, at least you’ve got nothing holding you back now.”
I gave her a long look. “You’re the devil, Cher.”
Cheryl chuckles. “Sure. I can be the devil for you, Soph. If that’s what you think you really need me to be.”
It never mattered who the instigator was. All that ever mattered was that he’d stop them. Their arguments were pointless to him- a waste of time. They didn’t matter. Just white noise to fill the silence that would otherwise suffocate him.
There were two chief instigators in the all out war between robots and humans. The mad scientist who escaped from exile, Dr. Clark and his assistant Stephanie.
I stared in shocked disbelief as the man grinned to himself in the corner. His girlfriend had been so accommodating to him all evening as he drunkenly made an ass of himself in the upscale restaurant.
You have this feeling every time he walks in a room that something’s about to happen. It’s part of his DNA… or something to that effect. There’s never enough going on to satisfy him. Even if it’s something as simple as placing a vase at the edge of a table so it might just break… he’s done his job. It’s what he does. He’s a troublemaker…
She stared right through me. She knew that I knew. And she knew that I knew that she knew. It was all her fault. It all started with her. Now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense.
he instigated love into my life
he makes it worth living
his jokes are fall of the bunk bed and still be laughing even though the fall is immensely high
his smile lights up my world
his kisses are the butterflies in my stomach
his ideas of fun are the best
his laugh, his voice, everything about him is unbelievably cute
his attitude when he shoots a goal against me is so gloaty and happy
his pretend insane side that seems so crazy it’s real even though you know it’s not
his kind and trustworthy and protective words during our deep talks
his crazy conversations, some of the funniest laughs I have ever laughed have been from him
he instigated love into my life
He had done it. he had started this whole thing and he wouldn’t even take the fall. After all the talks of being braver and more responsible, on becoming a better person, and he can’t even admit that he had done it.
I spoke up “He’s the one. He is the instigator. Don’t go after her, she was only a victim of his mad schemes.”
He always thinks he knows best. I wish he would stop acting like the king of the world. I love him but I don’t know if I should tell him. Maybe I don’t really love him enough. He makes me feel like his princess. But I don’t know if I want the throne to a corrupt dynasty. I love him but I can’t tell him. Or maybe I love him so I can’t tell him. Or maybe I don’t love him enough. He always starts the fight with the boys he hates. He always ends the night with a kiss and a promise. Who is the boy who loves and hates similarly? Am I his ticket to change? Am I his queen? Or do I even love him enough?
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. A man in a trench coat stood, huddled next to the building, trying to stay out of the rain. “Are you Mr. Black?”
The girl stands up upon the pedestrian gray table with something resembling a smirk on her face. Glancing around, she lifts two perfectly manicured hands to her mouth and shouts out, “Food fight!”
For a split second, the crowd is silent and the girl’s heart sinks into her boots.
I’d heard it a thousand times, sitting in the corner of tiny school offices beside my mother, her purse in her lap and her lips tights, fighting not to fidget. It didn’t matter what happened, it didn’t matter who I had been with, all that matter was that someone had seen me in the near vecinity, and then, there it was – instigator. When I was younger I thought they were calling me a crocadile
While Martin was known as the instigator of the dispute, he actually was not involved at all. Since it did his reputation no harm to be considered such a dangerous adversary, he did nothing to correct the common misconception.
She realized with a start that she had to be instigator for this coversation – it wasn’t going to come about otherwise. Like most things in her life, she had to put in the effort instead of simply waiting for them to happen. It was nothing new, but it certainly didn’t make her feel pleased. Talking about having a family with someone who was absolutely mortified of the idea wasn’t exactly her idea of a good time.
You are an instigator. You know it’s true. You run your mouth constantly about other people and pretend like you are not a gossip. Everyone does it. It’s true. It’s not like you can deny it. You started the rumors. You broke the story. You are not cool…
Es beginnt schleichend-
einer hat immer das erste Wort.
Einer hat immer einen Spruch.
Jeder Satz eine kleine Spitze.
Es schreitet voran-
einer schließt sich an.
Einer reißt immer einen zweiten Spruch.
Jedes Wort ein Schlag.
he just got in there and worked his evil magic. the sneering aside, the raised eyebrow, the well-placed throat clear. every thing he did carried an innuendo, or insinuendo in the words of peter o’toole in a movie i one saw…
You Phil, always seem to induce our anger, incite our thoughts, provoke a negativity response from us. You have a way of setting things off and stirring them up. You are by all accounts the true definition of an instigator, but you have instigated your last fight between us. Go find some new friends. We are done with you. We have been dealing with your games since high school. We are now 30, it is clearly time for us to put away childish things and your need to instigate fights all the time is a childish thing. So good bye Phil, lose our number.
My head is pounding. Cheryl sits across from me, smirking as she lifts her drink in a small salute. “Hair of the dog.”
“I don’t want a drink,” I protest. “Things always seem to go pear shaped when we drink.”
“The world is round,” she intones, “and I hate it. Bottoms up, Sophie.”
I stare at the glass the waiter slid in front of me. “Bottoms down,” I mutter, but I pick up the glass like the sheep I am, and I drain the damned thing.
“See? Isn’t that better?”
My head clears a little- not much, but enough for me to feel like I made the right choice. “Yeah.”
“So you were telling me about Jake?”
Jake. Work. Oh God, it’s all coming back to me now. The pain and humiliation of being fired in front of everyone. “I shouldn’t ever drink.”
Cheryl pauses, her hand halfway up in the classic “flag down the bartender” pose. “Oh? And why is that?”
“Because it never ends well for me.”
“Well, at least you’ve got nothing holding you back now.”
I gave her a long look. “You’re the devil, Cher.”
Cheryl chuckles. “Sure. I can be the devil for you, Soph. If that’s what you think you really need me to be.”
It never mattered who the instigator was. All that ever mattered was that he’d stop them. Their arguments were pointless to him- a waste of time. They didn’t matter. Just white noise to fill the silence that would otherwise suffocate him.
There were two chief instigators in the all out war between robots and humans. The mad scientist who escaped from exile, Dr. Clark and his assistant Stephanie.
I stared in shocked disbelief as the man grinned to himself in the corner. His girlfriend had been so accommodating to him all evening as he drunkenly made an ass of himself in the upscale restaurant.
You have this feeling every time he walks in a room that something’s about to happen. It’s part of his DNA… or something to that effect. There’s never enough going on to satisfy him. Even if it’s something as simple as placing a vase at the edge of a table so it might just break… he’s done his job. It’s what he does. He’s a troublemaker…
She stared right through me. She knew that I knew. And she knew that I knew that she knew. It was all her fault. It all started with her. Now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense.
he instigated love into my life
he makes it worth living
his jokes are fall of the bunk bed and still be laughing even though the fall is immensely high
his smile lights up my world
his kisses are the butterflies in my stomach
his ideas of fun are the best
his laugh, his voice, everything about him is unbelievably cute
his attitude when he shoots a goal against me is so gloaty and happy
his pretend insane side that seems so crazy it’s real even though you know it’s not
his kind and trustworthy and protective words during our deep talks
his crazy conversations, some of the funniest laughs I have ever laughed have been from him
he instigated love into my life
He had done it. he had started this whole thing and he wouldn’t even take the fall. After all the talks of being braver and more responsible, on becoming a better person, and he can’t even admit that he had done it.
I spoke up “He’s the one. He is the instigator. Don’t go after her, she was only a victim of his mad schemes.”
He always thinks he knows best. I wish he would stop acting like the king of the world. I love him but I don’t know if I should tell him. Maybe I don’t really love him enough. He makes me feel like his princess. But I don’t know if I want the throne to a corrupt dynasty. I love him but I can’t tell him. Or maybe I love him so I can’t tell him. Or maybe I don’t love him enough. He always starts the fight with the boys he hates. He always ends the night with a kiss and a promise. Who is the boy who loves and hates similarly? Am I his ticket to change? Am I his queen? Or do I even love him enough?
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. A man in a trench coat stood, huddled next to the building, trying to stay out of the rain. “Are you Mr. Black?”
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The girl stands up upon the pedestrian gray table with something resembling a smirk on her face. Glancing around, she lifts two perfectly manicured hands to her mouth and shouts out, “Food fight!”
For a split second, the crowd is silent and the girl’s heart sinks into her boots.
I’d heard it a thousand times, sitting in the corner of tiny school offices beside my mother, her purse in her lap and her lips tights, fighting not to fidget. It didn’t matter what happened, it didn’t matter who I had been with, all that matter was that someone had seen me in the near vecinity, and then, there it was – instigator. When I was younger I thought they were calling me a crocadile
While Martin was known as the instigator of the dispute, he actually was not involved at all. Since it did his reputation no harm to be considered such a dangerous adversary, he did nothing to correct the common misconception.
She realized with a start that she had to be instigator for this coversation – it wasn’t going to come about otherwise. Like most things in her life, she had to put in the effort instead of simply waiting for them to happen. It was nothing new, but it certainly didn’t make her feel pleased. Talking about having a family with someone who was absolutely mortified of the idea wasn’t exactly her idea of a good time.
You are an instigator. You know it’s true. You run your mouth constantly about other people and pretend like you are not a gossip. Everyone does it. It’s true. It’s not like you can deny it. You started the rumors. You broke the story. You are not cool…
Joe sat in the back of class waiting for the correct time to strike. he knew what he had to do. he had to bring the man to the limit.