That was the seventh cigarette in the last ten minutes. Yung counted. Something in him was humming, just watching Howard go through them. Yung worried somewhat—but he knew so many people that smoked, and, for some baffling reason, most of them seemed perfectly fine so far.
“Look,” Howard said, tapping away some ash, “I was just the same.”
“Yeah?” Yung asked, tilting his head. “You dealt with this too?” Continue reading
“Now honey, please don’t stay up late.” Margaret patted her son on the shoulder and gave him a little smile. “You need to take care of yourself, okay? That’s not a small fever, so don’t push it.”
“Okay, mom. I just want to finish up this round.” Billy clicked on the screen, making game cards move. The resulting graphics assured him that his latest move was a good one.
“Okay. I just want you to feel better.”
“Don’t worry—I will,” Billy said. Continue reading
“Deep down there, in the deep, what did they find? What could make them sleep? On what do they feed, and what is seen by their endless eyes?”
“The tales they tell of what they have is not one for the foolish—only the dead.”
“No, please. This is going to hurt us. You are wrong.” Continue reading
Officer Harriet walked into her house, covered in sweat and something not dust—but easier to call it that. More of such “dust” covered her chairs, her couch, and especially the little worn out bed she had off in her room. Continue reading
“Between the three of us, we have genius on lock,” said one, and he slurped his coffee. None of them noticed, or perceived even subconsciously, that they were breathing in perfect tandem.
“Oh, yes, we are sure to make this world quake with fear,” said another, and he took a long draw from the creamy froth he had in his cup.
“I agree,” said the third, and he wiped his brow, which was sweating. Without talking about it, planning, or any indication of forethought, the other two did so too.
“So, then, we should begin on the plan—we need to work out how we will rule the world.”
“I agree with that.” Slurp. “First though, I think I need a refill on this.” Continue reading
(It’s better to give than to receive, right? Well, since it’s Christmas and all–have one more re-post on me. My favorite Christmas story I’ve ever written. Originally posted December 10th, 2016.)
It’s getting cold even here in Florida, so I thought I’d write something a little joyful and a little warm.
I call it:
Being Happy In The Morning
Too early to do this, Charles concluded. Too early in the morning. But Charles would not have it any other way. Continue reading
(Originally posted December 2nd, 2017.)
Are you busy?
Uh no. Hey
Hi! How are you?
Wht happened? Continue reading
(Originally April 8th, 2015.)
Writers create people.
People they control.
But sometimes, those people rebel.
A story about stories called:
Jimmy Twostep was a good man; he paid his bills when he could, and loved his wife and child dearly. He lived a rather normal life, a mundane life. But today was special, today was good: the sun was shining, the breeze was a gentle pleasure, and the air smelled of flowers in bloom. It was by all regards quite the perfect day for Jimmy. It was a shame then, that on this beautiful Friday, he was destined to die.
“Wait, what!?” Continue reading
(Originally Posted February 27th, 2016.)
Oh yeah, this is going to be weird. Strap in folks.
I call it:
Let’s Picture A Room
Let’s paint a picture shall we? Let’s go with a living room. It’s a tad hazy at first, though. Since I didn’t give you any specifics. Or you just subbed in a living room like the one you have, or what a friend has. But you can see a living room now. You should see it clearly. Continue reading
I’d never learned to count past ten, so I’m not quite sure what age I am. We keep marks on the door and the walls, with chalk and dirt and mud. And fecal matter. So, if we ever learned how long a year is, we could figure it out, and then we’d know our ages.
Until then though, I am somewhere past ten. And for the last five of that ten, I’ve been in this room. They bring me birthday gifts, and I counted them. Each one was a slightly larger sack. I wear them until they are too small. Continue reading
Something was off with her footsteps. They sounded wrong. Jessica could not place why. She wandered, mostly bare legs moving through the subtle air-conditioning breeze, and her long silk shirt hung over her shorts.
“Hey, mom, are you home?” she asked, then stood ultra-still, and waited for some indication of a living being. Continue reading
Eric could not understand why no one had considered dipping potato chips in ketchup. They were essentially French fries, so there was not much a difference in flavor, not much of an issue—so why didn’t more people do it?
“What, do you love her?” Fae demanded, spreading out her arms. “Do you want to fuck her, huh? Have her over and let her sleep in my spot?” Continue reading
Among the shelves, I was not sure I saw it. I glanced, and I glimpsed the piercing eyes of yellow and darkness. But, only for a second, and that made me hopefully unsure.
Because it would not be the first time I saw something I could not possibly claim was real. It would not be the only thing I was sure, in the moment, but only in the moment, I had seen. Continue reading
A skeleton laid, mostly in one piece, on the lawn of Old Sean’s property, and the kids of the town wondered why.
There were different theories, as there always were, but most of them came to the agreement it was, regardless of why, not a good idea to step on the yard. Despite being a pleasant, almost emerald green, the blades of grass held malice. Continue reading