One could not overstate the significance of the foam sword. Perhaps, in the entire history of the room, and the house’s various occupants through the years, the foam sword was the most important thing to ever grace those four walls. For one, it tied the room together nicely; for another, it made several religions with its very presence. Continue reading
Category Archives: Writing
Flash Fiction: The Light Underneath The Door
In the dark of his room, he sits and sees the light that comes out from underneath a door. Not a light is on in his room, not even the usually on computer screen. His head hurts, throbs even, and the darkness is the only thing that makes the pain even slow, even lessen a little. But, he also lives alone, and that light does not make sense. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Uncertainty In The Workplace
The higher-ups of the company did not deem it necessary to interview the beings who quit out of the job. But, when it came to Jerald Punch, Employee of the Month six months running, they had to know why he would leave the game so young.
“Is it the pay?” asked the first, his eyeglasses covering the deep embers that should be human eyes. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Forgot
Westin did not recognize where he was. The walls of silver, and the floor of deep magenta, and the uniform screens of solid yellow dotting the walls, all did not match any familiar location.
And, adding to the issue, sitting up proved to be quarrelsome. His feet would not function, and it was only with some serious effort across his stomach, and a flailing, pushing motion of his hands, that he did rise and sit. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Do You Really Need Sleep?
“You do know I do need to sleep, right?” he asked, peering up at her. With her hair forming a halo around her face, Gertrude looked like some mixture of angel and a trickster god—her countenance round and full of mischief.
“Oh, I don’t know—sleep might not matter all that much, actually. Did you ever try not sleeping?” Continue reading
Poem: AHH!
Ahh…
He thought.
As it came upon him.
The days,
Filled with more,
Than he could stomach. Continue reading
Microfiction: Confessional Rainclouds
Rain clouds part when she is around, and yet I do not love her. And, yet, I so love her. Complicated feelings, all of them. Shifting. Sifting. Sliding. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: The Tasteless Meal
Jess examined the bowl of white something or other and looked up at her friend.
“So, what do you think of it?” Heather asked.
“I mean…” Jess said and then bit her lower lip. “It is by far the most unique piece of food I have ever had.” Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Bad Days
We all have those days, right? That’s the saying, at least. But, Willow, Willow did not have bad days—she had the worst days. Supernaturally horrible days. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Clown Thoughts
Fern was convinced that a clown was standing at the foot of his bed when he fell asleep each night. “This was not rational” his parents would tell him. His doctors, doctors for both his brain and his body, all said the cause was something deeply wrong with him. Continue reading
Hitler’s Paintings
Did you know that Hitler, yes, that Hitler—history’s greatest monster—was a painter? That he was a creator of art?
It’s a bit of a head fuck.
But, no matter how odd to consider, this fact works as a good starting place for a discussion about something that has been bothering me for a long time. Also, I’m sorry to say, if you are reading this think piece and expecting an answer at the end then you are going to be disappointed. Continue reading
Poem: Nickels And Dimes
Microfiction: Application Process
“Do you really have experience eating babies?”
The demon leaned forward and smoke spewed out from his nose—threatening to set off the sprinkler system.
“Tons.”
“Next.” Continue reading
Microfiction: Retry, Then Retry Some More
All Cynthia wanted was to date this guy. It was her only immediate goal. But the universe decidedly had other ideas in mind. She was not aware of this, of course, not at first, but she got the gist quickly.
For instance, on her way out of her neighborhood, her car exploded underneath her feet. One second her foot pushed down the pedal, and the next a fireball erupted and seared off her everything. Continue reading
Flash Fiction: Hey, Honey, Have A Look At This
Austin’s voice came so clear from the basement it made Sam look up from her magazine spread over the kitchen counter and take a step toward the sound. Her pink bathrobe swished around her ankles.
“Yeah, what is it, honey?”
“Come down, I just found something…something cool.” Continue reading
Coolerbs Writes 