Poem: Punch Drunk

You know it’ll hurt,

When you tell the tale,

Now then, too,

But the bruise sting—

That’s more the fail, Continue reading

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Microfiction: A Quick Joke

Scans show nothing wrong with Yang, but, still, he is there.

“Look, I’m sure you have wonderful insurance, Yang, but this is gone too far.”

Yang crosses his arms over his chest. He’s a small man but has a large frown. “Are you telling me you do not want more business? It’s a dumb thing to deny service to a repeat customer.” Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Foam Sword

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

My First World Writer Problem

The expression “First World problems” is interesting. It serves as a reality check for certain complaints. To get someone to examine all the comforts of their life they may take for granted.

It’s a common enough thing in America. I am certainly guilty of overinflating my grievances. Of being dramatic.

This is one of those times. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Don’t Move

No monsters. No demons. No evil.

Sometimes even I need to just write a tiny, funny story. I call it:

Don’t Move


Well see, here was the problem. I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t know how she’d take it. She was going to freak out.

She needed to know though. I would want to know if I was in her shoes.

“Don’t move,” I said.

So, of course, she moved a step across the kitchen floor. I followed her, sliding to her side, and continued to track with my eyes. Continue reading