Sunday, April 26, 2015

886. The Eddie Murphy Suite

All her life, she had dreamed of being a composer.
She'd prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed for one soaring melody.
Try as she might, everything she wrote came out sounding like Axel F.
Worse still, they weren't even good knockoffs.

Friday, April 24, 2015

885. The Thunderer

The locals call it The Thunderer - though I have no Earthly idea why.
It's not much more than a pissy little crick.
Then again, sitting here with my boots off and my feet in the water, listening to the frogs sing mysteries to each other, it might be okay.
It might be very okay.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

884. I came here all the time

"I know this place," he said, rubbing the dust from the bar between his fingers.
The others nodded.
Except they hadn't - none of them.
One by one, his clone brothers followed him out into the wasteland.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

883. O2

"Ever make it on an air mattress?" he asked, stinking of amaretto.
He pumped like a furious musician on a mute accordion.
Vomit, unconsciousness, and a heart attack - none of them were outside the possible.
Minutes later, he was passed out, snoring in time with the leaking mattress.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

882. Two scoffs

Two scoffs, my grandfather said, would ward off the dark dreams.
"Two scoffs, two scoffs, two scoffs," he'd cackle as he topped up his cup with whiskey.
He died this winter - cirrhosis and old age.
"Two scoffs, two scoffs, two scoffs," his old tool shed seemed to echo as we shoveled out his hoard of broken bottles.

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

881. Good fences make good speculation

I want to know what's behind that fence, you fuckers.
I see you slinking around back there.
What are you hiding, dinosaurs?
Is it dinosaurs?

Sunday, March 29, 2015

880. Secret ingredient

I have dreams on nights we make love.
They are vivid things.
They're not even about sex, but adventurous things like action movies.
What I'm saying, I guess, is can we have sex?

Friday, March 20, 2015

879. Solar flare

So (gasp) fucking (gasp) angry (gasp).
That's how she felt.
She burned with the fury of a thousand suns, turning the event over and over in her mind.
It had been three days.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

878. Sidekick

"That's just a pet rock, isn't it?" she asked.
"Of course not. It's a sidekick," he answered, hurt.
That did seem to jive with the homemade costume he was wearing.
Undeterred, he turned and bashed the rock into the face of one of the attackers.

Monday, March 16, 2015

877. Held self evident

There are only a couple of truths, really.
It's all about which one, you know, speaks to you.
So what's your truth?
I'll buy it from you if you'll part with it cheaply.