Sunday, June 25, 2017

1104. But also profit

I am compiling a thin volume of historical wisdom; tips for living you might say.
This is an important job.
I hope that it will make me a bit of money.
This volume should be quite popular among several folks - not only rubes and saps.

Friday, June 23, 2017

1103. Can we please talk about our demands now?

If you want even one single hostage to walk out of this building, we want a helicopter.
And, world peace.
Wait, Dave has some pretty strong concerns vis-a-vis a one-world-government scenario, so we'll hold on the world peace.
But, the helicopter, the helicopter is a must.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

1102. Selected chapter titles from my forthcoming book on newborn branding

1. Talent acquisition: better babies, better brands
2. Nativity narratives that move consumer preferences
5. Data-driven decisions on diapers for selfies
8. Segmenting your market: Are you ready for baby number 2?

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

1101. The bird

The bird was a boat-tailed grackle.
He knew all the tunes: mating and danger, call and response.
This was his yard now; his yard in the morning.
They would listen to his tunes because he wasn't going anywhere.

Monday, June 19, 2017

1100. Honey

She flicked a dab of honey idly from her index finger as she surveyed the carnage and loose bank notes.
"Now that's a robbery," she observed.
She took a swig of what, from my vantage point, appeared to be gen-u-ine Kentucky bourbon.

With a sharp tug of the same finger, she fired another shotgun round into the bank's plaster ceiling.

Friday, June 16, 2017

1099. ampm

A silly thing some people do is to try and "wipe the sleep from their eyes".
This is an expression and does not work.
As if removing the dried rheum from your eyes could make up for failing to adhere to a responsible sleep regiment.
Do you think you're fooling anyone, Fred?

Thursday, June 15, 2017

1098. Miniature things

A tiny rainstorm in a bell jar.
Scientists shrunk to the size of a pinhead through their own hubris.
The impact zone of an earthquake on a planet orbiting a sun in a universe contained in a grain of sand.
My own feelings of adequacy.

Friday, June 9, 2017

1097. Mother's blessing

"Ransack the universe." his mother wrote on the card.
It was taped to a packaged wrapped in brown butcher's paper.
She threw the package, arcing the box so it landed in the boat as it drifted away from shore.
He struggled against his bonds, wondering what was inside.

Thursday, June 8, 2017

1096. Westbound lanes

The thing she remembered most about the drive was the rain; crackling against the windshield like the sound of fire.
They drove west, murderers committing major crimes and minor ones.
Their destination was Wyoming or maybe Oregon: places where you could still get lost.
They made it as far as the compound and were never heard from again.

Saturday, June 3, 2017

1095. A whip and a chair, I guess

I am training a bear to do office tasks.
It's not going great.
He's eaten several of my fingers.
I don't think he likes the fax machine.