O’Grady sits in the armchair with the reading lamp on. The clock tells him it is 10:45, and the light from the window tells him it is morning. The armchair is new, bought just a few weeks ago, and so it puzzles him that the armrests are threadbare. They don’t make them like they used to. Continue reading Troubled Water
“We give thanks for the sun, whose energy feeds this great Earth, which, in turn, feeds us.
“We give thanks for the ocean, whose purple waters support our many-limbed body, providing the bed on which we sleep and the
platform on which we work.
“We give thanks for the pale green sky whose beauty inspires us even as it protects us from harmful cosmic radiation…”
A short comedy-horror story, now available as a Kindle eBook.
Hellhound and graveyard guardian Grimur fell asleep on the job. By the time he woke up hundreds of years later, the graves were gone and humans had developed automobiles. He had two options: check in with Beelzebub for his next assignment — never pleasant — or lay low for a while…
“Which is better, a flush or a straight?”
Raul ruffled the tops of his cards and bit his lip. He nudged Hammersmith, who was staring into the rafters of the theater, his jaw slack.
“What?” Hammersmith asked groggily.
Julia returned from the bathroom and opened another can of grapefruit soda.
“Which is better, a flush or a straight?”
“How the fuck should I know?”
Hammersmith got up to stretch and threw his cards carelessly on the table, revealing three jacks.
“Damn, you fold with a hand like that Hammersmith? Damn.”
“I don’t fold. I just don’t want to play cards anymore.”
“I get your Cheetos.”
“What do you want to do?” Julia asked, looking at Hammersmith while laying her head on the table and allowing her arms to dangle to the floor.
“The play, man! Let’s do the fucking play!”
“Why do you have to use the f-word all the time?” asked Raul.
“It started with a routine-sounding letter from my health insurance company. I opened it quickly because I was in the mood for a snack, and there was a little picture of cherries on the lower right corner of the envelope indicating that they had used cherry-flavored paper, my favorite. I learned that I would need to get a full DNA sequencing done by the end of the year. Reasonable enough, I thought, as I tore off little pieces of the letter and let the sweet and sour cellulose dissolve on my tongue.”
Or get the Kindle ebook here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08LTQBXSC
My shtick had admittedly gotten stale. I would say, “Hello! Woooo-oooop!” Then I would sway from side to side, rub my beak on my perch and say, “Whadaya mean, crazy?” Bodean got a kick out of that the first, oh, ten times I did it.
But still, what a fuss they made over that cat. The first time the cat spoke, Bodean paused The Price is Right and remarked to Nancy, “That did not sound like a hairball.” Nancy got down on the floor and cooed, “What’s wrong Banksy? I hope you’re not sick!” Banksy leaned into the caress of her hand and repeated his first word in a crackly voice, as if he found it extremely important.
“Well, shit,” said Bodean, joining Nancy on the floor. “You ever heard a cat make a sound like that?” Continue reading Polly
“Good morning, Brother Chris. Your tomatoes are spectacular.”
“Praise be to God.”
“Would you like some help weeding?”
“Thank you, Brother Jacob, I would love some. My knees are killing me.”
“Are they? You always look so content here, working in your garden.”
“I am, in mind and spirit, but the body does have a tendency to complain.” Continue reading Pulling Weeds
Word of the day: tertiary, adj., of the third order, rank, stage, formation, etc.; third.
Okay, diary, get ready for this, I know I’ve been throwing a lot of poop your way lately, but today was actually a good day. I know. Weird.
It didn’t start out all fluffy bunnies and rainbows. There were no seats on the bus so I had to ask this girl to move her backpack, but she totally ignored me. She’s kind of a gangster, but she’s usually okay. She just turned her head and looked out the window, like I didn’t exist. Already feeling like a ghost over here! You don’t have to rub it in! I tried another seat, and this kid moved his backpack, but with this heavy sigh as if I was asking him to do my laundry. Continue reading Dear Diary
“Sir! Do you realize that your state senator is a murderer?”
“No thank you.”
“Did you hear me? Senator Smith is a murderer! He must be brought to justice!”
“What? The guy with the …”
“Yes, the one with the big ears. He killed four people, and he’s not fit to represent our state!”
“Have you checked Snopes on this? Sounds fake.” Continue reading Why I Don’t Sign Petitions Anymore
The bees were getting restless. They had been waiting for over an hour for the humans to arrive, and they began eyeing the pretty yellow meadow flowers.
“Couldn’t we …” began Fluzz, “… I mean it seems stupid to sit around doing nothing … couldn’t we collect some nectar while we wait?”
Guzz had been pacing but stopped to consider. After a moment she shook her antennae from side to side. “No no no … please don’t. Then you’ll want to return to the hive and that’s when they’ll come.” Continue reading A Fresh Start