1 & 2; 3;
Farnsworth had spent over an hour pacing up and down the hallway before giving up and facing me. I could smell his fear, or discomfort over the stench of the hospital sanitizer. He stood there as if he went to his own funeral. “Morning. Please, take a seat,” I spoke gently and gestured to the long table. Pale and troubled he studied his feet. Finally, he and his resignation came in.
I kept myself in the furthest corner. Funny, how I found myself searching for the darkness. I stood in the shadows, like any good villain. Ha! Adam Lake, Professor, and villain. Sounded like something from a cheap action movie, from the 90ties. Also, I haven’t slept much for the last two days. I needed to match my looks with Farnsworth’s. That came handy later, I hoped. Just to make a point. Continue reading “Black Door”
Got no bats in my belfry, so I’m not superstitious. Nobody should be. I tell Ira every day I walk him to the theatre.
Fluffy feather-like snowflakes sail down from the grey December sky. The lighter in my hand spits and hisses sparks. The paper of my cigarette catches fire, one drag and my lungs fill with hot, dry smoke.
I thumb Ira’s number in my phone. It goes straight to voicemail. „Fuuu-it’s Ben. Again. Come on. I’m freezing.” The drama group will give me a chew out for this. Continue reading “Jinx”
- triggerwarning - grief, alcohol
I plunked down into the leather couch and tugged the patchwork quilt over my legs. Maria, my ex-wife, made it during the five long years of our marriage. She made it for Amy, our little daughter.
I petted the fabric, fingers tracing the sewed areas, for the hundredths time, maybe for the hundred-thousandths time by now…
It had been vibrant and colorful, with the reds and blues and yellows thoughtfully arranged on twenty to thirty-five inches. Baby animals playing under the stars and the moon. Pink hearts lined beneath those little paws. My fingertips knew all the stitches.
Continue reading “The Stain”
The locusts are coming. It’s not a warning, it’s a promise. We know you are not a farmer. We know you don’t give a s****, but the locusts do. It’s a mutation within your DNA. Those locusts are just going to love you to bits. We suggest you don’t leave your apartment, and tape the windows and the doors shut.
There are letters on your doorstep. They are all the love letters that were lost, or never sent in the first place. There are simple napkins, post-its, envelopes, and torn notebook pages. Some are wet, some perfumed and some are pink. If you’re lucky, you live on ground floor, and you are able to leave through a window. If not… We will come to that next week. Continue reading “Weekly Horrorscope”
It’s late. You shouldn’t mind if a stranger offers help. Try to be friendly, offer tuna or salmon. This stranger could give you the most interesting time of your life, or eternal peace. It’s up to you. Somehow those cats won’t leave you alone, huh? A bit of catnip should do the trick, you’re welcome.
It’s easy to forget your dream from last night. It is easy to forget the dreams you had as a kid. You were so confident, you’d make them come true. That was the only sensible thing to do… But oh, cruel fate. There is no easy way to be faithful to dreams, my friend. They are what’s not tainted in us. They are what we choose to sacrifice. Continue reading “Weekly Horrorscope”
A cough ripped at my head and throat. I felt like I had razors for dinner. All was wet and dark. A grey reddish blur was all I could make out. My left hand stretched out to grab at the world. My head hurt and swam, and I shut my eyes. Fingers crossed my brows and came away sticky and warm. Continue reading “Waves”
dangers of underserved power – a chuck wendig prompt
I wave a cheeseburger in front of the animal. The chimpanzee observes carefully. He nods vigorously, showing teeth. His ears flap. Chuck’s the only chimp I know to prefer burgers over bananas, or fruits, or gummy bears. He’s a primate in every way.
Probably I could bribe him with booze and cigarettes too. Nearly a human…
I point at the screen. The pattern is so slow, that even the stoned biology student catches up. Continue reading “space monkey mafia (1)”