“I guess you could say there was a theme going through the blogs,” Kevin says as he sculls the glass of water down as if it had been days since he’d last had any fluids touch his dry, sore throat. “What kind of theme?” “I can’t quite explain it, if I had too I’d say…
Month: September 2018
Bad Day: Chinaman, Part Three – Short Story
Three broken fingers, a cracked sternum, two holes in my left shoulder, a broken nose, the worst fucking headache I’ve had this side of Joey Laurence’s bucks night and a clamp on each testical was what greeted me when I came back to reality. China hadn’t has the balks to remove me from the equation just yet,…
Bad Day: Chinaman, Part Two – Short Story
Now that we’re all on the same page, and you’ve caught up to where I’m at let’s get to the business at hand. Chinaman started spewing some shit about the end of days, how he was going to take the family business in a new direction and partnerships like the one his brother Jackie had…
Bad Day: Chinaman, Part One – Short Story
There is proactive, and then there is reactive. One means to get shit in place and sorted before the can is kicked across the yard, while the other is more about figuring out what to do now that some has kicked the can across the yard while you’re standing there with a runny shit slowly…
He Sells Sea Shells With A Vindictive Smile
“You’re DANCING the WRONG dance with the WRONG partner Herbert, give me what I ask for or the end will be more than a bow to your partner!” Sinclair growls, spit spraying from his mouth as he slams a tightly clenched fist down onto the table that sits between them. Herbert smiles wryly as he…
Do Not Deny Me My Fortitude Of Sorrow
“God damn it, can’t you see the shit you’re standing in? Can’t you see what it’s doing to Beth and the kids? For crying out loud Fletcher, wake up before it’s too late to save what little you still have!” Bobby yells as he slams Fletcher against the wall, thrusting his arm into his throat….
It’s Always In The Quiet That We See Noise
“Like one of those roundabout animations. You know the ones I’m talking about, where you stick a heaps of sequential drawings together on the inside a cylinder and spin it around like the worlds going to go out of style and you get the illusion that whatever you drew moves,” the boy says nervously. “You’d…
We Are A Mirrior Of Impossibilities, So Shed Our Skin And Fly
I’ve dissected every moment up until this point with cold silent reflection, calculated every lie I’ve ever told to find the trajectory of this moment here and still haven’t found any reason why I’m standing naked and alone in this room. Don’t even try to ask the question for it doesn’t matter what I was doing…
What Whispered To Me In The Ginger Wine
It’s funny how pain can linger from the most insignificant injury, and disappear almost instantly when the injury is life threatening. I know you all silently agree, some of you even agreed out loud or even took the time to think about that scar you have somewhere hidden, or in plain sight that almost cost…
Loathing To Be Free Of My Noise
Pulsating veins ebb with the life extending seed of oxygen, slowly suffocating our every breath with each beat of our diseased hearts, loathing to be more than a stain, destroying mirrors versions of who we see as our reflection, a cacophony of errors transcended by the darkness buried deep within your eyes, strive to be…
