It was the cool morning that first greeted the hunter. The sun was as yellow as it had ever been. It gave off the sort of light that could do nothing except give life. Blood would be spilled under its shine regardless.

The hunter’s pads pressed against the spongy ground as he first began to loosen his tendons. He was a machine. Every strand of sinew and spire of fur served a purpose. All his pieces operated in unison as he set out on his gruesome goal.  Continue reading

Good Question (short story)

Good Question

It occurred to Mindy that she really didn’t know anything about insanity.  She read half of Catch-22 back in highschool, just enough to know what Joseph Heller’s definition was, but she had her doubts about it being one hundred percent accurate. She really wished she knew more about all the various illnesses that could harm someone’s head, if for no other reason than to know if she was indeed going nuts.

She started noticing the feelings a couple weeks previously. It happened after she had to pull her second double shift in a row. It just felt as if there was no possible way that a business could actually operate with as few employees as there were. There should’ve been a handful of others, yet she couldn’t think of their faces or their names, she was sure though that they had been there. Continue reading

Taki’s Oven (short story)

Taki’s Oven

The funny thing about evil prophecies is that they get broken all the time. Everything that complicated is bound to run into issues along the way. It’s a well known reality, so when “The Chosen One” shows up, or an unaccounted for asteroid slams into Mercury changing it’s orbit by a millimeter, making it so that the planets don’t quite line up, no one really gets mad. it’s all chalked up to a learning experience and the next plan is drawn up.

There are a few occasions when the mistakes that led to the forces of good triumphing are inexcusable. Sometimes the oversights are so glaring, so avoidable that whoever was behind them can do nothing but hang their heads in shame. This was the sort of situation that Raz had found himself in. His head was held high though. None of the others had been there, so they will inevitably hurl their barbs and insults, it won’t matter. Raz figured he should get his story straight regardless. Continue reading

An Unending Thread (Short Story)

An Unending Thread

Their real name has far too many syllables and hails from a tongue that’s been long dead. Most people just call them Monarch Fish. They’re not very attractive. Around their heads is a fan of barbs and spines that look somewhat like a crown from the side. I hope that’s why they call them monarch and not because of their utter uselessness.

I’ve never caught one myself. In fact, I’ve never caught a single fish in my life. When I first came to this little town, I had dreams of taking to the sea and bringing in a plentiful bounty. A painful week of blisters, slices, and a near drowning taught me that not every fantasy is worth chasing. When I used to watch the fishermen from the seaside balcony of my home, it looked as simple as walking. Of course, after walking the hundreds of miles in between my former world of luxury to my current world of plain, I learned that even walking has it’s complexities. Continue reading

Melinda’s Masterpiece (short story)

Melinda’s Masterpiece

There really was reason to type up the entire report. It was only the bits circled in red that anyone ever gave a damn about.  Unfortunately, the report sitting in front of Melinda looked like the most confusing Venn diagram ever conceived.

“This is why we don’t get creative with things. It always goes wrong.  There’s nothing wrong with a spilled drink or both of them reaching for the same book. These are time tested solutions. I mean, look at this.  A flock of swallows, a parade, and I can’t even imagine what you were planning with the bus.”  Mr. Sheldon said

“Well you see sir, the idea was that…”

“Stop, just stop.”   Continue reading

Make ‘Em Shine (short story)

Make ‘Em Shine

I’d like to believe that my grandpa had a definite reason why we went to Michigan last. Unfortunately I had known him my entire life, I only needed half of that to know that planning was just something he didn’t do. Mom likes to say that her, and by extension, my existence is proof of that. I personally think that a better bit of evidence lays somewhere in the trials we went through trying to make it to Hawaii.

I guess you could say that the entirety of that summer was an argument against my grandpa’s nature. Fifty states, fifty lessons. If you’d like, feel free to hang onto that, you weren’t there when the idea arose.

“Hey grandpa, are you almost done in there?”

“We should see the country this summer.” Continue reading

Fear and Feathers (short story)

Fear and Feathers

The sign hanging above the window between the eating area and the kitchen was artificially rusted. The slick touch of it was earned by years of observing good, honest, greasy food pass underneath it.  The sign read “You can’t go home, when you’re already here” but at the moment, the blizzard swirling around just outside the windowed wall, was taking on the responsibility of keeping the patrons from their home.

The orange light of street lamps fighting through the agitating wall of white, looked like Brody’s Diner was draped in muslin cloth. At least it did before the lights were all extinguished by a fallen power line somewhere out of sight. The restaurant remained lit though. A lucky bit of placement on the grid, or something like that.

“Now, I can’t force you folks to stay. But you can all hang out until the storm lets up.” The diner’s namesake said, through the kitchen window before walking out into the main dining area. Continue reading