It’s the last day of summer vacation. Soon he will be mired in seventh-grade English assignments and history reports. Things Edward has no problem with. But brother Edward does not know how to drive and he, Davey, is killing it.… Continue Reading
Santa put ammo in my stocking again this year, so each dawn over winter break Pap nudges me awake with his boot and drives us out to the woods.… Continue Reading
I observe my multiscreened supercomputer slave away at its latest task I programmed for it: creating the most authentically erotic images of that flattop super mermaid Richard’s pet seems to adore so much. It is one of civilization’s great mysteries why that gorgeous creature doesn’t disappear from that plastic man’s grasp and be the much-desired queen for that fish man.… Continue Reading
He frowns. I prefer this expression to the smug know-it-all of a second ago, but still I smile a bit as I imagine hammering my fist into his perfect teeth.… Continue Reading
We all had dead people in our lives. We all had mamas, or somebody anyway, who told us that we would be with them again one day. I thought maybe that’s what funerals are for. So we can all be together believing the dead were all together, somewhere nice.… Continue Reading
The list always started with Acorn; that was one of the rules. For Linda, an acorn perfectly represented nature: clean lines, so compact. Roger liked how they reminded him of aroused nipples, taught and hard. Irresistible.… Continue Reading
My hope is to wake up every day and write something, whether good or bad, just to simply string words together. Simple everyday ten-dollar words so I can communicate with everyday people like a nurse, butcher, electrician, a janitor, guitar player. I’m not of the intellectual crowd, nor do I come from it, nor do I intend to be a part of it.… Continue Reading
The Great Observationist is thinking about how when it comes, the headache will flatten him, but not as much as the dullness. About how the only thing worse than the headache and the dullness is the fear of never feeling anything again. About how withdrawal is an artistic mandate.… Continue Reading
Max didn’t care much for the poke in his heart when he looked at the boy, or the moisture in the corner of his eyes, or the hitch in his breathing, as if inhaling was a disturbance. There were no innocents in Max’s universe, only wolves and what they fed on.… Continue Reading
Aside from saying odd catchphrases and singing random song lyrics, Andrew didn’t actually know how to functionally talk or have real conversations, he only said the same things over and over: the doughnut thing, lines from retro movies, choruses from heavy metal songs. It was like he was afflicted by lyrics and puns and corporate taglines.… Continue Reading