Friday, November 24, 2006
run. down
Henry didn't understand what he saw. He pulled a branch from the tree and poked at it. Still fresh. The fur was soft, and gave when pushed, but not too far. Using the stick, he pried the fur and skin up away from the wound, and saw even more gears. On his hands and knees, nose to nose with the cute little corpse, Henry could see. It was a mechanical squirrel.
By the time he reached home, he'd torn open a dozen trees and shrubs, several cats and two birds. in spite of their protests, all were mechanical, artificial.
Henry sat down at his kitchen table, and thought for a moment about what he had discovered. He looked at his thigh, wondered what he might find inside. His skin gave when he pushed the knife in, but not too far.
Friday, November 17, 2006
just. don't. panic
Nothing was wrong. At first Stephanie thought the massive granite slab had shifted, but it must have just been dust kicked up from her hands. Did it feel tighter, now? She knew the passage would be small even for her. That must be it.
Everything was fine. She hadn't been able to move in over an hour. The passage opened up just beyond her feet, she remembered. Must have pinched a nerve, she thought, since her legs wouldn't move when she asked them to. Breathing was getting difficult, the air so far down must be stale.
No need to worry. There was a whistling sound every time she tried to take a breath, and it felt wet. Down inside somewhere. Her fingers had turned blue, and the color was growing up along her arms. These caverns are freezing, she knew. It must just be getting to her. It had been six hours, after all.
Think positive. Think. Think? She couldn't remember what that word meant. When she tried to laugh, the loose cracking of her ribs reminded her not to. Had she nodded off again? It was so dark, even her watch wouldn't glow anymore. Dried blood caked her face and mouth, but there was a lot of wet all around her. That was good, right? That was good. Good. Positive thinking.
Monday, November 13, 2006
bad habits
On the run for a murder they did not commit, two small time bank robbers with nowhere else to hide, were mistaken for a priest and a nun. Every week, they found themselves in increasingly implausible situations, forced to help people with a wide variety of problems, while at the same time ducking the local sheriff, and an annoyingly suspicious but consistently clueless Mother Superior. Constantly forced to come to grips with their own selfishness and immorality, their situations almost always ended with an important lesson being learned, usually tied to a specific scripture in the bible.
Candi couldn't get past the strange feeling that they were being watched. Especially on Tuesdays. Around nine o'clock. Central time.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Halloween. for the pretty people.
Zach was on his knees, buried in candy and cakes. He had a cupcake in his mouth and was busily trying to stuff in another one. Empty wrappers crackled underfoot, dozens or hundreds. He loved doing this. He could binge for days, yet his sculpted abdomen, his chiseled jaw, would remain maddeningly unchanged.
His money, he could throw into the wind, carelessly drain accounts on a whim. Yet always, he would find twice as much the next day, as if on his doorstep wrapped in a bow. At his most destructive, Zach would always crawl out the other side, prettier and richer. Perfection would only flourish.
Zach hungrily chewed on three candy bars at once. He chased it down with the last of a thousand dollar bottle of scotch, and laughed.
