Judith, again, turning her head over her shoulder just before she disappears around the corner. It is cold, but with a tepid wind in the canyons of the greater metropolis. I can feel the wind knife around that mysterious corner, that exit from stage center, and she has disappeared into it - extant but extorted … Continue reading Day Eighteen – 15 Reasons Why the Person Next to You Will Likely Burst Into Flames
Month: March 2020
Day Seventeen – His Most Holy Purveyor of the Remedy to My Madness
"Lift your eyes to the light above you. The cleansing god of ages descends to this mortal coil in fury, and, for our future, he brings tidings of empty joy. This ground upon which we quiver, cowering on bent knee, praying for deliverance is not ours. We came to this land, and toiled in its … Continue reading Day Seventeen – His Most Holy Purveyor of the Remedy to My Madness
Day Sixteen – Numbness in the Toes
Metal men and bloodsucking aliens would be preferable. There are hints of lavender in the sky among the oranges and pinks. Thomas likes lavender. Thomas's sweater is coming unraveled. On this day, Thomas rises from his bed and begins to unravel himself from life, from responsibility, and from the oppressive gaze of the okapi skeleton … Continue reading Day Sixteen – Numbness in the Toes
Day Fifteen – A Public Apology for Events That Occurred on Easter 1993, Wolverhampton, UK
Time is running out and this is the zero hour. For you, the reader, it takes just a few seconds to make a lifetime of difference in the life of someone else, and I am politely asking you, if you are a fan of mad science, cacophony, and imminent destruction, to please donate even a … Continue reading Day Fifteen – A Public Apology for Events That Occurred on Easter 1993, Wolverhampton, UK
Day Fourteen – Counting Backwards From Zero While Drowning
Defeat. Breath stutters. Fingertips tickle snow. Just beside, a body. Not deceased, no, not yet. Depressed perhaps, and languishing in doubt. He sees his reflection in skies above. Like the stone he is, he remains patient. A spear extends from his chest, a war wound. As he breathes shallowly, he hears the sound of battle. … Continue reading Day Fourteen – Counting Backwards From Zero While Drowning
Day Thirteen – Twisted Machinations of the 5th Street Mediocre Virtuoso
Nash has just been punched in the face for the first time. The feeling is like falling from the top of a lighthouse, but finding yourself mired in the beam, suspended above the crashing waves in a blinding light, while orbiting the spire of the lighthouse itself at mach speed. His neck snaps back, jostling … Continue reading Day Thirteen – Twisted Machinations of the 5th Street Mediocre Virtuoso
Day Twelve – Marzipan Cottage For Sale
In the early hours of the fifteenth day of August, several men accosted a local doctor on the dirt road, more adequately described as a game trail during that particular season, between Harris township and Bixby's Box. The bandits, four in total, shot Dr. Malcom Renn in the throat and left him for dead in … Continue reading Day Twelve – Marzipan Cottage For Sale
Day Eleven – Supplementary Notes on Gergot Maxim’s 352-Minute Film Entitled “Though Babies Wept and Wretches Bent” As First Orally Related to Kimberly, His Wife, Over an Excessive Third Cup of Lapsang Souchong
Andrew Offal, a businessman of some repute - ill in some circles, vague in others - had excessively high hopes for his eldest daughter. This was evidenced in the fourteen million dollars he had spent on genetic optimization while she floated oblivious to his desires in the womb. Offal had also put at least three … Continue reading Day Eleven – Supplementary Notes on Gergot Maxim’s 352-Minute Film Entitled “Though Babies Wept and Wretches Bent” As First Orally Related to Kimberly, His Wife, Over an Excessive Third Cup of Lapsang Souchong
Day Ten – Bromance of the Three Colonies
Alacamians are spider-like by our human standards. The alien race typically has a spherical central body with an apparently random number of appendages extended from it. Ancient Alacamian culture once revered those of its ranks with the largest number of appendages, and shunned those with the fewest - though, that has changed in recent millennia. … Continue reading Day Ten – Bromance of the Three Colonies
Day Nine – Biggles Splits the Atom and Other Quaint Tales of Death
Daphne rises out of bed, leaving it still occupied as she does so, and drags her toes in graceful steps towards the bathroom. The light was left on through night, and she cannot recall if it was herself--perhaps the scotch-drunk male in her bed--who had last visited the tiled closet. She kicks a pile of … Continue reading Day Nine – Biggles Splits the Atom and Other Quaint Tales of Death
Day Eight – The Dangers of Navigating Safety Nets With Ice Skates
When I was younger, long before the trauma of being devoured whole by the swamp god who protects us had worn off, I had a disturbing dream. I remember how I was situated in my makeshift bed that night. I had found a nice mossy patch to act as a pillow as I rested my … Continue reading Day Eight – The Dangers of Navigating Safety Nets With Ice Skates
Day Seven – So Low for Mighty
The evening of the event in question, though mild by comparison in its waning hours, began in tones of frigidity - so much so, that one could smell one's own snot gathering inside one's nostrils. Harry had just shaved his beard off after thirty years of the same. It was the kind of new cold … Continue reading Day Seven – So Low for Mighty
Day Six – In Remembrance of Palms
Captain Toliver has three weeks to consider how to handle the demon aboard his ship. For seven months after leaving the last of the Tunisian ports their employer required them to sack, the crew has unsuccessfully attempted to jettison the razor-mawed trickster into the murky waters of their passage. For seven months, the jack-bandy denizen … Continue reading Day Six – In Remembrance of Palms
Day Five – Wednesday’s Positronic Void
My dreams have taken a turn to the aweless waste. When formerly I could traverse the dreamscape of candywine waterfalls and purple glory sunrises with consistency, the night journeys have descended into the dimensions of the mundane. And excessively so, my waking life begins to beg the attention I normally reserve for the infinite. Long … Continue reading Day Five – Wednesday’s Positronic Void
Day Four – When Little Mikey Ate the Ampersand
Over the years, it has come to our attention that while productivity appears, on the surface, to have exceeded our expectations in the long run, waste now exceeds all things. I put it to you that we should build bigger bins. Starting this week, in all of our facilities, one-thousandth of the space now in … Continue reading Day Four – When Little Mikey Ate the Ampersand
Day Three – Put On Your Corporate Oligarchy Homburg, and Give Us a Grin
If automobiles are passing you on the right hand side, you could very well be in the wrong lane. If you are passing ambiplasmic layers, you either do not live on our planet or you need to stop listening to Alfvén and Klein so much. There are days when I find it difficult to coax … Continue reading Day Three – Put On Your Corporate Oligarchy Homburg, and Give Us a Grin
Day Two – Seguidilla
Extra legs do not make a better dancer. Did you know that dinosaurs are just a figment of your imagination? Do you realize that the Fornax Cluster is just a carefully orchestrated ruse to confuse you into thinking that the Earth is not the center of the universe? The twinkle is a lie. I feel … Continue reading Day Two – Seguidilla
Day One – But First, Hubris
[Revisited and Revised from its original state as published six years ago] My name is Richard. Some people shorten that to Rich, and I happily answer to that. When I was eight years old, I decided I wanted to be called Rich, and that stuck for at least ten years before circumstances led me to … Continue reading Day One – But First, Hubris
Slayer of the Winter, art thou here again?
I've never been a January resolutionist. I mean, honestly, I've tried, I just fail repeatedly. There's something overly oppressive about January and February that just impedes progress for me. Perhaps it's the cold, the fewer hours of sunlight, or the usual gap between holidays that afford me a day off from work and school. Most … Continue reading Slayer of the Winter, art thou here again?
Godhood of the Infinitesimally Small 