Sigh, "You know what, this just sucks." "It is what it is, Zane, no need to get upset." "Yeah, but, ya know... that happened, man." "Let it go, it'll all be fine, everything will be fine." They looked at the situation they and their friends are in, there's only one way to describe it, they all noticed it, but are too afraid to speak on the subject, don't even want to think about it, for a mere thought will shut it all dow...

The adolescent, Bloated Garabula Interstellar Beast, as he eventually and derisively came to be referred to by Garabulas and non-Garabulas alike, had gradually become exceedingly obese. Why? Simple. Twas because this particular Garabula Interstellar Beast, constantly loved to feast. No, the love of feasting was not unusual for his species. The shockingly enormous Garabulas, who were non-material, semi-amorphous creatures...

White Elephant is a game I have long detested because it involves stealing gifts from others. The game has been played at the annual Christmas Party for the past two years in a group I belong to. The first year White Elephant was played I did not go to the Christmas Party solely because the game was being played. The second year, this year, I pushed my morality reasoning aside and thought the party as a whole might be fun...

Winter white of my Queen’s desire the hunter of the night has come. She nods to me to let him in, and I do so without want of anything more. Upon his back he carries the skins and bones of coyotes hunted in the shadows of the tall forest pines, while the bear is left to sleep in his den of darkness beneath the stones, roots and grass so closely intertwined. He lays the hides upon the large, smooth stone alter along with t...

The huge man strode down the main road of Varan. His dark eyes glared as he looked around, watching for defenders. Battle Lord Jadek Prynn was taller than any of the other warriors fighting in the street. His heavyset body was a mass of muscles, scars, and tattoos. He held Blood Thief, his fabled long sword, ready in his hand. A line of Varanian spear men formed ahead of the Battle Lord, points lowered in his direction. P...

Is one's essence defined by the age of the body, their culture, economic status, or gender? What are we without the context of time, gender, and culture? Tara's mother underwent a metamorphosis. Mildred wore different costumes of the mind. Each costume was unique, stemming from a different time in her life and drawing upon various life experiences. Alzheimer's disease sponsored Mildred's time travel. Tara remembers Mildre...

What is it about memento mori, that she didn't understand? She was a good ol' dame but came up lame in the fast lane of life, knocking back nachos. Then came the corpse and the fairy in the morgue, that stole her love from Uncle Hurley. Harry is something unique and whacked his thingy off for a bluetail fly in his tackle box, alongside the pinto beans and home fries. Now cry me a river, as I watched Aunt Harriet rise. A l...

The recent haints in the turnip patches, rumored to be poultrygeist chickens, zombified. Possessed with a fetish for mooning late-night diners at the A&W. Frightening the bejesus out of local crawdads eaters. It just so happen, that last night, Jimmy Swaggart was there, putting the make on a bowl of grits. I am the local sheriff, and I take pride in enforcing this town's ordinances. I gave Swaggart a ticket for parking in...

Don't order filet mignon or pasta primavera at Waffle House until you tried Granny's entrée. It was on a Friday night, wringing the neck of a vampire chicken, with a mist of Aqua Net Super Hold, rising. Granny was serving Blackeye peas and jalapeno cornbread and finger-licking good. We were drinking from Mason jars. The liquid that is left behind after boiling greens or beans. Usually with a squeeze of crawdads wings to g...

Relegated to passenger status as my love prefers to take the wheel, I peer out my window and gaze upon the clouds. They always have some fascinating story to tell. Some days I see bunnies and bears frolicking about in the sky. But sometimes, the clouds tell a more ominous tale as my imagination takes over. The Dragon’s Tail is an ongoing narrative that began years ago when I was a little girl, lying on the front lawn on a...

In a seance with myself, not suffering ghost. But the dead get lonely. Just ask the next guy, parallel parked next to my stone. I seem to have all the symptoms of a decaying corpse with sagging flesh soaked in formaldehyde. Surrounded by rednecks and fools who squeeze the Ouija. Cemeteries are for wimps, bloating with gas, and playing Lotto with their Harley. Jesus doesn't have 76 tattoos to lead the Cheeto Parade. I am l...

Focus on the beauty, the geometrical phenomenon of frozen water in spectacular crystallized form. Each one appears different from the next and captivating to behold. And while these minuscule bits of ice appear white due to the diffuse reflection of the whole spectrum of light through each tiny facet, they are actually quite clear. As she sat staring out the window into the great expanse of snow, she allowed herself to dr...

I want to go on a road trip. That’s what I’m thinking as I lie on my bed and glance out at the suburban. A long one. I want to go to Sao Paulo and Buenos Aires and Bogota. I want to sit in a car for days and drive through the south of France, taking in the views and the scenes and the long, sunny beaches with the deep blue of the sea crashing in, where I can swim for hours and lie on my back and look up at the equally blu...

“And I hate that picture too.” He turned to look at the new target of her ire. “Lake Hintersee? But why? It’s beautiful.” “That lake was beautiful but that picture is just like you. It’s boring and empty. Your eye gets drawn to the dead centre. Dead, empty and soulless.” With that, she turned and picked up her coat. “I’ll be back while you’re at work to collect my stuff.” James stared at the closed door for what felt like...

I loved her chair. It was covered with material, olive-green and ribbed, and elasticated in a fascinating way. When you pulled it and released, it snapped back to the chair's frame, shooting out tiny clouds of dust like bombs. I could have done that for hours. Still would. It was her chair though, and when I picture her in it she is more sombre. It is the evening, when visitors have gone and the room is silent and lit by...