Stories. My stories. (Not all them of them are fiction.)
A foul cloud of yellow-green smoke moved slowly down the alley. Dogs ran from it, howling and barking as if chased by demons. Children wailed as it passed, their eyes stinging and their skin blistering. Those fast enough to shutter their windows were spared the worst of it. But cracked wooden shutters with open seams did not provide complete protection, so nearly everyone in…
The door was locked, the key tossed over the wall and into the night. His brother and the rescued hostages were safe on the other side, headed for the waiting boats and their escape. Tetsuo turned and faced the dozen warriors amassed before him. Some of them stood with their jaws slack, amazed at the sacrifice of this lone samurai. Two of the swordsmen…
Skipper Jonas Grumby finds this old tiki idol and believes he’s under the “curse of Kona.” Only the powerful witch-doctor Watubi can save him. Skipper is rendered nearly mad by his fear of the curse, his senses so distorted that he does not recognize Gilligan dressed up as Watubi. Nor does he realize the exorcism Gilligan performs is sheer nonsense. But then caucasian sea captains…
“What are you doing for Christmas?” Shorty asked me. “Same thing I do every year. Nothing.” “Do you celebrate the solstice?” I do celebrate the solstice, but I lied and told him I didn’t. “My wife used to celebrate the solstice,” Shorty told me.
“So how did it go on Friday?” “Pretty good. Dinner, drinks. Then she wanted to go back to my place.” “That makes things easier.” “Except in the morning, it’s either driving or cab fare.” “You’re a gentleman.” “Not really. But I have my standards.” “So did she stay the night?” “And then some.” “What do you mean?” “She woke me in the morning, if…
“I believe I will write a novel.” He was sitting in a pool of sunlight recovering from the weekend when the old priest suddenly made this declaration. He said nothing in retort. The sun was too warm for it. It was the rare winter day that was like this. Outside his private pool of sunlight the world swam cold and blue like the oceans…
As he finished putting gas in the car, she asked if she should buy more water. He said it was up to her. It depended on whether she wanted to die of thirst or over-hydration. On the way there she asked if she could listen to talk radio. He didn’t mind, he told her, as long as he didn’t have to hear it. Silence…
I have this idea for a story that is a recursion. In computing, a recursion is a function which repeats itself. It’s like that old kids joke, Pete and Repeat. You say to a friend, “Pete and Repeat were sitting on a fence. Pete fell off. Who was left?” And your friend says, “Repeat.” And you repeat the joke. I have this idea for…
Once upon a time Charming Billy asked me, “If you could pick one song to sum up your life, what would it be?” “I don’t know that any one song could sum up my life,” I told him. “I’d need something epic, something like Stairway without all the mystical bullshit, Free Bird without all the sentiment. What about you?” We both thought about it.…
Act 1. Scene 1. THE TOURNAMENT FIELD LORD FANCY and MAN are watching the tournament from the Royal Box Seats. Two armored knights fight with wooden swords; each defends with a wooden shield. On the shield of one knight is a red cross over a white field. The other knight’s shield is a green field with three brown ovals. FANCY: Who is this one…