Category: My stories

If Daedalus could build functional wings out of the debris strewn about in the Labyrinth, why couldn’t he just build a goddamned minotaur-killing machine?
Well, the truth is, that was his first project.
He gathered up the bones of the minotaur’s victims, wood, wax, feathers, and twine.
From these, he fashioned an elaborate minotaur-killing war eagle.
Winding up the device, it thrashed and flapped about.
Then, it flew out of the Labyrinth.
“Well, shit, Dad,” said Icarus. “I hope there’s material left for us.”
As we all know the story, there was.
Just not enough left over for emergency parachutes.

For years, I worked in an office without a window.
I liked the dark and the quiet.
And I thought I’d be scared of heights.
Every time I went into another office with a window, I’d look out the window and get vertigo.
So, I didn’t want an office with a window.
Then, when one was available, on a whim, I moved into a corner office with a lot of windows.
And I liked it.
It was bright on sunny days, and interesting on cloudy or rainy days.
The freeway traffic is like the ocean sounds.
I nap more easily.

Back in the old neighborhood, Aaron’s house was on the corner.
It was bigger than other houses, and had a kind of Addamms Family kinda feel to it.
He had a tuxedo cat named Cleo, and there was a spideweb by the front door with a black widow spider.
The way Cleo was, it was safer to try to pet the spider.
There were other kids on the block, and I remember going to their houses to play, and them coming to ours.
A few moved away, then we moved away, and it all looks so small on Google Maps.

Just because I am smart, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you are dumb.
Just because I am tall, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you are short.
Just because I am beautiful, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you are ugly.
Just because I am rich, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you are poor.
Just because I am thin, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you are fat.
Just because I am fast, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you are slow.
Just because I am alive…
Well… okay. You are, in fact, dead.
You dumb, short, ugly, poor, fat, slow fuck.
Good riddance.

Raoul and Esmerelda made such a nice couple.
But they could never be together.
Raoul says Taco Tuesday.
“My family has tacos every Tuesday! It’s tradition!”
Esmerelda says Taco Thursday.
“My family had tacos every Thursday! It’s tradition!”
They nearly broke up over it.
“Why not have tacos on Tuesday and Thursday?” said the town’s priest.
The crisis was over! The whole town celebrated as they planned their wedding.
On Sunday, of course.
Then, while on their honeymoon, they ordered tacos.
“Soft tortilla or hard shell?” asked the waitress.
They came home, and the town priest worked up the anulment.

Harry was a happy guy.
He kept a little black book with everybody’s name and what made them happy.
Some people knew what made them happy, and they told Harry.
Others kept it a secret because they were ashamed of what made them happy.
Harry didn’t judge. but he was persistent.
Eventually, everyone told Harry what made them happy.
Then, Harry would leave a letter on their doorstep.
No, it wasn’t what made the person happy.
It contained instructions on how to keep from being exposed.
Blackmail is such a dirty word, but it makes Harry happy.
And very rich.

Way back when, I was her babysitter.
I was eighteen, she was eight.
I kept her safe.
Ten years later, she comes to me,
Says she loves me. Always loved me.
I tell her no, and I leave her crying.
Every ten years, the same thing.
She comes to me, she loves me, has always loved me.
Well, then another ten years won’t hurt anything.
Decade after decade, she manages to find me.
You only get so much time.
And mine ran out.
I woke up to the smell of brimstone.
Will she follow me here, too?
I hope not.

In the Bible, it says that Daniel found himself in a cave with a lion.
And because he showed compassion to the lion by removing a thorn from its paw, the lion did not eat Daniel when the man faced that same lion in the Coliseum.
Or was it a mouse that removed the thorn?
It certainly wasn’t a thorn in a mouse’s paw. That’s silly.
Nobody throws people to the mice in the Coliseum.
Was it the Nemean Lion? I think that was Hercules.
Whatever. I’m going to lay down with this lamb and go to sleep.
Good night.

I went out for a walk.
I’m not taking a stroll.
How many calories is a stroll?
I asked my trainer.
Is it different than a walk?
Are you sure that’s a stroll?
My trainer asked.
I’ve got a chart if you need to check.
Walk, stroll, ramble, hike.
We went down the chart until we came across mosey.
Mosey doesn’t burn much calories, he said.
But I’ll give you points for style.
I updated my fitness tracker, had two fingers of sarsaparilla, and put on my 10 gallon hat.
Happy trails, said my trainer.
And I moseyed on out.

When they say to count your blessings, what units do you count them in?
Some blessings are bigger than others. And some last longer than others.
For example, Life is a blessing. A big blessing.
And the people that a blessing blesses, that can vary, too.
A cup of coffee is a blessing for the person that drinks it, but a coffee plantation is a blessing for all those who earn a living there.
Sometimes, a blessing for someone is a curse for another.
So pardon me if I say “fuck you” instead of “Bless you” for sneezing on me.