Sally Jackson is such a bitch. She acts like she owns the school or something.
Which she’s entitled to do, since she does own the school building.
Her grandfather built this mall a few years ago, but it didn’t do all that well.
Just as he was about to declare bankruptcy, a tornado hit the town, destroying everything.
The only thing left standing was this mall.
Instead of rebuilding all those buildings, the town just packed it all into the mall. So she owns the school.
And the clinic which we’ll put her in if she keeps acting like a bitch.
Category: My stories
The Traveler
The traveler became nervous as he saw the fog and shadows building along the path through the dark and strange woods.
Strange phantoms lived in these woods.
He looked up and saw the moon and stars through the clouds
Then the shadows all vanished
The traveler trembled with fear
Then another traveler crashed through the trees
Who are you? Screamed the traveler
I am you, he said
How
I am a time traveler, he said
He laughed and then left the traveler there to think about it
The traveler laughed crazily
He returned home
Ragged and trembling
From his journey
Crash
Despite the fact that Lieutenant Martin has horrible vision, he is the son of General Martin, so his application to Flight School was approved.
From day one, Junior’s been a bigger threat to our country’s air defenses than any foreign enemy.
He isn’t very good at landings, as you can see from this report on destroyed assets and casualties, but he does show an aptitude for packing and using his parachute, because it has deployed every time.
We’ll resolve this by sabotaging the ejection seat in his next solo flight.
Just hope that he doesn’t crash into your office building.
Jammed Up
Traffic. Jammed up solid.
Arthur brought his hands together with a clap, shouted YIELD!, and then pulled them apart quickly.
The cars in front of him flew to both sides of the street, clearing a path for him to drive through.
Only until after Arthur had passed through did people climb out of their cars or come out of their doors to survey the damage.
“Damn Wizards union,” muttered a taxi driver. His cab had been forced into a grocer’s sidewalk display of apples.
The insurance company wouldn’t pay for damages either.
He bought an apple and listened for sirens.
The Happiest Man
Looking at Walter, with this frown and slouch, you’d think he was an unhappy guy. But if you asked him, he’d say he is the happiest man on earth.
“But we’re on Mars,” I say.
Walter laughs. “I meant to say Mars. Force of habit.”
He goes back to working on whatever he was working on. Usually plans for expanding the biodomes or upgrading the existing footprint of the colony.
“Nobody likes to get displaced and moved for construction and upgrades. They bitch at me. But when it’s over, they thank me. I focus on that.”
And he laughs again.
My New Phone
The online store said that it would take 2 weeks to ship my new phone, but it arrived the next day, wrapped in butcher’s paper and bearing a hastily-scribbled label.
Inside the box, the phone was almost perfect, even if the cables and headset were sloppily wound-up.
There was also a note from my Secret Admirer, telling me I deserved the phone more than the guy she’d killed and taken it from.
Her number was in the address book.
“Call me.”
Instead, I called the police.
What if she admires someone else who wants a phone even more than me?
Good night, Elizabeth
The king’s daughter climbed into bed and closed her eyes.
“Good night, Princess Elizabeth” was composed by the Royal Music Guy as her personal lullaby, and the gentle strings and muted horns carried her into the land of dreams.
“She’s asleep,” signaled the Royal Music Guy to the orchestra. “Let’s go.”
Tuxedoed figures rose quietly from their seats and tiptoed out of the room.
“Why can’t she just listen to the song on an iPod?” asked the cellist.
“It’s a good gig,” hissed the bassoonist. “Don’t blow it.”
The Royal Music Guy whispered “Good night” and gently closed the door.
Pointers
In addition to a digital photo frame, I’ve mounted a laser pointer to the brace on my arm.
I can turn it on and wiggle it, to make the cats go crazy and chase it.
It runs on a pair of AA batteries so it lasts a long time. And the switch is a toggle, so I don’t need to hold down the button to keep the laser on.
I had a good time with it, until I fell asleep with my arm pointing out the window, flashing into the cockpits of airplanes landing at the airport two blocks away.
Negativity
After years of negative ads the citizens were so disgusted with politics that when Election Day rolled around, nobody showed up at the polls.
Not even the poll workers.
The media weren’t surprised at all, since they were so disgusted by the negativity, whoever hadn’t gotten time off for vacation or a faked-up medical emergency ended up chasing other stories besides the election.
Absentee ballots were completely absent.
Even the urban churches filled their buses with the faithful… and drove them to church to pray.
Washington and every state office was closed.
And people pretty much got along as normal.
Statistics
You know how statistics show that a gun kept in the home is 43 times more likely to be used on a member of the household than to be used in self-defense?
My cousin Fred lost his job a year ago. Since then, instead of searching for a job, he’s been on my couch, watching TV and stinking up the place.
Doesn’t help with the chores, either.
I can’t argue with statistics, so I shot him. 43 times.
Of course, I said it was in self-defense.
(Because you can’t clean a gun and have it go off 43 times accidentally.)