Lisa’s parents knew what would be on the Christmas List.
The same thing she’d asked for every year: a baby brother.
Her birth had been difficult. The doctors had performed a hysterectomy to stop the bleeding.
And her parents didn’t want to adopt or hire a surrogate.
“You’re plenty enough,” they said to Lisa.
So, she took matters into her own hands.
Sure, the paper said it was an electrical short from the tree.
Lisa said she saw smoke, rescued the neighbor’s baby first, couldn’t go back in because of the flames.
Just wait until she wants a baby sister.
Category: My stories
Downsizing
Remember “Peace on Earth, Good Will To All Men?”
Well, there’s a new phrase making the rounds this holiday season: “Do More With Less.”
Everybody’s suffering. Even Santa’s workshop.
He laid off a bunch of elves. Elf unemployment’s awful The cookie and shoe manufacturing industries have been automating production and moving factories to China.
He doesn’t need the reindeer either. Now he just delivers stuff through Fedex or UPS, whatever’s cheapest.
Pretty soon, he’ll just do it all through Amazon or iTunes.
Mrs. Claus wants to retire to Florida.
Real estate’s cheap there.
And not a fucking frozen wasteland, either.
Everybody wants
I remember when the Christmas gift that everybody wanted was a new electronic toy or gadget.
Teddy bears that played storytelling tapes.
Video games.
Plastic spiders you could throw at the wall and watch them crawl down it.
As computing and materials sciences advanced, so did the latest and greatest holiday gifts.
Everybody wants it. And so do you.
Now that things have taken a turn for the worse, you’re lucky to get clothes, used or new.
Or, for the truly desperate, somewhere warm to sleep…
No, the world doesn’t end with a bang or a whimper, but Christmas carols.
Summertime
As you freeze your ass off in the dead of Winter, someone down in Australia is working on their tan in the peak of Summer.
The doctors look over your fingers to see how bad the frostbite damage is.
You’ll recover. Just get better gloves for the next time.
The Australian, however, won’t know about the spot on her back for months.
By then, it’ll be too late. The melanoma will have spread into her lungs and pancreas and…
It’s hard to dig a grave in winter.
What do you care? You’ll be on the beach, tanning.
Need some sunblock?
Outsourced
Up until now, I helped move call center jobs to India.
But that wasn’t enough for the shareholders, and they wanted more return on their investment.
So, I worked with a friend at Temporal Labs, and we started up a helpdesk based on workers in the future.
“It’s a quantum tunnel communications channel,” I said. “Expensive, but permanent. The great thing is, they know how things turn out in the future, so they can send answers back to us.”
I guess leaving our debts to our grandchildren wasn’t enough. Now we make them answer all of our stupid questions, too.
Seeds
On the eve of her return to the land of the living, Hades thanked Persephone for her company.
He handed her a map with some wine and food, in case she got hungry along the way.
The next morning, Persephone began her journey.
It took longer than the journey to Hell, and she sat by a stream to rest.
She drank some wine, ate some food.
Then she realized: it was the rest of that apple.
“Six more seeds,” grinned Hades. “That makes twelve. The world is mine.”
Far above them, leaves turned brown again, and snow began to fall.
Imagination
I’ve been told that when you turn 100, The King of the World grants you a wish.
Every day, I imagined what he’d look like. He grew more magnificent each day, silken robes and a golden crown with shining gems.
Until, one day, he was there. At my hundredth birthday.
“Make a wish,” he said.
“To be young,” I replied.
He laughed. “You imagined me all your life. As youth is imagination, so then you are young.”
I blew out the candles on my cake, watching the smoke twist and curl into flying dragons and magnificent castles in the clouds.”
Same Shit, Different Asshole
Election Day is over, and we’re sending a new guy to Washington.
The old guy, who never did anything, packs his stuff and comes home.
The new guy is full of enthusiasm and ideas, and he gets immediately to work.
Well, not yet. He needs new furniture for the office. He has to hire a staff. He has meetings to attend.
When he’s ready to sit down and get to work, he gets up and… heads off on the campaign trail.
It wears him down, and after a few terms, he’s accomplished nothing.
The old guy laughs at us.
Suckers.
Macarena
Jose Menendez was known far and wide as The King of The Macarena.
He was constantly putting his hands on his hips, jumping, and turning from morning to night.
Then, one day, he was doing the dance up on a bar and slipped on some spilled peach Margarita mix, and hit his head on the floor, putting him into a coma.
His living will said to play his Macarena tape by his bedside. If he didn’t get up and dance, pull the plug.
So, we did. And he lay there still.
We pulled the plug… on that damn tape player.
Sleep Disorder
After a battery of tests, the doctor gives Jose the results: he suffers from somnambulism, walking around in his sleep.
Jose scratches his head. “How?”
And he pats the handles of his wheelchair. “I can’t walk.”
“Only when you’re awake,” says the doctor. “But when you’re asleep, you walk around.”
Jose remembered the car crash, the surgeries, and getting the bad news: “You’ll never walk again.”
He told them then that he’d prove them all wrong.
“I guess I have,” he mumbled.
“I’ve got good news,” said the doctor.
“What?”
“You’re also a narcoleptic, Jose. More time for walking, right.”