I never understood the concept behind the Advent Calendar.
To me, it was just an overpriced fancy package of candy.
Not really much of a calendar, because you shred the numbers to get to the candy, and once you eat the first one… there’s always the second one… and third… and fourth…
Pretty soon, you’re sitting there on the first of the month, face covered in chocolate, and the whole calendar’s been torn to shreds.
There’s supposed to be Bible verses in there, something to do with the shapes of the candy treats?
Whatever. Hand me another calendar.
I’m hungry.
Category: My stories
The Not So Merry Go Round
Here we sit on the merry-go-round.
Where some aren’t so merry at all.
Some kids are reaching for brass rings.
Others hold on and laugh.
And then there’s those crybabies, clutching with fear and screaming:
Moooooooooommmmmmmyyyyyyyy!
I’ll just sit on the bench, wondering.
All those tattoos on the arm of the operator.
The smoke oozing out from the machinery.
The gears grind louder.
Which the music almost covers up.
It’s a lot happening at once.
I just want to sit here on the bench.
And watch everything go by.
And listen to the music.
With a few folks, humming along.
The Stone Church
We founded the church on Peter, commanding the funeral masons to shape and polish his remains into a single massive cornerstone.
The Ancestors are hauled from The Garden of Memories, and they are also used as building blocks for the church.
Soon, The Birthing Mine is producing more blocks for the church than children. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I saw a young stoneman walking about.
The Teachers, replaced by the priests as the authorities of our land, were commanded to volunteer themselves for quarrying.
Some resisted, and they were pulverized to provide pebbles for the walkways.
The Vault
I haven’t seen Mother in years, but one day I’ll remember the combination to the lock on the vault I put her in.
I thought about calling a locksmith, but that would just put him in danger of mother.
And me as well, I suppose, since it has been a while since I last drank.
She used to scream so loud, you could hear her through the thick iron door. But now, she’s far to weak and frail from the thirst to make a sound.
And if I let her out, I know I will be punished for this… naughtiness.
Timeshifted
When the time machine exploded, the research team told you I was dead, my atoms scattered throughout history.
I was badly hurt, sure, but there’s great medical care in the future. All kinds of advanced Star Trek stuff here.
You can hardly see the scars from where they regrew my arm, and this new eye is as good as the old one… even better, with the anti-aging treatments.
If only you’d have held on. They could have cured that cancer.
Instead, I wasn’t there to help you though it.
You killed yourself, and I’m laying a flower on your grave.
Charity Begins Somewhere Else
Every year, we set up a tent in the middle of the city.
The smell of freshly-roasted turkey, baked stuffing, and sweet potatoes fills the air.
This brings out the homeless, lonely, and poor in droves.
We invite them in and they sit down.
We make them wait for a while.
When they’re good and hungry, we ask them to bow their heads and then we feed them…
Into massive circus cannons.
We launch them everywhere… into the river, out into the dump.
Pretty much anywhere but here.
Good riddance.
Then, we sit down and eat our own Thanksgiving meal.
Look In The Mirror
I pour the white dust out on to the mirror and quickly chop it into lines.
One by one, they vanish up my nose.
I let the rush carry me for a minute and then sniff whatever I can off of the mirror before putting it away.
That’s when I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes are bloodshot.
My face is thin and gray.
I barely recognize myself. What have I done?
That’s the moment where I make the promise never to do it again.
I’ll never look at myself in the mirror after doing cocaine.
Uncle Artie
Uncle Artie was a man of the carnival. He traveled the country from coast to coast so many times, and there wasn’t a sucker’s dollar he couldn’t take.
When he died, his body was cremated and the ashes put into one of three urns.
His lawyer shuffled the urns around, and we chose.
Aunt Gladys came up empty.
Shuffle again. My dad thought he had it. Nope.
Unlike those two, Artie taught me all his tricks. I had the winner, and walked away with ten million dollars.
And his ashes.
(Don’t flush them all at once. They’ll clog the drain.)
The Missing Story
I read a bedtime story to Lisa every night.
It’s always a new story. She never wants to hear the same story twice.
She cries when I box up the story books to take to the used bookstore. She wants to keep them all.
Her bookshelf filled up quickly.
And three more I bought her.
The books are in piles from floor to ceiling, filling every closet and room.
I can’t get down the stairs to the basement anymore. It’s also full of books.
So, we switched to eBooks.
I read a story from the Kindle, and she falls asleep.
The Council
The Emergency Council of Hedgehogs was convened under the giant oak tree in the deepest part of the woods.
Panic ran rampant as teddy bears were stumbling around drunkenly after their picnic, grabbing hedgehogs and tossing them around.
It was decided that an emissary would approach the mommies and daddies of the teddy bears, pleading for help.
But instead of putting the teddy bears to bed to sleep off their stupor, the mommies and daddies got drunk and threw the hedgehog emissary around, too.
Angered, the hedgehogs burrowed deep under the giant oak tree and set the woods on fire.