Category: My stories

The Overcoat

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For a century, Danny O’Bannon’s overcoat hung on a hook in O’Bannon’s Bar.
His great-grandson Timothy stared at it and then the contract on his desk.
Danny also liked to gamble, but Danny picked winners.
“Just sign it, Tim,” said the lawyers for the development company. “We’ll take care of the rest.”
Tim picked up the pen and wrote his name at the bottom of the contract.
When the lawyers left, Timothy put on the overcoat and looked for the old hurricane lantern.
One flick of the lighter, and the old bar was in flames.
And O’Bannon’s was no more.

The Voter

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The moron holds a ballot in his hand, looking down the list of names.
It doesn’t make a lick of difference. The moron does not know how to read.
He refuses to admit it, though. He’s too proud to admit it.
He also doesn’t watch the news on television. He likes to watch sports and movies.
As long as they don’t require much thinking, he’s fine. Never did like thinking much.
He steps into an open booth next to yours and begins to punch out his choices.
And in the end, his vote counts as much as yours.
Tragic, no?

The Day Ends

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Valentine’s Day comes once a year, and then it’s gone.
The flowers are dead, the chocolates are eaten, the champagne bottle is out in the recycling bin with the rest of the glass, and the card is buried behind the past few day’s stack of bills.
Still, it’s not as grisly a scene as when St. Patrick’s Day is over.
Half-empty kegs, beer-vomit and piss in the hallway, plastic cups on the lawn…
And then there’s the matter of the dead leprechaun.
I followed the rainbow, found his gold, stuck the little corpse in the pot, and buried it again.

Despise

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I despise you now, but one day, I will stop despising you.
You see, I plan on living forever, and once you meet your doom, there’s not much point in despising you, is there?
There will be so many new people, young and fresh, that will need despising and there’s no sense in wasting despise on the dead.
They’re, like, dead, you know? What’s the point in despising a dead person? It’s not like they can feel your despise.
I just wanted you to know.
Here’s your cheeseburger and fries.
Would you like some ketchup and salt for the fries?

Roll Out The Barrel

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As the band played the Beer Barrel Polka, we rolled out the barrel and propped it up.
Something shifted inside. Something solid.
We opened it up and found a corpse.
According to the wallet in his jacket pocket, he was Jimmy “The Fish” Muldoon, a heavy with the Chicago Mafia.
“So, what do we do?” said the tuba player. “Any ideas, guys?”
“Hey, it’s the Beer Barrel Polka!” I shouted. “Let’s roll out the barrel of fun!”
We tapped another keg and partied hard with Jimmy.
The next morning, we all envied Jimmy, being too dead to be hung over.

The Bag

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I am sitting on a park bench, and a really nasty, grizzled bum sits down on the park bench next to me.
He raises a paper bag to his face every few seconds.
I try to ignore him, but I just want to yell at the guy to go away… leave… go drink in some alley.
Before I can say anything, he takes the bottle out of the bag and offers me the bag.
“You look like you’re about to hyperventilate,” he says. “Breathe into this a few times and you’ll feel better.”
Then he gets up and walks away.

Cookiegammon

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I like to play backgammon, but instead of checkers, I use cookies.
You just have to make sure that the cookies are different colors. Otherwise, you can’t tell which are your cookies and which are mine.
If you like Nutter Butters, then I’ll use Oreos.
I like Oreos.
We can put the cookies on the board, roll dice, and play until it’s time to bear the cookies off.
Every cookie you bear off, you get to eat.
Yummy!
Of course, eating 15 cookies can make you feel really sick.
Now you know why I don’t play with a doubling cube.

The Milk of The Storm

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Why do people rush to buy milk before a snowstorm?
This, we do not know. The invaders stole and destroyed many historical tapestries, and the oral tradition is lost.
Still, when the weather gets cold and the radio says it will blizzard, we rush to buy milk.
Even the lactose intolerant. The urge is deep in our blood. It is second-nature, like sneezing or smiling at babies.
When the snowdrifts rise against windows, we sit in the dark, starting at the milk.
It just sits there… until we pour in cereal…
Like firecrackers! Gunshots!
FIESTA TIME!
Viva la breakfast resolution!

The Clock Struck

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Commissioner Gordon handed Batman the note.
“At half-past twelve, the clock stuck three,” said The Caped Crusader.
“What does that mean?” growled Chief O’Hara.
“I don’t know,” said Batman. “But it’s almost twelve-thirty now.”
Across the street, an explosion rocked the First City Bank Tower.
All three ran to the window, just as the building’s massive clock broke from its moorings and crashed through the office.
Batman. O’Hara. Gordon.
Dead.
Later that evening, Riddler and Joker divvied up the loot.
“I told you it would work,” said the Clown Prince Of Crime. ”Hey, let’s go kill Superman.”
They both laughed.

The River Ice

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One day, the river was flowing.
The next, the river was covered with a sheet of ice.
I have never watched a river freeze.
So, when I heard that the forecast called for a deep freeze, I got bundled up and headed out to the river to watch.
The temperature dropped quickly, and I could see my breath through the scarf.
Snow falls, I can see white on the riverbanks… then dark shapes in the dark, shimmering water.
My eyes are heavy with the cold, but I still watch.
The shimmering water slows, until…
Until I have frozen to death.