Category: My stories

Atlantis Rises

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Poseidon raises his mighty hand, oceans boiling with rage.
An ancient land rises from the deep once more.
“Atlantis,” growls the sea god. “How long has it been since I saw you fall?”
He wanders the water-logged streets, rotten wood and cracked piles of marble that were once stores, homes, and temples to his glory.
What was once beautiful and majestic, left in ruin by time.
Poseidon weeps, lowering his hand. The lost continent is lost once more.
He wonders aloud if he’s done this before.
Oh, Senile Sea God, like your temples, how the ages have ravaged your mind.

I’ve Got Spurs

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I’ve got spurs that jingle jangle jingle.
I wish I didn’t. Damn things are a dead giveaway for a cattle rustler.
They used to belong to a rancher, but he tried to catch me rustling his cattle and-
That’s right. I heard the spurs from a mile off.
They looked so nice, couldn’t leave them behind.
I should have sold them off, or dug a hole and buried them.
The Rangers have me pinned in this canyon. It’s night, but I can’t escape.
Bullet in my shoulder, bleeding slow.
I’ll die with my boots on.
And these damn, noisy spurs.

Blue Ear Wax

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Everybody knows you’re not supposed to stick a cotton swab down in your ear canal to dig stuff out, but we all do it anyway.
You gently swirl it around in there, even though eardrums will rip no matter how gentle you are.
The cotton swab comes out and…
It’s blue.
Usually, you can expect some yellow or tan ear-wax, but blue?
What could you have stuck in your ear that was blue?
Why don’t you remember?
Do you dig in there deeper?
Do you call the doctor?
Or…
This is why there’s cotton at either end of the swab.

The Trail

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I walk the mountain trail, my rage builds as I pick up each and every empty candy wrapper or soda can.
This path was once beautiful, just a simple trail winding its way upward.
Then, someone got it in their mind to simplify it and pave it and stick vending machines at either end.
The trash barrels are always full, so every so often the wind blows off the top layer of trash back into the trail.
It’s quiet right now, just before dawn. There’s a faint breeze blowing through the leaves.
Pretty soon the tourists will come.
Damn them.

Childhood Squid

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When I was little, my grandfather took us to an old-fashioned Merry-Go-Round. It had hand-painted horses and lions and elephants and…
And a squid. A bright purple squid, its tentacles waving about, and its beak snapping along in time with the calliope.
My brother and I would fight over who’d get to ride it. My grandfather wasn’t much help, because he was Old School. He thought kids ought to fight over such things.
It took thirty-five years, but I’ve found that squid. It’s in a museum.
Keep an eye out for the guard, dear.
It’s my turn to ride now.

Spotters

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The last time I went to the beach, there were lots of watchtowers along the shoreline.
In every watchtower was a spotter, looking over the ocean for swimmers and surfers in danger.
The moment they spotted one, they raised the alarm.
Pretty soon, every watchtower raised their alarm, too.
Then… nothing.
“Don’t you have any lifeguards on duty?” I yelled up at the tower.
“Lifeguards?” yelled a spotter. “We’re too busy spotting. Besides, the public is all about perception of vigilance, not action.”
Since then, I’ve stayed the hell out of the water.
But then, so have the spotters, too.

Vampire News

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My neighbor is a very old German vampire. His English isn’t so good, so he’s always calling me over to explain things to him.
Tonight, it’s the news that’s confusing him.
“What is this NO BLOOD FOR OIL signs they carry?” he says, pointing at a war protest on the screen.
“They think this war is not worth the lives of the soldiers fighting it,” I said. “And they think it’s being fought for cheap oil.”
“Ah,” said the vampire. “I agree. Less blood for oil, more blood for Count Victor.”
He smiles, coughs, and goes back to watching golf.

Lucy

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Lucy couldn’t wait to take the bandages off, but the doctors said she had a week to go before they thought her eyes would be safe to check.
Her eyes… her kaleidoscope eyes.
At first the colors and reflections of reality were exciting and mesmerizing, but the fascination ended quickly as she found herself completely helpless to perform the most simple tasks: reading and walking around.
Dr. Odd patted her shoulder.
“One more week,” he said. “How would you like to listen to some music, Lucy?”
“Sure,” she said.
And on cue, Billy Shears began to play out of tune.

Party Girl

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Another night, another boring party.
Josie walked out into the hall, picked up her cell phone and dialed her answering machine.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
She was already starting to sweat.
Click.
How exciting.
Her message played in her ear. Same message she’d had on there since the day she bought it.
After the beep, she whispered the filthiest, most depraved phone sex message in the history of mankind.
Hanging up, she headed back to the bar.
Drank herself stiff.
When she came to in the morning, there was a message on the machine.
She played it.
Perfect.

Now

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When I visited Karen in the hospital for the last few months, Karen would catch me looking at my watch.
“Am I really so boring to be with?” she’d ask.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “It’s just a habit.”
And I’d take off my watch.
After Karen died, another watch arrived in the mail.
It was Karen’s.
It doesn’t have hands or a battery or anything in it.
Just the word “NOW” written on it.
At first, I found myself looking at it out of habit, but in time, I looked at it to remember.
I haven’t taken it off yet.