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RICHARD
Thin Ice
They told me I was skating on thin ice: that, one day, it would crack and I’d sink into the depths as a result of my foolishness.
I never listened to them. I was young and free-spirited; nobody was going to tell me how to live my life, and nobody had the right to tell me what to do.
I knew better than them.
Turns out, I didn’t. They were right, and I was wrong.
After the accident, they fenced off the pond, and put up notices saying ‘Danger: Thin ice’.
Nobody skates there now.
My cold, watery grave.
TOM
Too Smart by half
Billy was a precocious little prick. Most believed he was most likely to come to a bad end. He was the sort who told younger children Santa and the Easter bunny were made up by adult to con them into being good. Further he flaunted any nursey rhymes. he would proudly land his foot on every crack in the sidewalk. One day the universe was feed-up with the little M-F. When he stepped on Crack but it didn’t back his mother’s The sidewalk when medieval on his ass, broke him in half. Universe noted: that’s mother fucker’s back, putz.
843
Somewhere
I was born in the city but my parents thought moving to suburbs would be a wholesome environment for young children. Bad idea. The Suburbs sucked. At the tender age of six I was dropped in a place with no sidewalks. Rustic it was, countryfied. Problem you ask? Fear of God had been driven into me never leave the sidewalk into a street. cognitive dissonance, Hal 9000 landscape. Later in life it became the define element to my dwelling choices. Anywhere with sidewalk was fine by me. Yup lived in some pretty rough neighborhoods. Funny the stuff that defines us.
SERENDIPIDY
I wonder what will make you crack?
Will it be the electrodes to the genitals, pulling out your nails with pliers, or maybe the water torture will do the trick?
Or, perhaps you think those methods lack subtlety?
Maybe I should kidnap your family instead and send you their fingers through the post?
Or are you made of sterner stuff, well-schooled in the art of keeping silent, even under great adversity?
To be honest, it really doesn’t matter much to me… I already have the information I need.
I just want to torture you, for the fun of it!
NORVAL JOE
Something whistled past Billbert’s ear, followed a split-second later by the crack of a high-powered rifle.
Wide eyed, Buhmilda clutched her stomach and dropped to her knees. Another crack and Sabrina spun around, blood spurting from a wound in her thigh.
Mr. Trump (Buhmilda’s dog) ran and hid. The other guild members around the meadow fled.
Rapid fire followed Billbert as he grabbed Linoliumanda and shot straight up into the sun.
He angled back down to the forest and set her among the ferns.
“Are you okay, Mandi?” Billbert asked.
She nodded her head as shots continued in the meadow.
LIZZIE
It was an ancient building. The crack on the wall grew bigger. But he wasn’t going to let it crumble down on his watch. So, he filled the crack with cement. When the wall collapsed, he was in Aruba, sunbathing. Everyone was horrified. Cement? Apparently, bad cement, who would’ve thought. The horror! Who had done that? However, they did find a secret room with a long-lost treasure. So, he went back and bragged. Not a good idea. “But, what about the treasure? And a crumbling wall adds character!” He shouted while being dragged off to jail. To brag or not to brag.
PLANET Z
Every time I flex the finger in my left hand, I can feel a joint in the middle finger pop.
It’s not just an intermittent thing.
It happens every time I do it.
I open and close my hand a few times, pop pop pop.
It’s not a knuckle crack. It’s not loud.
It’s just something I feel.
I don’t know how long it’s been doing this, or what it means.
I never remember to tell the doctor about it.
I’m too busy with my weight, my diet, and everything else.
I just open and close my hand, and feel.