Tag: fantasy

Worms, dance with me!

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I dance among the worms.
They writhe and twist in the moonlight, swaying in the mist that covers the grass.
I writhe and twist with them, and the grass feels cool against my naked skin.
“Let’s go to the lake,” I tell them, and the worms writhe in agreement and we crawl across the yard to the water’s edge.
Down in to the water I go, my body fills with it. But the worms stay on the shore and wait for my return.
Down… down… down to the bottom of the lake. To the very bottom.
Where I stay.
Forever.

Thou Shalt Not Kill The Messenger

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It’s an amazing thing, watching God bend beams of light into unusual shapes in the heavens.
Every night, I sit at the observatory and watch that corner of the cosmos fold and twist.
Of course, I can’t be certain that it’s God doing this, but if it is God, it looks like He’s writing some sort of message.
The problem is, He’s writing it in a manner that makes it impossible for us to read.
From Earth, it’s edge-on sideways.
Is He challenging humanity to explore outer space so we can read it, or…
Does He not know we’re here?

Let Him Dangle

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Kathy bought 78 canvases a few weeks ago.
It’s for a project of hers – she wants to paint the Tarot.
She could paint them up from memory, but she’s insisting on posing me as a model.
This week, we’ve been doing The Hanged Man.
Kathy may be having fun, but it really sucks to be me.
The blood rushes to my head and gives me migraines. Then I got rope burns on my ankle… until the rope came loose.
The studio has concrete floors… ouch!
But if you think this is bad, the next card’s the Ten Of Swords.

Remember To Forget

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“You have one wish left,” said the genie.
“Huh?” I said.
Where am I? What’s going on?
I was standing in an alleyway, dirty lamp in my hand with a genie sticking out of it.
“What do you mean ‘one wish left?'” I asked. “Did I have others?”
“Yes,” said the genie. “You had three.”
“Did I?” I said, scratching my head. “I don’t remember that at all. Jesus, I wish I could remember what I wished for.”
The genie vanished, and I remembered that my second wish was to forget my first.
I wish I could forget it again.

Spork Girl

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Jenny got rejection notices from Teen Titans.
“Rejection is a part of life,” said her mother, comforting Jenny. “Come on, show me again what you can do.”
Jenny put a fork in one hand, a spoon in the other, and then put her hands behind her back.
“Abracadabra,” she said.
When she brought her hands back in front of her, she revealed the spork.
“Do you have to do that with the nice silverware, Jenny?” asked her mother. “Can’t you just do that with the plastic picnic spoons and forks?”
Jenny cried and ran to her room, slamming the door.

Payback’s a Colossal Bitch

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Lady Liberty wanted to weep as she watched the towers burn.
Later that night, she pried loose the Emma Lazarus poem at her feet and read it for the first time.
Disgusted, she tossed it into the harbor.
“Go somewhere else, huddled masses,” she grumbled. “Pollute someone else’s shore.”
After careful thought, she decided to keep the torch and book.
The torch came in handy for seeing threats at night.
The book was great for whomping them.
After a few assaults on passing ships, the government shut the island down for “Security reasons.”
Eventually, she slept, and the tourists returned.

Christmas Trolls

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The day after Christmas, Santa’s elves partied and celebrated another year’s work finished.
On the other side of the North Pole, Santa’s trolls were dealing with returns, damaged toys, injury claims, technical support, and instruction booklets in the wrong language.
“Fucking elves!” growled the Head Troll. “Those twerps get the credit for shipping crap, but we’re the ones having to clean up after them.”
“Let’s strike,” said a few of the trolls, and they grumbled agreement.
At first sign of revolt, Santa stomped into the Troll Barn with a bullwhip and a bullhorn.
“Back to work, you sonsabitches!” he shouted.

The Skylords Ball

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“Skylords wear metal heels, the clouds their dance floor.”
This is what we tell our children on Zeus during the storm season.
Lightning and rain covered the land, so we moved underground to the shelters.
I tucked Shoshona into her cot, said the prayers.
She asked me if the Skylords’ dance would ever stop.
“I’ll ask them again, but you could write them a note,” I said.
“How will they get it?” she asked.
“Tie it to a balloon so it will float up to them,” I said.
She clutched Rascal Bear tightly, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.

Pee Wee’s Hellhouse

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Pee Wee Herman always said “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Decades past his prime, Paul Reubens looked in the mirror and agreed.
Behind him, talons clacked on the coffee table. “So, Reubens,” said the Devil. “Do you agree to my terms?”
The contract was signed, and his youth was restored.
“Now I can finally stage my comeback! HAH!” shouted Paul, prancing happily in a circle. “Wait – what do you get out of this, Satan?”
“I can think of no worse torment for humanity than you on the airwaves,” said Satan.
And then he headed for Pauly Shore’s home.

Shadow Birthday

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When Bob had his birthday birthdays, he always shared it them with his shadow.
Happy Birthday, Bob!
All of Bob’s friends would come over for cake and ice cream, and so did their shadows for the shadows of cake and ice cream.
Bob blew out the candles, and so did his shadow on the wall.
It was a race between Bob and his shadow to see who could open presents faster. It was always a tie.
Sometimes there was a goofy clown. Other times, a magician showed up to work his magic.
One year, a strange man came to make interesting shadow puppets.
The shadows of Bobby and his friends were entertained by the hands of the puppet-master.
Why? Well, since when have you seen a rabbit or duck turn into a pair of writhing hands?