My brother buried me in the snow.
I was six, he was eight or nine.
He whacked me over the head with a snow shovel, dug a hole, and pushed me into it.
Then he covered me up with snow.
Thing is, I deserved it.
I had buried his rare metal toy soldier collection in the snow.
He whacked me on the head after I tried to find where I’d buried them, but I’d covered my tracks too well.
“We’ll find them when it thaws in the Spring, right?” I said.
That’s when he whacked me harder and buried me.

The Contest

The radio station held a contest.
Ten men sat up on a billboard and the last one up there would win a million dollars.
One by one, they came down until it was down to two men.
And that’s when the fight happened.
The whole town, watching the two men wrestle on the ledge of a billboard.
They threw punches and kicks and beat each other with their latrine buckets.
Both men fell from the ledge and struck the ground, dead.
The station split the prize in half, paid off the next of kin, and never ran a contest again.

The Rock God’s Smile

Once upon a time, back in the days of gods and monsters, Silas the Rock God lost his smile.
“Go!” shouted the Reverend Sasquatch. “Find the Rock God’s smile!”
His worshipers searched far and wide for it, but it was nowhere to be found.
“We must make him a new one!” shouted the reverend.
No dentist was worthy of the Rock God, so a blacksmith was called upon to forge a new smile from the finest steel.
“Here,” whispered the exhausted blacksmith, handing over the appliance.
The Rock God put it in his mouth, picked up his guitar, and grinned.

Silas the Madman

I once knew a crazy man who rode a motor scooter from a Greek island to Scotland.
He came down with cancer, and he figured that he could claim Scottish citizenship from his ancestry and get free medical care.
He sold everything, including his custom-made boots, bought the scooter, and made his way across Europe in flip-flops and jeans.
He posted photos of the beautiful scenery and his progressively-worsening toes, all bloody and sore from road debris.
Eventually, he got to Scotland, became a citizen, and was cured.
Until the he relapsed three years later and the cancer killed him.

She looks good in black

Black lipstick, black eyeshadow.
Black dye in her hair.
Everything she wore was black.
She looked good in black.
She even wore black to her three weddings.
And the three funerals for her late husbands.
Her furniture was white, with white wall-to-wall carpet.
She stood out like a burnt pixel on a television screen, a clot of hair in a bathtub.
She took three black betties and went to sleep.
The next day. I found her in the tub.
The coroner came and laid a white sheet over her.
“No,” I said. “Zip her up in a black body bag.”

Cat time

what is
daylight savings time
to a cat?
a happy cat
a cat has
a sleep time
a drink time
a sleep time
a lay in the sun time
a poop time
a sleep time
an eat time
a sleep time
and claw things time
oh and more
a sleep time
you have so many times
too many times
not enough time
for all your times
be more like cat
you sleep
you lay in the sun
you drink
you poop
you eat
you claw things
no more
nothing else
just do that
and you will be
happy like cat

Lifetime warranty

Bob bought a gun safe for his guns so he could lock them up so they’d be safe from burglars.
The gun safe came with a lifetime warranty.
The manufacturer would fix any issues free of charge.
One night, a burglar broke into Bob’s house, opened the gun safe, and shot Bob.
As Bob lay bleeding on the floor, he wondered how the burglar got his gun from the safe.
Bob’s son inherited the gun safe, but the manufacturer refused to fix the lock issue.
“The owner died, didn’t he?” they said. “His lifetime’s over, and so is the warranty.”

Not everyone is as spiteful as I am

After she quit her job, she left the tree in her office.
The one I gave her as a wedding present.
In fairness, she did take the clock and the pitcher I gave her.
So, it wasn’t something out of spite.
Just convenience.
I could ask her. I have her address, right?
But I won’t.
I dragged the tree to the hallway.
It’s outside our office pod door.
The red birdie sits in the branches.
I squeeze it, and the batteries still work.
The shrill chirp of the cardinal rings through the hallway.
I smile, and go back to work.

The quiet birthday

I knew I’d fall asleep before she got home.
So, I wrapped up the shirt she wanted, left the package next to the jar with the flowers I picked up at the grocery store, and leaned a pair of cards from me and the cats against them.
By the time I woke up, she was already asleep.
It’s like this, so often. Living alone together.
On the weekends, we’re quiet.
Football or baseball or basketball or something on the television.
She reads, I’m online doing something or another.
As long as the cats get fed, they don’t mind at all.

Wish for the sun

if the sun explodes now
right now
it will take eight minutes
for us to realize that it has exploded
it takes eight minutes
for light to travel
from the sun to us
we won’t know sooner
because nothing travels faster than light
even if we surrounded the sun
with satellites
it would take eight minutes
for the radio signals
to travel
so, any time you’re stuck somewhere
and wish that the sun would explode
right now
to end it all
you’ve got another eight minutes of that shit
wish for the sun
to have exploded eight minutes ago.