Safety pin

After Trump won the election, a lot of people didn’t feel safe.
Gays. Blacks. Illegal immigrants. Muslims.
So, someone suggested that people wear safety pins to show that they’re safe.
Never mind that they’re kinda hard to see from a distance.
And anyone can put on a safety pin, even if they’re not safe.
What if you see a safety pin on a Klan robe?
Or on the beret of a New Black Panther?
Me, I’ll look for a policeman’s badge.
And if I’m doing something that makes me fear the police, I deserve whatever I have coming to me.

Summer at the beach

Every summer at the beach, Dad and I would assemble a box kite, and fly it over the dunes.
Just as his dad did with him.
And I do with my kids.
And my kids will do with theirs.
When the kite is too worn or damaged to fly, a new one is assembled.
When the father is too worn or damaged, the staff try to repair him, blowing sand from his gears.
And if they can’t, a new one is assembled.
Same with the kids.
The tourists take photos with their smartphones.
And buy box kites, and fly them.

Good morning, Maria

Maria turned off the water in the shower, slipped, fell, and broke her neck.
“Good morning,” said the mirror. “I’ve selected an outfit for you today.”
Robots pulled the proper bins from the basement up to her bedroom closet.
“I’ve determined the best hairstyle to go with it.”
The groomer system dried and styled her hair into place.
Finally, the mirror suggested a makeup look that would complement that outfit.
An applicator came out of the wall, and covered her face.
“Close your eyes,” said the mirror.
The mirror repeated its request for hours before it called Maintenance for assistance.


We bring slaves and prisoners to the Gorgon’s island.
They chew the petals of the bliss flower, and fall into a dreamy stupor.
So many pretty colors and sounds and spells.
Follow them! Chase them!
They wander the island, laughing and smiling and then…
The Gorgon awakens, and crawls out of her cave.
One by one, she finds the intruders, gazing into their eyes, and turning them to stone.
Gorgon pulls some weeds from the ground, chews them, and crawls back to her cave.
We drag the statues back to the boat and set sail.
The king will pay handsomely.


The monks bend over the floor and rub styluses against their sticks of colored chalk.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
Slowly, the wheel forms, and together they create intricate symmetrical whorls and loops and bends and curves.
The monks hum and chant as they build the patterns.
Not once do they speak. Only through their prayers do they keep the flow.
They change direction all at once, like a flock of birds shifting in the wind.
Coming closer at the center, scratching circles of shifting color.
And then, they finish.
The master nods, takes out a broom, and sweeps the chalk away.

Serendipidy – Pick Two

Thanks to complications at my birth, I suffered from stunted growth.

The youngest of four siblings, it was clear that I was the runt of the litter, and my small stature was, no doubt, mirrored by my intelligence.

Mine was an unpleasant childhood: Brought up in an atmosphere of loathing and bitterness, yet – as they say – what doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.

I grew very strong.

And the killing… took place at my hands. First my brothers and sister, followed by my parents.

I got away with it, of course, thanks to my ‘stunted mental growth’.

Weekly Challenge #684: PICK TWO stunted growth, bath, passive, pelt, atmosphere, nameless, tendency

Birthday Girl


Nameless Atmosphere

The place is haunted, someone said. Or perhaps it’s just for the show.
The atmosphere is eerie, another added, chuckling.
They all agreed.
“What’s the place called?”
No one knew.
“Let’s call it Nameless.”
Everyone laughed and their laughter echoed throughout the pitch-black galleries and archways.
They got closer to one another. Just in case, they thought collectively without actually saying it.
Where are the scary ghosts, someone asked in a jesting tone.
No one thought it was funny.
That’s when they noticed the dark shadow snaking its way towards them and they knew it wasn’t just for the show.


Speaking my mind

I have a tendency for staying the obvious.

In forty degree heat, I’ll be the one to say, “Isn’t it hot?”; I’ll come home after being caught in a sudden downpour, and exclaim, “I’m soaked!”; And, on several memorable occasions, I’ve walked into a gathering, only to blurt out, “Wow… There’s a hostile atmosphere in here!”

Social gaffes like that have lost me friends and created a fair few enemies too.

So, I thought I may as well capitalise on my failings and I became a restaurant critic.

I have more enemies than ever, but at least I eat well!


It hung on the back wall of the tiny store. Been there for a good 90 years. Everyone who had at one time or another had come up will a guest of what animal it had been, but any of those guest weren’t the strong, didn’t stand any length of time. You could hear, “Sort of some cat. Maybe a bear” One day a guy from the local college took a sample and ran a mess of test. What he found out scared the crap out of him. Now at the back wall there’s an iron box wrapped with lead chains.


Though it made him seem perpetually passive, Billbert had the tendency to be a peacemaker and try to create a copacetic atmosphere. “That’s good, then, Wanda. We won’t blow your cover if you won’t blow ours.”

Linoliamanda clutched Billbert’s arm, nodded her head, and said, “That’s right. We’ll all keep our little secrets to ourselves.”

“I’m late for remedial math,” Wanda admitted. “But don’t think I won’t be keeping my eye on you, Billbert.”

“I’ve got to get to art, too.” Linoliamanda said. “We’re curing animal pelts in a tannic acid bath. I’ll look for you at the bus stop.”


The Nameless Tendency
We are the Nameless Tendency.

We are invisible, but we are everywhere.

We have no manifesto: what could it say?

We have no goal, so we will never be satisfied.

We say nothing, because all know the truth.

We have no desires, only intentions.

We have no demands, only judgements.

We accuse none, because all are guilty.

We speak without words, because words are lies.

No-one is with us, but everyone must be for us.

All are on trial. Defence is a plea of guilt.

We do nothing, yet everything is done.

The bombings will continue until there is peace.


They call him the nameless god.
The one that nobody worships.
He has no templates and no churches.
No priests, no shamans.
He walks in the shadows of stars. Watching, waiting.
But doing nothing.
Do not speak to him, he will not listen.
Do not pray to him, he will not answer.
The other gods sit on their thrones and shout and fight.
But the nameless one has no throne, and he does not fight.
Only walking, watching, waiting.
When the stars burn out and the gods go home, only the nameless god will remain.
Only then, will he speak.


Whoopi Goldberg said that she’d leave the country if Donald Trump won.
Then, when Trump won, she said it was only a joke.
Eventually, her agent got her booked for a few gigs in Europe.
But when she tried to come home, her passport was declared invalid.
“Sorry,” said the embassy’s passport control officer. “Your passport was revoked. You’ll need to apply for a new one. Fill out this form, provide two forms of identification, a photo, and the fee.”
She waited four weeks, and then another four weeks after she explained why her driver’s license said Caryn Elaine Johnson.

Personal Shoppers

It’s interesting to hear the “I was only joking!” or “I didn’t mean it!” statements coming from celebrities who used “I’m going to move to Canada if Trump wins!” threats as emotional blackmail or emphasis on endorsements.
So, they make an emotional plea, back it up with a threat, and their word is worthless?
If a corporation sponsors their projects or hires this person as a spokesperson, how do they reconcile that this famous person’s words are spiteful and worthless?
I guess that says a lot about the value of product and service endorsements.
Celebrities are not your personal shoppers.

Pull my lever

Who did I vote for?
Nobody. I voted for nobody.
Hillary took millions from regimes that want my people dead.
Trump is being cheered by people like David Duke who want my people dead.
Bernie is a self-loathing Jew who took on advisors that want my people dead.
Dr. Jill is a self-loathing Jew who cheered people who want my people dead.
Gary wanted to turn his back on my people and let them die.
Pardon me a moment while I say: fuck you all.
Go ahead. Top that. Make your excuses.
I fucking dare you. Pull my lever, asshole.