Category: My stories

Disinformation Society

639172

Sunrise. Sunset.
We know that the earth goes around the sun, right?
Dialing a number. Setting sail.
Anachronisms. Terminology based on old technology.
Prostitutes know that the term “making love” has nothing to do with their profession.
The language has become polluted. We have twisted it into the opposite of communicating thoughts and ideas.
It is a tool of miscommunication.
So, we now skip the whole concept of language and communicate directly.
It started with brain-to-brain wires, but it’s all wireless now.
No language. Just pure, honest thoughts and ideas.
The person who invents the oxymoron will become disgustingly rich.

Talons

639156

A bird came up the walk this morning.
I looked at it. It looked at me.
And then it flew away.
So, I flew after it.
Flapping my arms madly, I rose into the air and gave chase.
The bird flew to the top of a house down the street and landed.
So I did too.
I looked at it. It looked at me.
And then I flew away.
The bird did not follow me.
I landed by a puddle and I looked in the water at my reflection.
I’m a bird.
Well, that explains why I’m not wearing pants.

Fourth Pig

639160

You’ve heard about the Three Little Pigs, right?
They made their houses out of straw, wood, and brick.
There was another pig. A cousin, who was in The Big House, made of stone and iron bars.
When he heard what happened to his cousins, he broke out.
“What the fuck is going on here?” he asked the cowering pigs. “Did you spend all of my money on these stupid houses?”
The three pigs nodded.
The fourth pig made his house out of bacon, ham, and pork chops.
Nobody, not even the Big Bad Wolf dares to fuck with that psycho.

Rights

639156

The Legislature voted down the gay marriage bill for the third time in a year, and the governor said he’d just as soon sign a bill that allowed gays to fly.
So, as an April Fool’s joke, the legislature passed that bill. Unanimously.
The governor called a press conference and, in front of a dozen reporters, signed it.
And as he looked out over the assembled group, he noticed a few people rising from their chairs into the air.
Alarmed, he held on to the podium, knuckles white against the wood.
But his feet would not stay on the ground.

Bottlecaps

639160

Joe has a trash can full of bottlecaps behind the bar. He calls it his collection.
No corkboards or anything. Just a can full of bottlecaps.
“I just collect them,” he says, pulling another beer from the tap.
“From where?” I ask. “You just keep beer on tap, no bottles or cans. And you’ve never gone anywhere but up and down those stairs to your apartment.”
Joe looked at the trash can and scratched his head. “Beats me,” he said. “I guess this makes it valuable or something.”
He handed me the beer and tossed another cap into his collection.

The Stairs

639160

Lily warned me not to go down to the basement.
But I needed something from down there.
We live on four, so I went down the five flights of stairs and…
Locked. Forgot the key.
So, I went back up six flights of stairs and…
Six?
If I went up six, I should be on…
Wait. Hold on.
I went back down again, down five flights of stairs, and stood at the basement door.
Then I carefully counted each flight of stairs up.
Six.
“Somethings wrong,” I said.
“I told you not to go down to the basement,” muttered Lily.

The Talking Sword

639167

The swordsman tested all the swords in the store, but when he picked up the talking sword, he was greatly impressed.
“I have no equal, no opponent can defeat me,” it said.
The fighter took a few lunges and swings.
Good balance, nice edge.
I like this sword.
He bought it.
Three days later, the swordsman was crawling out of a cave, bloodied and battered, sword in hand.
“They were kobolds, Sword,” he groaned. “I could beat them barehanded.”
“My expertise is in debate, not combat,” said the sword.
It swore as it clattered against the rocks in the cave.

The Dragon Next Door

639171

My oven is filthy.
It is covered with grime.
But I do not have anything to clean it.
So, I call the dragon who lives next door.
She sticks her head in the window and looks at the oven.
“Disgusting!” she growls.
She takes a deep breath and blows fire all over my kitchen, burning the countertops and toaster and my favorite oven mitts.
“I am so sorry,” she says. “I should have been more careful.”
I hop on her back and we fly to a restaurant, order burgers and shakes, and go hunting for elephants for her to eat.

Dazzleberries and Ookweed

639175

Grondor admonished his tribe of cave-dwellers: “Lay off the dazzleberries and ookweed.”
He was getting sick and tired of tripping over stoned tribesmen or getting jabbed in the ass with a spear when they’d flip out and hallucinate that he was an elk.
And so, he collected up all the plants he could find, dragged the Firemaker out of his cave, and they set the narcotic bundle aflame.
With a deep sigh of relief, Grondor walked back to the caves.
And saw elk. Dozens of them.
He pulled out his spear and attacked.
His frightened tribe scattered, bleeding and screaming.

2000

639154

My grandfather owned a wholesale grocery warehouse.
In his office, there was an antique cash register and an adding machine you had to pull the crank to get the numbers out of.
I calculated how old I’d be in the year 2000.
Then I did it for my brother.
And my dad.
And my mother.
When I wanted to do it for my grandfather, he chuckled and said he didn’t think he’d be around for that.
“But, Grampa.”
He was right. Ten years short, seven kinds of cancer ganged up on him.
Nobody knows where that adding machine ended up.