Category: My stories

Naming

636178

The dealer shook my hand and handed me the keys.
The spaceship was mine.
“What are you gonna name it?” asked the dealer. “We can paint it on the hull for you, no charge. And if you want us to work up a nice logo for it, that wouldn’t cost all that much.”
I looked the ship over, from engines to nosecone.
I drew a blank.
“How about George?” said a voice.
Was it the dealer?
No, he was gone, making another sale.
“My name is George,” said the ship. “Now let me come up with a name for you…”

Cruise

636178

It was a beautiful cruise ship. the Majestic, white and powerful.
Too bad the company went bankrupt.
So, what to do with an unused, unwanted cruise ship?
Someone suggested making a jail out of it. But there were protests about the conditions prisoners would be kept in.
On a cruise ship.
Right.
The military bought it in the end, practicing their anti-terrorism tactics.
When they’d stormed it as many times as they could, it was floated out to sea and used for target practice.
As if the Air Force and Navy would ever face off against cruise ships in combat.

The Teacher

636183

One day, a crate arrived marked TEACHER on the side.
An electrical cord dangled out from a hole.
“Plug it in for 8 hours,” a note said.
So, the principal did.
All of the kids sat quietly while the box hummed slightly.
After 8 hours, the crate was unplugged and the kids left.
Until it was school time again. Once again, kids sat down and it was plugged in.
A dozen kids showed up on Saturday, wanting to learn more.
“Go home,” said the principal.
None showed up on Sunday. They were at church, staring at a crate marked PREACHER.

The Cut

636179

Two rival teams of surgeons square off in the operating room.
“What are you doing here?” asks a doctor.
“Johnson at three?”
They all nod.
“Shit. Goddamned scheduling.”
The hospital administrator is called in to officiate. He tosses a coin.
“Heads,” says the anesthesiologist.
The teams scrub up, walking to opposite ends of the table.
One will work from the feet up, and the other down from the head.
“May the best team win,” says the administrator, and he drops a silk to the floor.
Under the mask, the patient breathes deep, and scalpels descend to make the opening cut.

Flower Bandit

636185

We checked the video twice.
A man walks into the bank, gives the teller a rose, and she hands him all the cash in the drawer.
He kisses her hand and then walks out to the street, vanishing in the crowd.
No alarm at all.
Nobody knows who he is. His face is all over the news, but he’s not armed or dangerous.
The tellers refuse to say anything about him, but they insist on keeping the flowers.
We’ve checked for fingerprints and DNA… nothing comes up.
What’s curious is that since he started, sales of flowers have gone up.

Like Clockwork

636186

There’s a reason why people use the phrase “Like clockwork.”
Every gear must be in perfect alignment.
Every tooth, precise, as with every escapement, spring, and wire.
It all doesn’t just fall into place.
It has to be painstakingly planned and built to utter precision.
Every piece working together in harmony.
One piece out of place, and the whole mechanism fails.
It takes a steady, patient hand to guide all the pieces into position.
Then, snap the case shut, wind it up, and listen.
Do you hear the ticking?
It’s ticking. It’s breathing.
Another watch, another clock is born.
Amen.

Fee Fie Foe Fucked

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Jack didn’t realize his mistake until he’d chopped through the beanstalk.
The giant was directly above his farm.
And falling. Really fast.
Gold coins couldn’t buy his way out of this one.
The goose’s goose was cooked.
And the magic harp began to play a mournful dirge as the shadows grew darker and darker.
The giant was falling face-down, and when he saw the look on Jack’s face, he roared with laughter.
“FEE FIE FO FUM!” was the last thing the giant shouted, and the last thing Jack heard.
Jack’s wife, asleep, didn’t feel a thing.
“Magic beans,” she mumbled.

Martians vs. Robots

636191

Martians? Robots?
You wouldn’t think they’d be at war, but they are, and the world is at stake.
The robots want to exterminate all human life.
The Martians just want to enslave them all.
You might think “At least we’d be alive and we’d have jobs” but you’d be generally miserable about it and have no freedom.
Kinda like things are now.
But then, they’re Martians. Foreigners. Invaders.
Sure, the Martians have robots, but they left them at home.
You know, to keep the confusion to a minimum.
Martians? Robots?
We’d better hurry up with destroying ourselves on our own.

And Then What

636185

Bobby was the one who pounded the stake through the vampire’s heart.
The vampire had gasped, clutched the stake, and died.
“Isn’t he supposed to turn into dust?” said Bobby. “Or burst into flames?”
The Vampire just sat there. Dead.
“I dunno,” I said. “What else are we supposed to do?”
We stuffed his mouth with holy wafers and garlic.
Turned the hose on him.
“Running water,” said Bobby. “And sunlight.”
Crosses, holy water, and even six silver bullets didn’t seem to do anything.
I checked the address.
“Isn’t 37 next door?” I asked.
The sun was setting.
We ran.

Focus

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I had a boss who made the craziest demands.
Once, she told me to focus on everything.
No. Really.
Focusing on everything.
Isn’t that impossible?
You have to focus on something. And then, everything else goes out of focus.
When something catches your attention out of the corner out of your eye, you shift your focus to that.
And what you had been focusing on, you don’t focus on anymore.
How can you focus on everything?
One day, I noticed that she used a special bottle of eyedrops for her contact lenses.
It glowed green.
I quit the next day.