Tag: mystery

The Water

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It’s raining again. The power is out, and I can’t find the candles.
I look out the window at the darkness.
There’s leaves and branches in the drain along the street, and the water is backing up.
If it keeps raining like this, the street will flood. Then, the water will crawl up the sidewalk and work its way up to the door.
When the water knocks on the door, I will answer it.
“Hello, water,” I will say. “Welcome to my home.”
The water will glide over the doormat and into my front hall.
I enjoy having guests over.

Sailing To Freedom

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Slaves dream of freedom like the starving dream of food.
I pondered this as I went below decks to check on our passengers.
Well, they were more like cargo, to tell the truth.
The shifting of chains in the darkness. A moan. A shout.
Never singing. They were too sick to sing.
Poor bastards.
Regulations called for a mid-trip survival check, but nobody was crazy enough to walk in the middle of that sea of savagery.
I closed the hatch and asked the navigator: “How much longer?”
“Two days, and we’ll see the Liberian coast,” he said.
And then, freedom.

Cleveland

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When people ask me where the bad man touched me, I tell them: “Cleveland.”
He touched me in Cleveland.
It could have happened anywhere, really.
Dallas, Chicago, Denver… but there was a huge storm in Buffalo that night. So the airline diverted the flight in Cleveland and forgot about us.
No hotel rooms.
No food.
Nothing.
We dragged chairs together and slept in the terminal.
And that’s when the bad man touched me.
In Cleveland.
And I liked it.
In fact, I’m going back to Cleveland next week.
We’ll see if the bad man is there, too.
I hope so.

Asteroids

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We watched in horror as a series of artificial asteroids splashed into the ocean.
I looked over the document on my desk, compared the trajectories, and confirmed that this was no natural strike.
It had been planned.
Swamping a few oil tankers and cruise ships was purely by coincidence. This was really meant as a warning to… to…
Nobody’s sure who had the wherewithal to grab asteroids and huck them with such accuracy at the earth. Nobody was expecting this, and any guidance systems burned up in the atmosphere.
I lean over to my wastepaper basket and shred the document.

Strange Days

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Strange Days are here again.
Everybody’s been shopping for the Strange for weeks now, waiting for the days when the skies change and the world turns on end for what seems like forever.
The problem with the Strange Days is that you never know exactly how things will turn strange.
It makes it hard to shop, but folks don’t need much incentive to go nuts shopping these days.
Especially with Strange Days around the corner.
Are you ready for them?
You are?
Does this mean you know what the Strange Days will bring?
TELL ME! TELL ME!
TELL ME NOW!

Cruise Ship

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The cruise ship White Diamond has a severe engine misalignment, and it wobbles in timespace.
On its last voyage past Cuba, it wobbled slightly and smashed into its duplicate in a parallel dimension.
Counting survivors, casualties, and the missing isn’t easy when life rafts and bodies float between worlds.
Customs wants to make “twinned” survivors fill out Entry Forms.
Apparently, some nutball in Congress got taxing dimension-travelers attached to a bill a while back, and it got approved.
Problem is, we can’t tell who is a native and who is a twin.
“It’s government,” grumble the captains. “Tax them all.”

Calendar

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Every morning in the lobby of my building, there’s always the same crazy man wandering around, asking what day it is.
Sure, I could tell him, but instead of that, I hand him a cheap, giveaway pocket calendar.
I don’t remember where I got this one, but I don’t need it, so I’m giving it to the crazy man.
“Here you go,” I said. “Now you can look up what day it is whenever you want.”
He looks at it, flips through the pages, and scowls.
“Does it say what day it is?” he asks.
He’s right. It doesn’t.
Weird.

Squirrel Gun, Hunting Dog

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I was in the park, watching a guy walk his dog, little puffs of grass and dirt kicking up all around them.
That’s when I saw the squirrel with the sniper rifle up in the tree next to me, nestled among the waving branches.
“You’ve got to compensate for the wind,” I told him.
The squirrel chittered, adjusted his sights, and fired a few more rounds.
POW! POW! POW!
The dog dropped first, then the man spun around into a hedge.
I heard something, and at my feet was that sniper rifle.
And that’s the God’s honest truth, Your Honor.

Blindfold

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Someone glued a blindfold over my face while I was sleeping last night.
Looking back, I’m surprised that I didn’t panic.
I use my cell phone as my alarm clock, so I reached for it, thumbed it off, and calmly dialed 911.
Waiting for the ambulance to arrive, I breathe slowly and meditate.
It’s rather calming, really, rediscovering everything in the darkness.
You know, when they get here, I may ask them to turn around and go back. Come back in a few hours, maybe tomorrow.
If at all.
My eyes are closed, and I feel fine.
Time to explore.

Piano Man

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I was sitting at a San Francisco sidewalk cafe, minding my own business, when a large herd of grand pianos slowly rolled along the street.
“Did they fall out of a truck?” the waiter asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think so,” I said. “They’re all going uphill.”
The pianos, paying no attention to our comments, continued their slow, rumbling roll up the hill and out of sight.
“Hey, maybe we should tell someone?” said the waiter. “They might cause an accident or something.”
“You’re right,” I said, pulling out a cell phone. “They completely ran that red light.”