Category: My stories

Hippos

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I don’t know who I can trust with this, but things have been really weird the past few weeks.
When I’m with my friends, all of the sudden, they turn into hippopotamuses.
Yes. Hippopotamuses. Gigantic grey beasts with huge mouths, eating straw and wallowing in the mud on the riverbank.
Just as soon as they turn into these creatures… they’re back.
The first time it happened, I got up off the floor and said “Did you just see that?”
Nobody did. It was just me.
What? Why are you looking at me like that?
Have I… turned into… a… hippo?

One Block Away

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I work in the Theater District. There are events going on all the time in this area.
And yet, I’ve gone to so few of them
I pulled up each venue’s calendar and looked over the past few months of events.
I missed a touring Broadway show I wanted to see.
A popular comedian came and went without catching my attention in time.
There”s that ballet someone was raving about in a local forum.
From my desk, it takes me 95 steps to walk to the performance hall next door.
I really need to get out more to these things.

The Memo

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Everybody who reads the secret memo dies.
So, it’s been filed away…
deep in the archives…
locked in a filing cabinet…
which is locked in a closet…
which is in a locked room…
accessible only by locked stairs…
and the door to the stairs is locked, too.
But I have the keys on this keyring.
Let’s see…
To the door.
To the stairs.
To the door.
To the room.
To the closet.
To the cabinet.
Here. Take this keyring.
If you don’t believe me, see for yourself.
Read the memo.
Oh, and when you do, can I have your stapler?

Dancing Goddess

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When the Goddess begins to dance, people from all around will gather by the shore and watch her move in the tide with such grace and beauty.
They drop everything and sway in the evening mist.
Mothers let their babies slip from their grasp and fall into the surf.
Nobody notices the splashes. The Goddess laughs as each sacrifice is made.
Sometimes, after the dance, their bodies wash up on the shore, and there is much grief.
The Goddess has rejected the children.
But when the children wash out to sea, it is said they have become her royal consorts.

Yorick

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The old jester imagined that he would be telling jokes in court to laughing royalty, screwing maids in the barn, and dining on the best of what the castle’s kitchen had to offer.
Instead, he had a mouth full of mud and his back ached from the weight of the young prince.
“Horsey!’ shouted Hamlet.
Yorick groaned with each kick to his ribs.
At first, it was a delight. But with each passing week of being a plaything, Yorick grew weary.
Yorick never did get the laughter, maids, or feasts.
He died a broken man, a feast for the worms.

The Hive Queen

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Ambassador Grindmar’s report to the Hive Queen was positive: the negotiations were going well, and peace would come at an insignificant price, easily made up for with future mutual trade and growth.
“Where is that Grindmar now?” asked the Queen.
The bodyguards upended a preservation-cask, spilling Grindmar’s butchered carcass on the throne room floor.
“That’s unfortunate,” said the Queen. “But the negotiations completed, correct?”
“Yes,” said Grindmar’s replacement. “The war is over.”
“Good,” said the Hive Queen. “Let us Prepare a feast in Grindmar’s honor.”
That night, Grindmar was as delicious as she had been skilled in crafting peace treaties

Trademark

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In all the signals the aliens sent us, there was never a harsh word or a profanity uttered.
Completely friendly.
It wasn’t until their delegation landed and their people walked around did we realize it was going to be an issue.
You see, in their language, many corporation names and trademarked brands were the most vile things imaginable.
“Coke” was a revolting sexual act.
“Disney” was scatological in nature.
“Ford” was akin to genocide.
And so on.
So, eventually, they gave up on our planet and went on to the next one.
While we drank our Cokes and waved goodbye.

Implants

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How fast they grow up.
My little girl, Lisa, wants neural implants.
All the kids at school have them, why can’t she?
When her mother and I were kids, we had to wait until we were grown up to get them.
Now, the school system pushes the kids harder and harder. And it’s so much cheaper to jack in a kid to the network than teach them the old way.
The green hair took some getting used to. The piercings. The drinking. The boyfriends. The usual signs of rebellion.
But then, I guess the third grade’s been tough for her.

The Whole World

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I get so afraid of the world sometimes.
The whole damn world.
When the fear gets to be too much, I crawl into bed and pull the covers up to my chin.
Then, I just lay there, not even moving my eyes.
I am as still as a statue.
The shadows close in on me, looking, and I can feel them watching for the slightest move.
I’m just sitting here, feeling my heart beat. The rise and fall of my chest as I breathe.
What will they do next?
I don’t know. And that is what I find so terrifying.

Icing

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Elroy bakes the best cakes in the city.
People would pay dearly for these works of art.
I once had the privilege to watch him in action… although it was hard to keep up with the blur of kitchen implements and cloud of ingredients whizzing around him.
What was most impressive was his mastery of icing cakes.
He showed me a bare cake, told me to try to eat it.
So, I put a fork in the side of it, and as I drew the fork to my mouth, that bit of cake was perfectly iced.
A magician, he was.