Tag: tragedy

Tickler

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Little Jimmy liked to tickle people. He loved to hear laughter.
He got so good at it, he could find the ticklish spots on all people who claimed not to be ticklish at all.
Folks got to know him well. So much so, all he had to do was wiggle his fingers and you’d feel them on your body, tickling you. Five, six, ten feet away – you could feel it.
Maybe he could too?
Jimmy’s last tickle victim was a toaster. He used a metal fork to do the deed.
I wonder… right before he was electrocuted, did it tickle?

Making A War

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There’s always that one person at a party, off in the corner, all by themselves.
Fred was holding the string to a red balloon, mumbling “All I need are ninety-eight more and I can start a nuclear war.”
So, we gathered up all the red balloons, but still came up short.
The party store was closed. We couldn’t buy more.
“Maybe if we paint the other ones red? I said.
But nobody had red paint, and the paint store was closed, too.
The next morning, I was drinking my coffee, when I heard the sirens.
Should have gotten a pinata.

Strippers

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Old Joe was a funny man, great to be around.
Every night, he’d shuffle from strip club to strip club, peeling off five-dollar bills from a roll as thick as a cabbage.
I don’t know how long he’d been doing this, but that roll never ran out. Not to his dying day.
At his funeral, the place was packed wall-to-wall with strippers, and by the end of the service, the floor was a sea of veils and black dresses.
One final party.
There in the center, old Joe, smiling in his coffin, gripping that bundle of fives.

Peek A Boo

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I have found another portal into a parallel universe.
Unlike the others, it’s to a universe where my daughter is still alive.
At first, I thought to bring my daughter here, but I don’t think I can explain how she survived a fatal car crash three years ago.
I could go there, but I’d have to take my parallel-self’s place. Not an easy thing to do when there’s been three years of experience to learn?
Perhaps I can peek in there and maybe watch her grow up. There’s no harm in that, right?
I won’t change anything. Nothing at all.

Aziz

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I watched as a kid named Aziz celebrated in the schoolyard, the teacher leading his classmates in praise for Aziz’s brother.
He’d blown himself up, killing twenty people. Four of them were from my unit.
I followed Aziz home. Two men gave him a package, and he put it in his schoolbag.
I stopped him, took the bag away, and looked in the package.
It was a bomb. He was going to deliver it to another of his brothers to go blow himself up.
Instead, Aziz exploded in his house, taking his whole family with him.
Accidents can be caused.

Perpetually Dying

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My friend, far away.
Perpetually dying, a tired wall of sickness spreading and suffering, each day worse than the last.
No hope but for the next moment.
In time, the end comes to us all, but we live by denying it.
Until it approaches.
Or comes suddenly.
But her, every day, growing worse, she lives in defiance of it.
For her son.
He is young, but he sees not the crippling pain, closing in on itself, but someone staying strong.
For him.
Hold on just a little longer.
And when he’s strong enough, your gift to him, you can rest.

Repeater

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Billy The Repeater is in the neighborhood, repeating everything that everyone says.
It used to be cute how he did it, but it’s gotten really annoying.
I can tell Billy is exhausted, too. The strain on his face as he mimics everything I say shows his exhaustion.
We tried to cut his tongue out, but now he mumbles and slurs everything.
That’s not so great, especially when I really need Billy to repeat something I can’t remember saying, but Billy remembers.
“What did I say, Billy?” I ask.
“Whafff di Ah sehhhhh Buhhhhhheeeee,” he mumbles.
As I said, really annoying.

Please

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I looked at the note in the victim’s hand.
“Please…”
One word, three dots.
That’s all that was on the note.
Nothing else.
“Please… do what?” asked Sam.
“I have no idea,” I said. “The rest’s blank.”
“At least they’re polite,” said Sam. “Want a beer?”
“Yeah,” I said.
So we went to the bar.
The bartender asked me if I wanted the usual.
“Please,” I said, nodding.
Sam looked at me. And then…
“No, that’s not it,” he said.
We never did solve the mystery of who wrote the note or what it meant.
The victim’s just as dead.

The Oldest

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We’re going to miss Daisy.
The first words that she ever said was “This is the oldest I’ve ever been.”
Everyone was shocked to hear this, because it took a level of self-awareness and deep understanding of the nature of life and mortality you wouldn’t expect in someone so young.
Over time, Daisy faced her life’s struggle and would say that phrase with pride. Then, when things turned too rough for her to handle, she said it with worry.
As she approached her twilight years, her accomplishments already made and legacy established, the worry gradually changed to a confident wisdom.

Kids Are Stupid

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I remember the kids in the schoolyard telling each other that if you toss a penny off of the Empire State Building, it could kill someone.
Kids are stupid.
You’ve got to drop a roll of pennies to take someone out.
I’d repeat the experiment, but I dropped my binoculars, so I can’t see if I’m hitting anyone or not.
Maybe they’ll tell me at the trial. If they take me alive, that is.
Looking down, I think the binoculars killed someone down there, too.
I wish I’d brought a parachute. Jumping from here would be cool.
I’ll jump anyway.