Category: random

At first glance, a child’s stuffed toy, lost. Closer inspection reveals something more. A poor soul, separated from its collective. With no one to say which way to turn, what to do, how to think, it surrendered and fell down. It lays there still, afraid to move.

Slowly they ascend, the sky is the limit. They are the victors, looking down on their victims. They escape, we fester. Do not look up, watch instead where you walk. If you see something, say something. Hot air.

You don’t need Liberty. What you want is $600 and a new facemask.

A simple pair of worn-out tennis shoes. They represent how history’s being altered before our eyes and ears. No one saying a thing. October One, 1960 — Nikita Khrushchev gaveling his shoe on a desk during a United Nation’s meeting. Nope, that didn’t happen. Keep walking.

“What sort of short story would it take for you to enjoy my writing?” I asked my wife.
“You know what sort of books I like to read,” she answered.
“Murder romance?” I said.
“Yup,” she said.

Homicide Detective Taylor arrived on the scene at 7:38 in the morning.

“What do we have?” he asked.

“Looks like a suicide,” the lead police officer said.

Inside the home, the back bedroom, he saw the body, face down on the floor, arms tucked beneath his chest, a dark red-black hole penetrating his right temple. Once the coroner arrived and they were allowed to move the man’s body, they found a 38-special under him.

“Yeah, looks like a suicide, but I’ll know for sure once I get him on the table,” the doc said.

Hours later the scene was released to the family, namely the man’s estranged wife, Naomi Miller. Taylor was the last to leave the scene.

“I did it okay, then?” she asked, with a smile.

“Perfect,” Taylor whispered in her ear as he held her in his arms.

His cellphone rang, “Taylor,” a long pause, “I see.”

He hung up and looked at Naomi, “Problem?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Taylor answered, “No gun-shot residue on his right hand.”

“Damn it!” Naomi growled.

Her anger turned Taylor on. He’d worry about the evidence, or the lack thereof, in the morning.

Right now, Taylor had his murderous girlfriend to comfort all night long.

The train used to stop here in the early years of the 20th century. But like truth and opposing opinions of the early years of this 21st century, the building is now de-platformed and being allowed to decay until it is but a shell of its once-bustling self.

A friend suggested planting this cone. A wonderful idea. The seeds are gone though, blown away by the perennial and hapless wind or eaten, and by now defecated where ever the animal has decided, only to grow wild or wither away, unnurtured, or worse — to never grow again.

Everything that my parents wanted when I was a kid, came true last night, as American’s fell asleep once again. All I could do was watch the sunset on the high Nevada desert and on the United States one last time. A dark winter has come across this land.

Cattle, clouds, shades of various degrees, extracted from sunlight across Nevada’s high desert. Peaceful and serene. What life was like once, should be like now. Cowboy up!

Mouth-watering mushrooms are what Elisa Jenkins wanted. So she ventured out into the nearby field in search of the delicate morsels.

She found several that were not edible, and two that were absolutely deadly if eaten, a poison so intense that they could shut down a man’s central nervous system within minutes of consumption. Elisa marveled at them but did not touch them.

Soon she entered a large copse of trees, tall, slender, and inviting, where she discovered what she desired. Mushrooms everywhere.

Elisa Jenkins was what they were desiring to, as she quickly learned that she could not outrun mouth-watering mushrooms.