Humor
Assets
Jenny knew that art was dead. Her paintings of high praise were reduced to speculative assets, which were used in money laundering schemes and investment portfolios, and nobody actually cared about the paintings themselves. It was her name that turned $200 worth of art supplies into a $20,000 painting, not the craft and care that went into its creation.
By Marty Shambles4 years ago in Fiction
Carlos
She saw him approaching her a good ten minutes before they actually met. Out on those long and lonely stretches of the Meseta, that is not unusual. You can see all around for miles and so are forewarned of any other peregrinos in the vicinity. And that day there were not many. The walking season was drawing to a close; it had already rained twice that week.
By Matt Pointon4 years ago in Fiction
The Efficiency Of Harry Or The Perplexing Incident Involving Denny And The Weird Shit In The Bottle
Ok, now picture a hip, garage-ish soundtrack. Very ‘70’s English. The scene is a still-frame, mid-action of a man hopping a fence. His body, hoisted by one hand into the crunching position, has cleared the top, fairly visible and taking up most of the frame. He’s wearing tattered, red Chuck Taylor’s, jeans that stand the chance of having not been washed in months and a ragged old olive green T-shirt with a pocket over the left breast and yellowed bleach spots across the belly.
By Ken Withrow4 years ago in Fiction
Cooking With Ted In The Apocalypse
I overslept. The mattress and clean sheets, heavy blanket, and security of this society lulled me into a slumber I was loath to wake from, though my eyes did open to a high sun sharing its light through the windows, cut in long beams by blinds. I laid, unburdened by an agenda of survival but swamped in luxurious bed dressings, and my body fought against rising and shedding the cloths, and with it, the illusion of safety.
By Alexander Ray Williams4 years ago in Fiction
Honey, I Got Hit on by a Drag Queen
"Babe, listen--" "I am tired of listening to your pathetic excuses, Michael!" Michael Streight stared at his wife Alexia in bewilderment. The hazel eyes he looked into every night with love and adoration were now staring back at him with crazed incredulity, the bottom eyelid of her right eye twitching sporadically like it did when the kids were home.
By Charleigh Justice4 years ago in Fiction
Beggin for Bacon
There was a quick knock at the door as the deliveryman dropped off the house groceries. The drop off was a little bit later today than normal, around two thirty instead of one forty-five. On any other day, this wouldn’t be much cause for alarm. A bit of an inconvenience, but oh well. Today, however, they would need every spare minute they could get. Tanya opened the door to find five plastic bags on their doorstep. They could easily be carried in one trip.
By Sukie Harper4 years ago in Fiction
The Semi-Warring States Of Dragon Valley
There weren’t always dragons in the valley that sits between the kingdoms of Dunkren and Rabicula. In fact, before their sudden and mysterious disappearance a few days ago, they had only been there roughly three hundred years.
By Brian Rosen4 years ago in Fiction
Tricycle
“Ding, ding!” Ian screamed while he pedaled his trike down the sidewalk. He’d told mom he was in desperate need of a bell to warn pedestrians out of his way, but the best she could do was add it to the Christmas wish list. The sidewalk sloped and Ian sped up unwillingly. He screamed his dings louder to compensate for the increased danger and tried to slow himself down with his heels. Mom would be angry at him for ruining his shoes, but this was a matter of safety! The friction created by his rubber soles wasn’t doing the job fast enough. He was headed right for the street corner; a sharp curve of death. Ian held his breath and leaned uphill as he turned. His dings turned to cries of panic as his right wheel left the ground. The trike skidded right and the momentum carried it into a concrete street lamp, hitting it broadside. Actually, more of Ian than the trike hit the concrete. As this happened the right wheel of the trike came slamming down and snapped off the body.
By Natalie Scivally4 years ago in Fiction
