Humor

Kiwi Of My Eye
As Sean’s Uber driver took a left turn a little too hard to beat the red light, something rolled into his foot. He was immediately aware of it, but ignored it for a moment… just until he could be sure he was fine. Just until he was done bracing himself… just until this erratic Uber driver completed her tire-squealing, dinner-jostling, center-of-gravity-shifting turn.
By Stephen Kramer Avitabile4 years ago in Fiction
The man with twenty hands
‘Give this man a hand,’ Larry King beamed to the audience, which erupted in applause. ‘Wait, wait-’ he said, gesturing with his own two hands to get the crowd to stop. ‘On second thoughts I think he has more than enough.’
By James Jensen4 years ago in Fiction
It’s The CCP
‘I’m telling you, my brain isn’t working like it did before. Ever since the virus attacked.’ ‘The virus didn’t attack you. Viruses don’t attack people. They infect them.’
By James Lanternman4 years ago in Fiction
Tap, tap.
I snuggle deeply under the quilt, warm and heavy with sleep. Somewhere, deep in my dreams, I become aware of a gentle but insistent tapping on my left shoulder.
By Michael Halloran4 years ago in Fiction
A Story for Another Time
I fear many things in this world, altitude being primary among them. My fear of heights is such that I cannot calmly contemplate a photograph of a steelworker perched on an I-beam high above the streets of Manhattan. Of course, rationally, I know that I am in no personal danger, but such fears will not respond to reason. I feel – deep down in places that reason will not reach – that I am about to lose my balance and topple into an abyss. I have long since learned to avoid high places, as well as pictures of high places.
By Earl Carlson4 years ago in Fiction
The Snoose Boulevard Renaissance
Many years ago, in a reality far, far away (in the Old Mixers on Seven Corners in the Snoose Boulevard neighborhood of Minneapolis) a gaggle of art students would congregate after classes, to discuss aesthetic theory. Since the professors, under whose tutelage they labored, were veterans of the Art Students’ League and had been present at the inception of Abstract Expressionism, these students gravitated toward the idea that a painting’s value must be inherent, without reference to any object or any idea outside itself. That is to say, for instance, that the aesthetic value of Van Gogh’s several paintings of his room at Arles would not be diminished in the least, for a future or a far distant society, in which the chair had no utility, and in which the concept of bed did not exist. Further, though visual works have always been exploited as tools for propaganda, such use does not contribute to aesthetic worth, and indeed, in most cases, serves only to detract from its actual value.
By Earl Carlson4 years ago in Fiction
Dr Particle - lesson #2 in urban morality
Dear Dr Particle, I have to tell you about this crazy woman I saw today. I was at the petrol station. I’d filled up my car and gone inside to pay. Then my girlfriend and I went next door to get a double cheeseburger meal.
By A.J Hart4 years ago in Fiction
A Fish Can Dream
A school of fusilier fish circle near the northern coast of Queensland. In the shimmering blue water, one of them begins dreaming of life outside of their group.
By Scott Bradbrook4 years ago in Fiction
Life goes on
In a brightly coloured room lit with countless small and modern fixtures, the hundreds of men and women of the Corporation toiled-as they had since the dawn of time. At the very center of the room was a large crystalline model of the Earth, spinning absentmindedly like it was in no rush to get anywhere. On its clear blue surface were miniscule red lights that were scattered along the whole globe, though concentrated in several areas more than others. The lights would appear and extinguish faster than any eye could keep track of, almost like a disco-ball- had it been invented in the twenty-second century. Cubicles lined across the outer walls, each accompanied with its own worker which spent little time outside of them. If one of them were to stop what they were doing and look carefully at the very top of the room, they would find a small pane of glass above, overlooking the whole operation below. Nobody ever knew what went on up there, only that they all had a job that needed to be done.
By Tommy H4 years ago in Fiction
Superbowl LVI Party with the Astrology Signs
Aries was a big sports fan, and to celebrate his favorite day of the year, Superbowl Sunday, he invited 11 of his closest friends to his house for a Superbowl party. He cleaned his living room, laid out a spread of chips and dip, and was just setting out paper plates and napkins when the doorbell rang.
By Jocelyn Joy Thomas4 years ago in Fiction
A Funny Thing Happened on My Way to Hell Today: Chapter Two
My Headlong Dive through the Looking Glass Of course, my entrance wasn’t all that inconspicuous. Not unsurprisingly you can’t just walk into Hell. That’s a good thing if you think about it, sort of guarantees that no one bumbles into it accidentally, and gives a certain sense of confidence that no one can just leak out. Whatever Michael did seemed to have triggered a lightning storm, and I came in right through it. Everything went topsy turvy for twelve or thirteen seconds while I flipped head over heel trying to find my feet, and then I was very abruptly standing under my own power in a billowing cloud of sand.
By Jo Carroll4 years ago in Fiction
Dear Dr Particle
# 1. Vacuum Cleaners Dear Dr Particle, I am a law student who works in fast food. We buy oil in 44-gallon drums. That stuff gets in my clothes, my hair, my skin and I smell like 3-day old fried onion all the time.
By A.J Hart4 years ago in Fiction