Last night he caught her with another man. This morning he’s watering a new garden.
The lobby was very crowded, and some patients seemed to be getting very impatient indeed. A flyer on the table next to me read: “Schizophrenia–Research Participants are Needed.”
He gave her 12 roses 11 real and 1 fake he said. “I’ll love you until the last rose dies.”
I sold my soul to the Devil yesterday. In retrospect, I could have gotten a lot more.
He pressed his hand against his chest. It was growing in him, feeding on him, but he still had time.
I stood up to make my voice heard.
Somebody stole my chair.
I leaned over the coffin, my hot tears falling on her cold face, and told her that I loved her.
‘Then kiss me,’ she said.
This post submitted by Mark McAuliffe
Clem Sulfide was dead drunk when the aliens invaded, so he missed the conquest entirely. When he sobered up, he never noticed the difference.
I’ve always wondered…why would anyone need to paddle up shit creek? If you want the crap that badly, just stand in the water and it will come to you.
At last, my life is over.
One bright summer morning, she wakes up crying. She doesn’t love him anymore.
Thinking with his genitalia had gotten Crispin Snatscatcher in trouble many a time. Though none of his planetary invasions had proven fatal thus far, most of the habitable worlds in the galaxy were teeming with unviable mutants that were the results of his, shall we say, alien encounters.
Somewhat disoriented after waking up in a strange hotel room after his first night in town, Belson Crandle could not remember where he put his shoes. He finally found them in the ice bucket, newly polished and filled with vanilla pudding and dead mice.
She was a Doctor at a children’s hospital in Nagasaki starting the day after the bomb.
Her first day there lasted 103 hours, but even then she could not sleep for the horror.
Every single night, I sleep with me, myself, and I. I consider myself lucky to have daily threesomes.
She had an abortion the other night. It was delicious, though a little crunchy.
Yes, I knew Anna quite well, and I can tell you before you even ask that she definitely wrote the six cello suites in 1721 because Bach told me so; and he also said that she could out-write him on any stringed instrument… “NO question!”, he would yell it out.
They had 13 children, yet she was buried at Leipzig in a pauper’s grave and was never recognition for her genius… go figure.
After all the ghouls had been destroyed, Mike returned to the graveyard where his mother was buried. In her casket, he found only a menu serving the former contents at $5.99 a plate.
I will not forget that it was September, 1914, the Marne; and she was working with her usual fury at a first aid station only 250 meters behind d’Esperey’s Fifth Army line.
I was there 30 seconds after the shell hit, and even 60 years later, I can close my eyes and see her beautiful, dead face.
‘Yes filthy King, against your “law” I gave my brother sacred burial, and for this you murdered me by starvation; yet look ye now, repulsive pig, as thrusting from its grave, my hand brings you low!’
Thus beneath joyous Gods, a pious Antigone crushes a reckless King.