“In a never-ending quest to manipulate their planet to better suit their every selfish desire, the Earth-dwellers attempted to cease the eruption of all volcanoes by pumping all of the core’s magma out into space,” Professor Ylyvys explained to his eighth-grade class about the ex-planet that had become infamous even to them, nine galaxies away. “They never fully understood the aliveness of their planet until they drained its life-blood, which killed not only Earth but also everything and everyone on it.”
After Jon took his seat on the train beside the knitting old woman, he raised his hands and showed her his long black claws with a fang-filled grin.
The old woman put down her knitting, opened her mouth and pointed at the blood-covered train conductor who lay screaming between her massively wide jaws and she laughed with a girlish titter when Jon got up.
Go on and murmur sweet nothings to the deep void of your heart in the bitter reality of your new existence, for there is no one left here to love you. You killed them, all of them, and no matter which realm of afterlife their train is bound for, you’re stuck here alive in your own personal hell on earth – alone.
I less than three Centrelink; thank you for your taxes. P.S. Your taxes taste like McDonald’s.
Using someone else’s bathroom is like having sex with a stranger; it’s unnaturally intimate. Not that I care.
Today I put my dog down.
My arms were tired.
The assassin pulled the mask off of the female target’s dead body, and much to his shock, realized it was his wife and she had been working for the enemy all along. Two hundred yards away, the couple’s only son fixed his sniper’s scope on his mother’s masked murderer and pulled the trigger.
Jacob knocked the knife from the burglar’s hand, kicked him in the groin, and pinned him to the stained basement floor with his heavy foot. “Don’t worry, I won’t be calling the police,” Jacob whispered, flicking on the bare light bulb, and revealing the other would-be intruders hanging from meat hooks.
The young, attractive palm reader took Barton’s hand in her own, sensually licked the length of his life line, and told him he would live a long, fulfilling life. That night, lying next to his wife in bed, he felt guilty for wondering what the crystal ball reader might have done to him.
The wicked, wart-ful Witch of Winkleton cast a spell on the very vain, very self-conscious Vivian, so that every time young Vivian looked in the mirror she saw the face of a ferocious, fly-infested fox. She’d ask her friends again and again, “Does my face look like a fox?” and they always said no, so that eventually she didn’t ask and she didn’t bother looking in the mirror and so that eventually, she didn’t even worry about what she looked like anymore.
Living and loving differ just by a vowel… and only by that…
The day before he had planned to kill himself, Ben completed the ten thousand piece puzzle he had been working on for quite some time, only to find that one tiny, seemingly insignificant piece was missing.
Still, it didn’t look right.
I shrugged off the message I found in my fortune cookie after finishing a “pint” of sweet and sour chicken that told me I had only one week left to live. A week and a day later, as I lay sprawled across the couch with remote steadily aimed at TV, I wondered if maybe, just maybe, I should have taken the fortune seriously.
I went to the drugstore last night to get some Vitamin C for my throat, you know, the delicious powdery citrus kind that fizzes up in your glass before you drink it.
When I got back from the store I had the Vitamin C for my throat , some antibacterial bandages for all of the cuts I got when this huge glass shelf thing fell on me, a pair of running shoes for when the vamps in the store chased me (I wore a pair of flips to the store silly silly me), a crossbow I took from this old dude waiting in the pharmacy who was mad packing with guns and lasers and whatnot, a gas mask from when the feds rolled out the garlic gas bombs…and I got the email addy of that cute blonde pharmacist guy who let us all ride out the attack in the back of the pill room…so yeah I had a great night but I’m starting to think that this whole human vampire co-existing this is not working out but maybe I’m wrong.
He had struggled for months, offloading every aspect of his life into the many-tentacled monster, making sure that he had unburdened himself of every last vestige of his individuality.
At last, he had learned to love Facebook.