Sunday, March 26, 2023

Cracked Goth

Amar En Meleth

The guy dressed in black, black eyeliner, black nail polish, black moon tattooed on his cheek.
"Metrics," he said.
I didn't understand what metrics had to do with the tattoo.
"Measures of quantitative assessment," he said.
I had questions.
The fireplace in the gazebo illuminated the cracked pavement.
"Beautiful," he said.
For a moment, I thought he meant me. I looked frantically in all directions, assessing my quantitative measures of evasion.
He meant the moon.
This wasn't going well, I had to admit.
Did he even notice I was there? Cracked pavement... Beautiful... More like a cracked brain, in black.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, March 19, 2023



The signal is blocked. We can't get through. I'm leaving this note. There's food for five days. After that... I don't know. I'm in my bunker. Perhaps we won't need food for five days. I go out at night to get my share from the warehouse. They hand it over through a small window. I never talk to anyone. I tried waving hello, but no one waved back. Now, when I see someone else, I cross the street and walk away. By the way, if I don't make it, they're all in the Mayor's pool. And no, they're not swimming.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, March 12, 2023




The string of lights reminded me of you.
It reminded me of those days we spent in the cinema parking lot, next to the industrial fan, barely able to hear each other.
The string of lights reminded me of you and me.
It reminded me of the shouted out tunes that were just laughter.
It reminded me of when our fingers touched by mistake and we didn't know what to do.
Did you say "I love you"?
The string of lights reminded me of us.
The cinema is now gone but I can still hear that silent I love you.

Sunday, March 5, 2023



Time Remains

I was setting up the new store display. Pillows and whatever... Plus the robot, of course. The boss loved the robot.
That's when a customer asked "What's the price range?"
How do I know?!
"We don't sell peace and quiet, sir."
He opened his mouth as if to say something. Then, he gave up.
Stupid customers.
"Anything else, sir?"
That's when he snatched the robot and ran!
The range on the tracker was huge. I didn't bother chasing him. The boss would find it.
I, however, had trouble finding a new job.
Peace and quiet... I wish someone sold that.

Sunday, February 26, 2023

Unbalanced Darling

Wonderland 2.0

They made her wear a long checkered coat that matched the background.

"Color. Style. It's intentional, darling," said the director.
The multitude of patterns gave her a headache.
Then, they added a huge hat. "For balance," they said.
"This is very Alice-like," she muttered.
The director smiled a condescending smile.
"Ever directed a play, darling?"
"Well then... This stage. It's different! New!"
"What?! It's a ripoff from Burton's!"
"Out," shouted the director. "Out, now!"
OK, time to call Mr. B and let him know he was right. This copycat wouldn't be calling anyone else "darling" for a long time.

Sunday, February 19, 2023



Island of Lost Dreams

"The scroll, please"
Amidst the perplexing disarray of intentions (everyone darted in different directions), one of the monks tripped.
They said the turmoil was such that no one fetched the scroll.
"Considering the monk's broken leg will stay broken for a while, someone, get the scroll."
Everyone hurried.
After a while...
"There are two scrolls, Father. Which one...?"
He took a deep breath. There are two, they said... Two scrolls, one broken leg. And he felt like strangling someone and shoving a scroll down someone's throat. Then, there would be only one.
Hell. That's where he was heading, Hell.

Sunday, February 12, 2023



Milk Wood

"A plate full of love," she said, looking at the heart-shaped biscuits and blinking her eyes slowly, like a cat.
He frowned.
She raised her voice to a higher pitch. "You don't think so?"
Careful, he thought. Never ever contradict a host holding a plate.
"Valentine?" She insisted. "Love and all that?"
He nodded. Pink little hearts...
"Fine, don't say anything. I'll toss them in the garbage."
He nodded.
That's when that plate flew in his direction.
The gash on his head wasn't the shape of a heart.
That love wasn't meant to happen. He just hated pink freaking biscuits.

Sunday, February 5, 2023



Milk Wood

Ding, ding, ding.
No one's home, not even the one you're looking for.
And who am I looking for, he thought. He didn't know.
Ding, ding, ding.
Why isn't anyone here? He didn't know.
And he thought he was special.
Ding, ding, ding.
The harder he hit that bell, the angrier he got.
He was the one, he was THE one.
Ding, DING.
Anyone? Someone?
When they finally caught up with him, he was at the counter, hitting that bell with hatred in his eyes.
"Back home with you, mister."
Home? Superman never dresses in white. He hated home.

Sunday, January 29, 2023

Carrot Creep


Time Remains

The man looked at him sideways.
"What's up?"
The man didn't reply and looked away while scratching the rust out of the bench with a pocket-knife.
"You new here?"
The man shrugged.
"Better be careful."
The man had one eye. The other was white, empty of life.
"Do you have a carrot?"
"A carrot?"
The man nodded and waited.
"That's how I lost my eye."
"Are you looking to lose the other too?"
The man grinned a toothless grin and walked away.
"A carrot... Creep. They've opened the doors at the funny farm again. Hope no one dies this time."

Sunday, January 22, 2023



Milk Wood

Diet is such a wonderful word, he thought. The thought of restraining yourself from eating what you want is delightful. Saying "no, thank you, I am full" when you've been eyeing that food for the past half hour is enchanting. And the taunting sneers... They think those "no, thank yous" are as fake as their boobs and their mustaches tinted black. And when, in a moment of sheer restraint, you stab just one of them in the eye, then all is well. You don't have to worry anymore. You'll eat what's given to you. Diet is such a wonderful word.