Sunday, May 26, 2019

Zone

Kronbelt

A crow perched on a branch of a dead tree. The tree had been dead for a long time.
The crow gazed at the town below. The town was nearly dead. The helipad hadn't been used in years. The lighthouse was off.
The crow watched as they buried one more. Man, woman?
Six people were left alive. They didn't know yet, but they would soon be dead, all of them.
The crow perched on the dead tree and watched them.
The town would soon be his and he would finally be able to get rid of this ridiculous crow disguise.

Sunday, May 19, 2019

Slurp

Tatty Soup


Slurp!
Hey, that's not the way I brought you up.
Slurp...
I won't say it again.
Slurp?
I warn you.
Slurp. Slurp.
Stop it.
Slurp, slurp, slurp.
OK, that's enough. I've had it.
A thunder of stomping feet approached the kitchen while the kids scattered in all directions. Johnny stayed behind, sitting at the table, daring his mother.
Who was it? Come on. Who was it?
No slurping now? Spit it out. Who was slurping?
When the mother finally gave up, Johnny looked at his cup. It was almost empty.
The others' cups were almost full.
He sneered.
Slurp.

Sunday, May 12, 2019

Jack

Waterland

Home sweet home, Jack thought. The day was coming to an end and no one knew where he was. His caravan was his home, at least the home he loved. The place was not much to look at. It desperately needed a bit of paint. The door was gone. That was a long story. However, he was home. When the snake decided to nestle in his bed, Jack wished he had a door. As a result, he spent the night pointing a lamp at the non-existent door and thinking of snake patterns to paint on the side of his caravan.

Sunday, May 5, 2019

Heart Attack

Octoberville


"Yes, I hired it.”
“You hired a heart attack?! How can we hire a heart attack?”
“Talk to it and settle for an amount. Easy.”
The prosecutor looked at the judge. The judge shrugged.
“When did you talk to this heart attack then?”
“Two months ago.”
“And it said it would kill your boss?”
The defendant nodded.
“Are there many heart attacks around doing hit jobs?”
“No, there's only one.”
“And what's its name?”
“Cock-eyed Paulie.”
“Ah, that's why your boss is still alive.”
The room burst into laughter.
A few weeks later, the prosecutor died of a heart attack.