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.

Sunday, March 19, 2023

Block

Kronbelt

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.

Sunday, March 12, 2023

Together

 

Bridgetown


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

Range

 

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?"
"No."
"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

Scroll

 

Island of Lost Dreams


"The scroll, please"
Amidst the perplexing disarray of intentions (everyone darted in different directions), one of the monks tripped.
"So?"
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

Host

 

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

Superhero

 

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."
Ding...
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

Diet

 

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.

Sunday, January 15, 2023

Your Honor

 

Time Remains


"Your Honor, I must protest."
"Object?"
"Ok, object."
"Grounds?"
The lawyer shuffled through his papers.
"Your Honor."
"Counselor."
"The thing is..."
"Yes?"
The lawyer shuffled through his papers again.
"Your Honor, I..."
"Counselor, I am losing my patience. If you object, you must specify the grounds for your objection."
"The footage is inadmissible."
"Why?"
"It's a film reel. How are we supposed to..."
"Is that my problem, Counselor?!"
"I must protest, your Honor."
"Object, Counselor, object. Get out of my courtroom. Out!"
And off the lawyer went, protesting all the way. He should've paid more attention at Law School indeed.

Sunday, January 8, 2023

Exposed

 

Time Remains


The vase in the shape of a giraffe was the reason for many arguments in the Employees (the gang) Only room. Some said it was a deer, others a dog, others whatever. Though the "whatevers" would frequently win, she insisted it was a giraffe. She enjoyed being a nuisance, the vortex of all disagreements. When management decided she had to be promoted, the gang threw the giraffe in the garbage out of spite. That's when they discovered a mic. This is how you go from being oh, so happy for being a nag to... oh my god, I was fired.

Sunday, January 1, 2023

Horror On The Subway

 

Time Remains


"Horror on The Subway" was the title of her latest book. A massive success. The aliens, assisting the newest rotation of settlers, were huge fans. When they realized she was visiting the base, they spent days putting out arrows. We laughed because the base was pretty easy to find and the arrow system was simply chaotic. No one saw it coming. Her ship did some odd twists and turns till it just vanished. Those arrows weren't showing the way. They seized the controls! "Where is she?!" The aliens whistled distractedly, a skill they had recently picked up from us humans.

Sunday, December 25, 2022

Put That Thing Down

Milk Wood



"Put that thing down now," the owner said.
That thing was the spycam, the evidence of foul play.
It was all over the news.
They found cameras in all the rooms. The hotel was closed and the police ripped every mirror and every lamp off the walls. They tossed the furniture aside. They emptied the drawers and shoved them onto the floor.
It was their job, they said.
"This will cost a fortune..."
Well, not really.
The manager held “that thing” up.
"They missed this one. And it has the footage of the cops destroying everything."
"Blessed be the taxpayer."

Sunday, December 18, 2022

Speed

 

Wintersweet


It was great to live in a remote village. No hurry. No stress. And no pollution, they told him, a stern look on their faces. He got rid of the car, of course. He wouldn't want to antagonize the villagers. One day, he dropped a knife on his foot (don't ask) and there was no doctor close by. It looked bad... He wrapped his foot up and they said "take this, it's fast". Well... not. The darn moped died three times on him. And when he reached the doctor, there was an odd bird hopping behind him. No stress, huh?


Sunday, December 11, 2022

Anaheim

 

Time Remains

"Check the map. Where's Anaheim?"
"Oh, it's a place? Sounded like a name."
"It's the name of a place. But did you know that Heim is home in German?"
"I wonder if we'll meet Ana there."
"Where?"
"At her home."
"What?"
"It'd be a great name for a pub. Ana's Pub. Open 24/7!"
"What are you talking about?!"
"Anaheim, the pub."
"Anaheim isn't a pub. It's a huge city."
"Is it open 24/7 like Ana's pub?"
"No. It's closed. Let's check the map and go to Los Angeles instead."
"Ah, Ana, the Angel."
"Stop it! Stop it now!"

Sunday, December 4, 2022

Irresistible

 

Wintersweet

It was irresistible.
Tick tock, tick tock.
3am.
Tick tock, tick tock.
Let the hunt begin.
The silence of a heartbeat on the wall.
3am and here we go, three hours till dawn.
I have mapped it all out in my head. Left, left, right and left.
And there'll be the gate.
Tick tock, tick tock.
I won't run this time. I'll zigzag from shadow to shadow. Quietly. Slowly.
Tick tock.
The door creaked a loud alarm.
Tick tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
And I ran. I just ran.
But... I was caught again.
Tick...
I was caught...
Tock.

Sunday, November 27, 2022

The Way We Were

 

Il Nido

The way we were always using the wrong words was a waterproof ticket to getting ourselves into a bottomless pit of trouble. It was definitely not safe to poke the beast but we insisted on doing it. At some point, we even came up with a language of our own. "Speaking in an unknown language won't get you out of this mess," she said, her eyes rolling in a remarkably odd way. We wanted to laugh but we didn't, of course. Instead, we underlined random words in her books. Till this day, she keeps trying to figure it all out.
100 Word Stories
 

Sunday, November 20, 2022

Heated Record

 

Il Nido


He told her the coffee sucked.
She didn't take it lightly.
He sneered. The situation was funny.
She said "no". As a matter of fact, she heated a cup and threw it at his face.
He didn't think the situation was funny anymore.
She laughed because now she thought it was hilarious.
He didn't laugh.
She told him "chill". Coffee was just coffee.
He said that coffee wasn't just coffee a minute ago.
The burn mark on his face cost her a few years of her life.
Sometimes laughing becomes a serious matter, especially when you already have a record.