Creative Writing
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The End of a New Season
Our white-haired fathers are sending missiles to obliterate philosophies and the hungry Continue reading
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The Amoopikans (Last part)
Sally and Mary Jane were huddled around a candle in the kitchen, whispering. “I think you should call a doctor,” Sally said. “There’s obviously something very wrong with him.” “Look, he’s got this mental thing, it’s not a big deal,” Mary Jane said, trying to deflate the issue of Jack’s state of mind. “Not a… Continue reading
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The Amoopikans (First part)
Mary Jane’s fine porcelain skin had a pinkish hue as she twaddled about her sun-drenched apartment watering her plants and trying to remember where she put her television set. Then she saw the busted window. Then she saw the broken shards of glass on her cranberry and gold colored carpet and remembered. She remembered how… Continue reading
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Bucky the Horse and the Gods of Radiation (5)
Linnifrid was hungry, but she had nothing to eat. Her stomach grumbled. “I would give anything for a steaming pot pie right now,” she moaned aloud to the flames and the darkness. “I can just imagine the flaky crust, the creamy gravy, the crisp garden-fresh vegetables.” Continue reading
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Bucky the Horse and the Gods of Radiation (4)
There was some blood, and she wet a finger and ran it across one of the scrapes and then stuck it in her mouth. “Everyone likes the taste of their own blood,” she softly said to herself. Continue reading
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Bucky the Horse and the Gods of Radiation (3)
The air was dead still and full of natural carnage. Papa shielded his eyes from the strange bright light with a worn hand. He moved his head against the horizon and surveyed the landscape — everything was wiped clean. He turned and yelled down the cellar. “The barn is gone, and all my new fencing,… Continue reading
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Bucky the Horse and the Gods of Radiation (2)
“I don’t mind tree huggers, but I draw the line at ass lookers… No, you dumb horse, take a gander at how much I’ve gotten carved up over the years. I imagine there are a ton of goofy love hearts and chick’s names back there, but I can’t really see so you have to tell… Continue reading
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Bucky the Horse and the Gods of Radiation (1)
At the end of gravity, only the heartless still eat and smile and roll around in the dirty motel cities of the West… The dystopian nature of her guts made Linnifrid’s mouth taste like the moon. She looked up at it now as she sat on a grassy knob in some wayward rolling meadow of… Continue reading
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Albuquerque French Fries
The mountains in Albuquerque are to the east. In most places I’ve lived, they were to the west. I always found that to be a bit strange, but maybe it’s not. But I was on the east side of Albuquerque, close to the mountains, when I was suddenly struck with an insatiable desire for French… Continue reading
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Bong Clerk
I felt a Rikki Tikki Tavi ghost ship cut through my spleen as I walked across the lot and into the shoppe. The place smelled of incense and painted wood and old linoleum and lingering clouds of grass. Continue reading
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