CEREAL AFTER SEX

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A man with glasses and a beard is sitting in a chair, slightly tilting his head, with a patterned wall in the background.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Aaron Echoes August is an independent writer focused on absurdist fiction, edgy philosophy, and cultural commentary. With a background in creative writing, art, and photography, he explores the stranger aspects of human behavior and its influence on the world. His narratives invite readers to question societal norms and delve into the bizarre intersections of reality and imagination, urging us to confront the absurdities of existence while searching for meaning amidst chaos. In his stories, the ordinary becomes extraordinary, revealing layers of complexity in mundane experiences.

The Apocalypse Pipe, Collected Works of Aaron Echoes August, is available now. More info HERE.

I’m excited to announce my book, The Apocalypse Pipe, will be promoted on Smashwords for half price as part of their End of Year Sale 2025 starting on December 8! Find it here: http://smashwords.com/sale

Category: Short Bites

  • Ass Apples

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    I didn’t see her standing there as I was pushing the apple cart. Then I heard her make a terrible noise. Something akin to a woman falling down the escalator at a mall in Nashville. It wasn’t really a scream; it was more like an exaggerated moan. Agghhhoooh, umph. “Stop!” someone yelled. “You hit her!” Read more

  • Serenity Salad

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    I ate a pre-made salad in the breakroom yesterday It was quiet at first But then the numbnuts started rolling in Youthful oblivion The complaining old People about to burst People who just can’t shut up About Dungeons and Dragons Artificial girlfriends Horror movies Misinformed politics The bosses The company… Most of the time I Read more

  • Evaporation

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    Time evaporates like water in Death Valley Saturday sweaters feel good in cold winter houses A man looks out the large picture window in the living room The streets are still save for one lone kid tramping through the snow He looks up to the sky, stretches his arms out And begins to fly Read more

  • The Winter King

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    Embers remember the coach light And there, a pale December sun Beckons the black birds to rise To carry a crown to the new winter king A pin drop calls his name The lands are that quiet The restless spirits that roam the hills and valleys Take cautious steps from the other side Wishing wells Read more

  • White Russian

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    When everything is fake like snakes And the lemons are made of wood And the faces are made of mud and evil I sit upon the throne of mundane jewels And wonder what the cable car smells like On the edge of an ice cliff I stand Look out over white Russia while drinking a Read more

  • City of Machines

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    I can see my tangled soul reflected in the winter lenses of an office building in the factory district. The background is sun and discomfort. A broken man sits on a bench holding a sign that reads: Why can’t I ever win? I walk through the city of stacks. No voices, only machines. They’re building Read more

  • Head Injury and Hot Dogs

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    A young girl fell out of a grocery cart in the meat department today. I was right there, looking at chicken when it happened. The rubbery thudding smack her head made against the polished floor was highly audible and excruciating. It rattled my guts. She immediately began to cry, and her mother went to her Read more

  • Broken

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    Broken window puffs off the path. The dander of anger shaken from the tree limbs of devastating life. What being am I? Where do I exist? The red clam-colored house in the woods. Ancient two-story architecture. Humble seeds scattered upon the portico. Hazy windows with shadows inside. A bandolier of broken trees, broken dreams, broken Read more