Alien Visitation
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Depressed Machines (Part Three)
Then appears in low dramatic light: A TV screen of liquid green. The sprawling appendages of a tree in a heavy pot. A couch. A coffee table. A chair. An end table with a stack of books and a lamp spewing soft, minty light. Windows with white curtains. And in this room there the white… Continue reading
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The Alien
I was standing in the grocery store looking at bread. My mind was kind of numb. I was thinking about a dream I had the night before where I placed an unwrapped Baby Ruth candy bar on the floor of a stall in a public bathroom and just left it there. Then I started laughing… Continue reading
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The Moldy Oranges of God
The walls of the room where I was being kept were a sickly yellowish orange color. Perhaps more akin to the color of a bleached peach. On one of the walls was a large painting of a maniacal-looking man holding a moldy orange in each of his hands. Continue reading
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A Proper Breakfast Though Alienated
I cut up some of the sausages and ruptured egg yolks with the pieces and then ate. She studied me as I worked my mouth and then swallowed. “It’s much deeper than that. It goes into her crazy dreams and her longing for real love. She has a very complicated mind.” Continue reading
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The Angelfish of Giza (Excerpt 3)
Uncas’ car was a brown-colored old Saab that’s seen better days. There was a metallic squeal when Wilburn opened the passenger-side door. The smell inside was odd. There was trash strewn about. “Sorry about the mess,” Uncas said, embarrassed. “My wife and I are having marital problems and I’ve been kind of living in and… Continue reading
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Child of the Cabbage (Ep. 7)
Gracelyn Polk stood in front of her social studies classroom and cleared her throat as she looked down at the paper she held in her hands. She moved her head up, addressed the empty desks with her eyes and smiled. “For my report on the person I most admire, I chose someone that I just… Continue reading
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Child of the Cabbage (Ep. 5)
A bastard chill struck a prophecy of a coming autumn as Astron Puffin sat on a fallen tree deep in the woods. He was looking down at his small but thick hands. He turned them slowly before him, and it was hard to imagine that those were the same hands used to crush their throats.… Continue reading
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