ought to have just stayed home. This whole cryptic mess was mighty chilling at points. I tucked my arms sharply into my vest pockets and looked for where my daughter might have run

just walked away from the match, right then and there. The crowd erupted in euphoric victory, lifting Ben and his sticky-sweet hands and face above their heads. Surprisingly,

that right, young ones? My audience of newlyborn nod their heads. One sucks a finger. "Mister Mylhelmm, I think I see one now," babbled one, swaying a finger towards the hulking

probably can't even decipher what I'm saying, however. Silly me. I imagine a strand of buckwheat hangs between your lip and your fractured smile, the brim of your straw hat arching

spitting hot, mutating plumes of flame onto a paper, real or digital. Myself, I prefer the art of sitting in silence and listen to the wind carry my chimes softly into one another.

I tend to use my poetic license quite a bit. I see others run to their sources to check how many fingers the Bishop of Carcasonne used to bless his flock while I just made him up.

I saw that bastard coming. Had no choice. He was going to hit us. I pushed his car away. I nudged it. I SLAMMED THAT CAR INTO THE WALL AND THE RIVER!!! Bastard had it coming, And

I sliced the top of the green pepper. The first of three that would soon be stuffed, cooked, and stuffed again. I love stuffed peppers. Inside the pepper was a scrolled note. The n

actions of the minions a stage play for the director, Adam would be alright. Nobody wants to live in a fishbowl. Not even fish! God asked Adam, "Does she

a witch. The swamp green face. The claw-like fingers. Any zombie alive would be dying for a piece of that. I placed my hand on my heart and punctured it. Then I moved it over and

I had never been to Paris and I've never been back but that dream out in back paints it up as something I'd really like to do but alas it wasn't in the cards. I had too many Major

I believed the lie that was ennui and practiced a religion of angry apathy and confusion as fact. I kept the small hours locked in the dungeon of my lost soul's containment field.

The Mormons were packing their numbers in the afterlife by baptising everybody when they died whether they had been a Mormon or not. So even a Buddhist was counted as Mormon there.

importance in light of the nature of the Received. It was not touched by Time nor by emotion, nor by reluctance to do what it needed to do. The Receiver's neck snapped and the Rec

The horse spread truths thickly and they were eventually recognized as the Road Apples of the Ending of Fate. There were some hermits who were working on a better title but that is

Casper was right he had been a scoundrel to his mother's backside but even in a free a G's mother's backside was off limits and without limits… besides they had the same mother!

When he was our General Custer. He was hired to become the martyr that Manifest Destiny needed. In this case the need met the want & although still not happy, the people could live

Nurse and my rectal speculum", asked Jim-Bo. Having already clenched up at the sound of the gloves snapping, Cletus was still open enough to find the watch the zombie left behind.

I found myself in the same story again of having to clear the cookies I left behind on my last foray through these dark times. I couldn't pretend that the stakes were so low, that

The lanky skeleton sits fully erect, then suddenly pushes himself up to a standing position, shock filling his non-existent features. "GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY, IT'S ALL GONE TO SHIT!"