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Whose Stuff Is This?
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Stuff I Want You to Read
Stuff in Buckets
Stuff You Missed…?
I – One Potato, Two
“What a stupid show!” Edge flipped the TV off and tossed the remote on the table in disgust. “I can’t believe you made me sit through another entire season of that crap!”
“No one screwed your ass to the couch,” Jim retorted. He picked up an ornate water bong from Continue reading
I was six when Nana first rescued me from the mundane world of the concrete. Other kids got their stories about fairies from Peter Pan and Fern Gully. I got mine from the nasturtium in Nana’s garden. Nana died when I was twenty, but in the fourteen years she blessed me with, she never ceased to offer me the sanity of believing in a world that wasn’t defined by fair values, crossing streets at the crosswalk, and stories previously written. Life, she said, is always more than meets the eye.
She was bed-ridden for the last few weeks before her death. Emphysema was suffocating her slowly and she seemed content in accepting that fate. I couldn’t watch her die. It was too much for me, a threat to everything she’d taught me. Her loving Continue reading
Seven-year-old Dani sat shivering in her bath. The light above the tub was off. It should have been on, but it was off, leaving the bathroom dimly lit, enough to see her body, just enough to make her feel naked and alone. Nothing is worse than being alone… except not being alone.
Her arms were hugged around her legs in vapid, listless indecision, afraid to Continue reading
Uncle Nick had a bump on his head. It wasn’t like the lumps a phrenologist reads, or the normal, swollen result of standing up under a low cupboard without realizing. Nothing like that. It was an ugly, purplish cauliflower to the side of his forehead that just wasn’t natural looking at all. He’d had it for months.
“It’s that God-damned portrait,” he explained, rubbing at the knot as he sipped his coffee Continue reading
“Better to be slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie.”
~ Russian Proverb
I hate the sight of blood. It makes me nauseous, so nauseous I get instant sweats and my knees buckle. But that’s other people’s blood, of course. For some reason, staring at my own was simply fascinating. I suppose that’s Continue reading