They were pale and pink and puffy people. They wore too much

and it did not keep them warm. Though they arrived on large boats, they did not

return to them or sale away to wherever they were meant to live. Instead they

dug at frozen ground, hunted drunkenly and starved sober. The Woman of Myth

hollowed out a gourd and stuffed it with crops. She held it aloft, commanding, "Give

us your poor and your tired."







(One of over a thousand posts from The… Continue

I don't have one favorite writer, so I'm not going to name who this is. If I did a good job, you can guess it!



It's well known to those who know it that every six sentence story has seven sentences. How it got there, what it is about and if it made her point clear are matters entirely unknowable to the artist. Contemplating it is like contemplating God insofar as, as one micro-philosopher put it, "You can't do it." Not contemplating it is also ill-advised, though, as it leads… Continue

Werewolf threw his arm onto the table and yelled, “If you think you’re the toughest thing that goes bump in the night then prove it, pretty boy!”



“How about I arm wrestle you tomorrow night?” Vampire asked with a toothy smirk. The full moon would be gone then, and the whole bar knew it.



Werewolf tried to jump the table, but Boogeyman caught him around the waist and pulled him back.



“It’s not worth it, man!”



They kept squabbling, not realizing they’d… Continue

Grandfather wanted him to be a Baptist, but the boy was one of experiences and emotions, not study, and certainly not pews. Grandfather threw the book at him, he ran from reading, and the two didn’t speak until the old man only had a few months left.



Their only conversation ran short, even though the boy said he’d recently started reading and liked Huck Finn. The dying old man barked that he needed a Bible, and Shakespeare, and Hemingway, and more and more until the boy simply walked… Continue

What punk it was that set the cross ablaze in their yard, none of them knew. There were guesses, with only so many people so low in Fleetwater, and fewer spotted fleeing neighborhood as the Cartwrights desperately tried to beat out the burning symbol of salvation. The old Cartwrights were studied Methodists, but the young were new to the game and didn’t quite grasp symbolism. The young Cartwrights went about with oil and wood, and that next morning every potential offender awoke to burning… Continue