|A Bad Haircut
The light in the bathroom was dim, an old plain bulb in a ceramic socket precariously hanging from the wall. The light bulb emitted a yellowish glow, only casting visibility because the entire room was white. From its cracking, plaster ceiling down to the dingy tile crawling halfway up the wall from the floor, the room was a monotonous, dirty white. However, the muted light in the bathroom was the least of his problems, albeit, an immediate concern. David Boroughs had more difficulties than the lack of illumination in a space that he spent little time. Except for today, he usually wasted no more than an hour a day in the shabby room, unlike the other rooms of his apartment in which he spent every waking moment. In fact, on the list of his current dilemmas, he would have placed the dim bulb far behind his lack of employment, of friends, of money, and of relationships, none of which he could see either. Yes, he would have also positioned the diffuse difficulty even behind the terrible haircut that he had just given himself, although the shadowy room had helped cause this new problem. The aging thirty-year old had too... more...
Published on 07/31/2009
A half assed tale of unfinished business “Damn!” He spat, frozen in mid stride, he glared at the headline. He then continued to walk down the street, muttering to himself and God as he chewed more than smoked the butt end of a camel non filtered cigarette. The murder rate for the city was up, way up and it wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Why should it even concern him what these fools do. Anyway, he was on his way, to the library to pound out the latest revision his much hyped and much late theater play. The wind whipped up and sent his oversized trench coat fluttering in the breeze. A few drops of rain begin to fall. A lucky drop managed to put the camel butt out of its misery. However, the misery of its former host continued unabated. Broadus Knowles had lived this dead pan city for close to three years now. He wanted out but some local success mixed with a self imposed guilt due to estranged family ties kept him tethered to his post like a wild mustang relegated to a children’s pony ride farm. Another, “Damn!” He thought he would... more...
Published on 06/06/2009
A tale of murder, suspense and quite possibly the end and beginning of the world (in that order). Leporidae Rex is an ongoing story told in blog format: http://leporidaerex.blogspot.com/ Comments are very much appreciated. more...
Published on 01/24/2009
|Me and Myself and My Son: A Shitty Story
A man was defecating on my England hotel room floor as I walked in. He looked over and squinted at the new light surrounding me from the hallway. I shut the door and said,” The bathrooms over there, buddy.” It was All Hallows Evening and I wondered if this was a trick or a threat. I don’t know how he got into my room, either. He must have been friends with that German bellboy downstairs. The man was wearing a white shirt with green paint splattered all over it, and no pants. His face was skewed and gray from lack of light. He stood hunched over, his knees shaking as he held himself over an imaginary toilet. A long, stubborn turd tangled and then dropped. He looked at me, calm and relived. “Would you show some compassion and get me some tissues?” he asked. I threw him one of my undershirts that was lying on the bed. The only light now was coming from the bathroom, where I noticed an arm caught in rigor mortis jutting out from the bathroom floor. “And what’s that?” I asked pointing to the arm. I knew what it was, but I wondered if it... more...
Published on 01/21/2009