The room after life

the room after life

The caffeine delivery system wasn’t working as efficiently as normal. Here was the soothing hot water with its familiar taste warming the back of his mouth, but the morning fog wasn’t lifting. The jolt of go-get-them wasn’t jolting. It all just didn’t seem as urgent as before.

The events of the last 48 hours hardly seemed real. The visit by the mysterious stranger, the delivery of the unbelievable package, and the struggle for sanity – it all melted into one confusing ball that seemed beyond his reason to suss out.

He took another sip of the coffee, then buried his upper lip into the mug to pull in a full gulp. Come ON, brain, he commanded silently, make all this make sense. If the puzzle wasn’t solved by 10 o’clock this morning, the courier would go back without what they were demanding of him, and the game would be lost. Continue reading

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The monster under the bed

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“I’m the monster under the bed,” the boy cried.

“That’s nice,” said Mom. “What makes you a monster?”

“Well, I – I roar and I scare little boys.”

“You ARE a little boy,” she said. “Do you scare yourself?”

He looked thoughtful. “Sometimes.”

This gave Mom pause.

“Why do you scare yourself?”

“Well – that’s what monsters do! I wouldn’t be much of a monster if I didn’t scare myself sometimes.”

“OK, how do you scare people?”

“I don’t want to scare YOU, Mom.”

“Oh, come on, I like being scared.”

“You do?”

“It can be fun.”

“Well – I eat them.”

“You eat people?”

“Yep.”

“How do you get your mouth big enough to eat someone?”

“I think that’s what scares them.”

“Oh, this I gotta see.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Come on, son, scare me.”

“You won’t like it.”

“I promise, I’ll like it. It sounds cute.”

“Well, OK.”

Dad came home a few hours later.

“Where’s Mom?” he asked the little boy, who shrugged and crawled under the bed.

“What are you doing under the bed, son?”

“Come see.”

Story: The Wings

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He looked out over the horizon and saw vast possibilities. He looked down and saw a vast drop.

“Go ahead,” said the man in the tousled white hair. “Jump, and build your wings on the way down.”

“Can’t,” he whispered.

“Come on, buddy,” said the man, pulling off his horn-rimmed glasses and wiping them carefully. “What did the little elf say – ‘Do or do not. There is no try’? You haven’t even been trying lately, have you?” Continue reading

Story: The Room

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“Don’t think,” said the man with the white mane. “Just open the spigot and be surprised by what comes out.”

And then he walked away.

I wanted to cry out, “Don’t think? But I can’t stop thinking,” but I had no voice.

So I stopped thinking.

Suddenly a spot appeared on the wall, which grew and grew until there was a hole large enough to step through. I could see that the room beyond was not the same room I would have found had I cut through the wall, and so, curious, I stepped through the hole. Continue reading

scene 8

scene 8

(scene 1, part 1)  (scene 1, part 2) (scene 2)(scene 3)(scene 4)(scene 5)(scene 6)(scene 7)

It’s bad enough that Buzz always made comments about the aliens wanting to fatten us up for meals. It was worse that the morgue reminded me of a commercial kitchen with the stainless steel door on the cooler and all the stainless shelving and equipment.

“Won’t take long,” the sheriff said as he walked me down the corridor and through the swinging door to the place where they housed the recently departed for processing. “This is the tough part.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Poor Buzz. He didn’t deserve to die early.”

I didn’t mean for that to come out as an accusation, and I hoped it didn’t sound that way because it might signal that I knew more about what happened a few hours earlier than I was letting on. No such luck, as usual. Continue reading