Go big or go home meant Lilly was going home
Reaching for the strap she felt the subway lurch away from the station
At least she had come close, or at least she tried to convince herself of that
Now it was over and her bed would be the only one calling
Daring her dreams to try to be that big again she began to silently cry
Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b8/New_NYC_subway_train.jpg
No one ever sets out to become a killer. There is always an inciting incident that pushes one to cross that line from believing human life is sacrosanct to it being discretional. It can be trauma, either real or perceived. It can be reprogramming of the brain, either willingly or not. It can be the realization that humans are still animals and as such not special. That’s what happened to me. Now I sit here at my keyboard with this manifesto on the screen and wonder if they will remember my middle name. I’ll never know of course. Carpe diem!
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Boing, boing, boing went Maurice’s heart down the stairs
Outside he kept his happy face pasted on
Underneath he was screaming and sobbing uncontrollably
No one had told him how to handle the rejection
Counting to ten he smiled weakly at the cashier
Everything had to be put back because his checking account said so
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Reginald waved his hands in the complex gesture and used his will to force the universe to make the impossible possible. The stone split down the middle and fresh water trickled out.
“That’s it?” The young man had a bowl haircut, and that was the least awkward thing about him.
Reginald took out his handkerchief, and after wetting it in the trickle, dabbed his forehead. “You make water come out of the stone and then you can judge.”
“But Simeon Galbrath made a new tributary for the White River out of a grassy knoll. You said he was a hack.”
Reginald folded back up his handkerchief and put it away. “He is a hack. I out-dueled him like fifty-three moons ago.”
The young man gestured at the trickle as a rebuttal.
“I told you. The time of magick is passing. The costs are so great that it almost isn’t worth it.”
“That’s not what Lucinda said. She said you’re getting old and senile.”
Reginald was about to say something, but the young man cut him off. “I’m wondering if she’s right and I’m wasting my time. I’m not getting younger you know.”
Reginald took in a breath to speak, but again the young man continued. “I mean look at that.” He gestured at the trickle. “I think your magick is just shriveled like your manhood.”
“You think so? Let me show you my magick.” Reginald began to wave his hands around.
The young man shifted his weight to his back foot and folded his arms in front of him. “Try to impress me old man.”
Reginald grabbed as much of the universe as he dared and forced his will upon it once more. This time the universe protested, sending Reginald to his knees, leaving him gasping for breath as his heart threatened to burst from his chest. Finally the spots began to clear and Reginald slowly got up.
In front of him the young man was nowhere to be seen, but a small adolescent goat with the most horrendous bowl shaped hair on his head brayed mournfully.
Reginald smiled evilly at the goat. “That was worth it.”
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Projecting out into the student filled room
Ronald felt the thrill of performing again
Oh the joys of the beginning of the semester
Fresh faces full of hope and promise
Everyone eager to feast upon very utterance
Still Ronald knew that this honeymoon would be short lived
Since he had two homework assignments to give due on day two
Ordinarily that should trouble his inner child
Reality was his inner child moved away from home a long time ago for not paying rent
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Counting the seconds until this ordeal is over
Listening to the bits of sand fall from the virtual hourglass in my mind
Oblivious to the alarms screaming to do something
Can’t take much more of this for my bum ticker
Killing time was never my thing
Image: i2.wp.com/www.stridentconservative.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Broken-clock.jpg
When push comes to shove
It didn’t really matter if he chose white or black socks
Going along those lines socks were totally optional even
Glenn still sat there in his boxers, trying to figure out what to do
Looking at the rest of his intended outfit he smiled ruefully
Eventually he had to choose
Really there was only one decision that could make him happy
On went one black sock, then one white sock
Obviously if he got sick of them he could take them off
Making that the best decision he made that day
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The parts taunted Ginger in Mr. Johnson’s voice as she stared at the pile. Somewhere in there was the robot she envisioned, but it was up to her to tease out that idea.
She started picking up motors and wires, controllers and microprocessors. One part after another got attached to the superstructure. Coding commenced, and the motors sprang to life.
After a few hard weeks she was done. What sat in front of her wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. It was better because it was her creation. Stick that in your face Mr. Johnson! Girls can do engineering!
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Giving his best had always been Amir’s motto, but others just wanted a hand out
Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out an extra twenty and handed it over
And just like magic, his truck would be the next one unloaded.
Funny how feeding greed made Amir sick to his stomach
Too bad he had to keep a two liter of Pepto-Bismol close at hand
She looked out from her bedroom doorway at her new boyfriend
Even now he impressed her by doing the dishes without being asked
Xenial and courteous, he was the consummate gentleman
Yes, he was also hotter than hell, especially as he cleaned
The towel she had wrapped around her fell to the ground
It was left behind as she sauntered into the kitchen
Moving up behind him, she turned him around, enjoying his reaction
Eventually the dishes would get finished
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Stories and photos from Scotland
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We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
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