Throw (an acrostic poem)

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Tossing insults like darts and getting bullseyes

He smiled at the silent marks drinking their cheap whiskey from the bottle

Reaching for a cigarette, he lit it and blew smoke at them

Only there still wasn’t a peep.  He closed his eyes and took another drag

Which is why he didn’t see the bottle fly into his nose

Zombified (a 100 word story)

The call for brains escaped Bob’s mouth.  He remembered the good old days before the blight had swept the realm.  Brains were everywhere, plentiful if a bit pickled in the alcohol and first and second hand cigarette smoke.  Over time the smoke for the most part cleared, but then the new blight began to spread.  More and more zombies were created, leaving him starved for the brains he craved.  Still Bob soldiered on, looking for that most precious commodity.  Those damn screens have destroyed so many brains, leaving Bob to lecture at those zombies instead of teaching.  Brains.  Brains!  BRAINS!