Ground (an acrostic poem)


Gripping the dirt like he was afraid to fall into the sky

Really it was his muscles clenching all at once

Outside the thunder rumbled, marking sonically where he had been zapped

Under those angry clouds, the smell of ozone persisted

Not that the people with the ski masks on noticed.  They were too busy trying to flee, but they

Didn’t have time because Thor stood back up and smiled.  “Now it’s my turn.”

Thunder (an acrostic poem)


The storm crashed through the valley

Heaving tree branches and debris to-and-fro

Until there seemed to a charged pause

Negative particles madly dash from sky to ground

Determined to find a place to rest

Except that outbreak from the heavens causes heated air to flee the scene

Resulting in colder air to rush in and clap at the drama of it all

Thor (an acrostic poem)


The lightning and thunder are at his command

His hand holding a spinning Mjolnir

Outside he looks like he is as calm as the eye of a hurricane

Reality was the true storm was raging inside

Tempest (an acrostic poem)

The storm was coming; she could feel it in her bones

Electrical shocks paused through her emotional system

Making her nerves sizzle, waiting for the other shoe to fall

Penelope didn’t want to be this apprehensive

Everyone has a bad day every once in a while

So she was due, and yet she knew this was different

Thunder rolled across her mental landscape.  Then the downpour started



Demon Slayer (a 100 word story)

I put one more shovelful of dirt over her grave.  The ground looks like hell, and it should.  She was a demon that possessed me.  I worry about her being found and released from her grave to haunt me.  I can hear the rumble of thunder in the distance, though for a moment I worry it is the armies of Hell with her as their general coming to exact revenge.  I laugh at the storm and pull out my gun.  I have killed the devil.  I put the gun to my head and pull the trigger to receive my reward.

To Kill a God

Lightning flashed and thunder rolled.  Fergus and Limey looked out at the storm raging around them.  The tree trunk they were hiding in was mostly dry, but soon the creator of the storm would come by, and then the real problems would begin.  Fergus handed Limey the gun.  Limey tucked it away, and Fergus checked the missile launcher.

Fergus turned to Limey.  “I know you don’t like me, and I don’t like you, but if we need to work together if we’re going to murder Thor,” Fergus said.

“You don’t like me?” asked Limey.  “How can you say that after all we’ve been through?  I think of you as a brother, maybe even closer.”

A flash of lightning, then a count of six, then a boom.  Thor wasn’t far away.  “Did you hear what I said?” Fergus asked after the thunder died down a bit.

“I bought you lunch that one time.  That should garner me a little bit of liking I would suppose,” Limey said.

Fergus grabbed Limey by the shoulders and shook him a bit.  “Focus man, focus!  We only have one chance at this,” Fergus said.

“I even let you get some rice pudding.  I hate rice pudding,” Limey said.  The thunder boomed after just a five count.  “I bet Thor hates rice pudding as well.”

Fergus sighed.  “Thor hates everything except that damn hammer, and the Valkyrie he’s smitten with this week.  What was her name?” Fergus asked.

“Ingrid I believe,” replied Limey.  “Or was it Maradyth?  It’s amazing he can keep hooking up with them and then breaking their hearts.  I mean they are sisters for Odin’s sake.”

Fergus glanced around.  Luckily he didn’t see any crows.  Of course with all this rain they were less likely to be able to be seen either. “Ixnay on the Odinay,” Fergus said.  “We don’t need the big guy handing us our arses for handing Thor’s to his.”

Limey looked at Fergus like he just spoke the great riddle of the sphinx.  “We’re trying to hand Thor’s arse to Odin?” Limey asked.

Fergus whipped his head around.  Was that a raven over there?  The rain was pouring down and the winds were really picking up.  Only three count between the flash and the boom.  Time was getting short.  “No, we are going to hand Thor’s arse to Thor, and we are going to try to keep Odinay out of it,” Fergus said.

Limey’s light bulb went off and he began to nod.  Then he suddenly stopped.  “Who the hell is Odinay and why would he get his you know what stuck in Thor’s arse?”

Fergus closed his eyes and counted to ten.  Unfortunately during that count the flash to boom went down to two seconds.  Fergus regained his control and opened his eyes.  “You’re right my friend.  We should just focus on Thor,” Fergus said.

“But you told me you weren’t my friend,” Limey said.  “And I even bought you that rice pudding that one time.”

Fergus wondered not for the first time why he had brought Limey along.  Then he remembered.  Limey was the only person crazy enough to come with Fergus to try this crazy idea.  It was a one in a million chance, but Fergus needed to stop Ragnarock from taking place for another year and a half.  By then the new Star Wars would be out and Fergus could die happy knowing he would have watched the best movie ever made with one hundred percent more lens flares, guaranteed.

Flash, one Mississippi, boom!   “That’s why I screwed it up.  It’s the rice pudding talking, not me.  I am your friend,” Fergus said.

Limey looked skeptical.  “That rice pudding was quite while back.  It should have gotten out of your system in a matter of six months,” Limey said.

“Oh no, this was Special Forces rice pudding.  It like laid dormant until this morning.  Right now it is holding my brain hostage unless it gets a cheese sandwich,” Fergus said.

Limey grabbed the gun out and pointed it at Fergus’ head.  “I knew it,” Liam said.  “All this talking about Thor’s arse.  That damn pudding has got to get out.  I’ll just shoot it out of your system.”

Flash boom! “Wait don’t worry about Thor’s arse or the pudding,” cried out Fergus.

A male voice boomed from behind Fergus.  “Who is talking about my arse?”

Flash boom BOOM!  Fergus felt the wake of the bullet as it flew past his left ear.  Fergus whipped around to see Thor, the god of thunder, fall to the ground, his hammer dropping from his lifeless fingers.  Already the storm began to dissipate.  A crow flew off in the distance.  That wasn’t going to be good.  Still, Thor was dead, at least for now.

Limey walked past Fergus and up to the hammer.  “Don’t touch it!” yelled out Fergus.

Limey pointed the gun at Fergus.  “You and your rice pudding stay quiet.  You get your movie, I get my souvenir,” Limey said.  He reached down and lifted Thor’s hammer with ease.  As he did so, Limey seemed to transform into a larger, more menacing being.

Fergus looked horrified.  “Loki!  You were Limey?”

Loki smiled.  “Watch your movie.  I have an arse whipping ahead of me.  Dad, is not going to be happy when I play hide the hammer.  Take care Fergus, and may the Force be with you.”  With that Loki slammed the hammer handle on the ground and disappeared.

Fergus looked at the body of Thor and the missile launcher next to him.  Fergus picked up the missile launcher, pointed it at Thor’s body, and pressed the trigger.  The launcher made a bunch of beeping noises and Fergus realized he shouldn’t have trusted the god of lies.  “Damn you Loki!” was the last thing he said before the explosion got rid of all the evidence.

The Coming Storm

The dark clouds race across the horizon.  Their arrival announced by the fleeing wind and the bass rumble of discontent.  Lightning flashes raise the hairs on the back of my neck and I try to stare the storm down.  I gather the energy pushing against me, and with the thrust of my hands, push back.  The effort has little to no effect and I feel heartbroken.  This would have worked if there was really magic in the world, I’m sure of it.  The sky opens up, mocking me as I am drenched by some of the largest rain drops I have ever seen.  Lightning takes pictures of me as I slowly walk to the house under the mocking laughter of thunder.  I shake my fist at the storm as I get to my front door.  The thunder goes silent and the rain begins to lesson.   A smile spreads on my face as the sun peaks out from the dark clouds.  Maybe there is magic.  I dance in the puddles of my victory, at least until my mother calls me inside.