Fall Storm

Thousands of baby rats streamed out of the corners and cracks, their tiny pink bodies soon covering the dirty walls and floor.

He bolted awake onto an elbow, breathing heavily and blinking away the huddles of baby rats he saw laying on the carpet.

He laid back down onto the couch and wondered why it was still so dark, though the clock said it was 8:30am. These after work naps where usually the easiest to fall into, with his body and mind exhausted from another night of dull and pointless work.

Then he heard over the radio murmurings of the cattle and crop reports the quiet peal of thunder.

He closed his eyes and tried to make up his mind: try to sleep again or catch what may be the last good storm of the year?

Blindly he reached up and opened the window, feeling the cool Fall breeze blow back the light curtains and fill the room.

He would lay there and wait for where the winds took him.

Only Logical

Woah, get a load of this guy, dragging his peacock around by the tail like some sort of screeching clawed land anchor through the city streets.

People point out that the tail is the prettiest part of the peacock, and what he is doing is making no sense.

He replies that he knows and it makes perfect sense.

If people were allowed to see the the beautiful tail they'd be talking about the peacock, and not about him.

Visitor

Hello?

Yes?

See honey, nobody is here, just like we said.

Oh, I'm here alright.

But I saw him. He was right in the corner.

Honey, it must have been a shadow. Or a dream.

No, it was me.

But I did see him!

She's such a sweet girl, would a pretty face like that lie?

We know you think you saw him, but trust us, nobody is in here.

No! He was! He was tall and ugly and smiling at me!

That hurts my feelings, darling.

Ugh, Tabitha, for the last time, you need to lay down and go to bed.

Yes, Tabitha. Daddy needs his alone time.

Can I sleep with you tonight?

No

No

No. What I mean is...daddy and I want you to try to be a big girl tonight? Okay?

Yes, little girl. Maybe I should show you what they mean.

Okay, now back to bed you go.

Don't worry. I'll take care of her for you.

Okay honey, sweet dreams. We love you.

Goodnight.

Make sure you guys shut the door.

[click]

John Peters is So Cute

That Feels doll, full pale head but only partial body. No arms or legs, just a pink torso with four teats and white detachable suckling pigs. 

It was a steal, the associate told me, the last one they had in stock or would likely have. 

I took it and walked to the register, often checking the price on the tag which was constantly rising.

$69.95 did seem a little high. 

I set it aside and checked out the clearance box. I finally settled on the collection of a young girl's notebook diaries, with their neat scribblings and dream like drawings.

Paving Potter

Horace “Paving” Potter was the most feared and respected man in the whole town.

When people spoke to him they spoke respectfully. When they spoke of him they spoke quietly.

Horace wasn't rich, or a criminal, or even a politician. But he did know all of these.

You see, Paving Potter was just that, a paver for the city that had laid nearly all the streets in town.

And once you knew that, you knew where his power resided.

You see, he didn't know just what it took lay every city street. He knew who was buried beneath them.

Something To Do

Bored, Trevor started to focus on the problems with pressure in his head. It wasn't so much like a vice, but a metal band slowly squeezing inside his skill. 

The doctor couldn't find anything, gave him a placebo, and sent him home. The pills didn't help with the pressure, or the visions. But at least it got him out of the house, and gave him something to tell people in the forum.

Eventually, he learned to live with it, just like the ringing ears, aching jaw, and vertigo. 

It was something he could deal with until the last day when he was on a rare trip outside, and right there on the sidewalk his head imploded.

Those nearby only heard the sound of grinding bone and splatting blood.

A crowd slowly formed around the sprawled body of Trevor, his headless neck spurting brown blood onto the dirty sidewalk.

Life As I Know It

Future me

Hates present me

No matter how much I apologize beforehand

(he'll understand)

Every goddamn time.