Sleep Taketh Away

Picture this.

It’s getting dark outside.  In my case, it’s not dark yet… it’s summertime, and in addition to the horrible heat, the days are very long.  I have work at six a.m., so I get in bed right as it’s getting dark, and head out the door right as it’s getting light out.  This is all beyond the point.  Anyways…

It’s getting dark outside.  You lay down in bed, but you can’t yet fall asleep.  Your head is full of thoughts.  I have this/that to do at work tomorrow.  Let’s not think about that.

Let’s think pleasant thoughts.  A story.  A plot.  A book.  I have it!  I know what the characters are, the conflict, the conclusion.  It’s a best seller.

If the thought survives to the morning, your morning shower thoughts may reveal to you that it lacks many things that proper story require, most importantly any details that may make it even readable.  However, most of the time, you wake up, and realize that all those great things in your mind from the previous night are gone.

Lesson learned, bring a notebook to your bedside.

In simple terms: note to self: make more notes to self.

Eye of the Goat

(This is another prompt from Reddit.)

One day, while talking with your friends, they ask how long has your family being in a cult. You have no idea what they mean and they start discussing your family’s “traditions.”

Listen man, I don’t know if I want to join your family for dinner again…

Why’s that?  I know my mom makes stuff kind of bland, but you should definitely try my dad’s barbecue.

It’s not that, I just feel uncomfortable around your family.  Your version of… grace is a bit… different.  Off-putting, actually.

I’m sorry; I forgot you aren’t really religious.  I should have told you before about how my family practices.

Fake goat blood is beyond practicing.  I think your parents have it down.  By ‘it’, I mean the ‘crazies,’ like really.Continue reading “Eye of the Goat”

Cleanup on Aisle Seven [Prompted]

“Bleach.  I can’t remember the last time I picked some up.”  He looked down at his stained shirt.  At one point, it used to be white, but that was a long time ago.  “I guess I’ll go by menswear after this…”

It had been weeks since he last saw anybody.  Looking presentable was the last of his worries.  The bleach wasn’t for washing clothes, though.  Just a few tiny drops are enough to keep a whole gallon drinkable when you don’t have time to sit down and watch it boil.  Few places had running water left, and it was probably questionable at best.

“I don’t need that much; I’ll save myself the load and put it in a small container…”  He looked up at the signs hanging from the ceiling.  In the darkness, they were hard to read.  A couple of aisles down, he found shelves of Tupperware and other containers.  They were still mostly all in place.  The whole store, in fact, seemed more intact than others he had searched through.  In fact, it was spotless.  He wondered if it was just the fact that the store was lacking its usual odd and dirty assortment of customers.Continue reading “Cleanup on Aisle Seven [Prompted]”

Three Types of Animal

I don’t always get deli sandwiches (to be honest, I get sick of even seeing them,) but when I do, I go all out.  It’s a result of too much daydreaming while being surrounded by food at work.

kr

Aren’t I lucky this isn’t an art blog?  I could have gotten in cut in half, but that would have ruined the eating experience.

So we have:
Mayo/Brown Mustard
Pastrami
Bacon
Chicken Tender/Finger/Strip
Provolone Cheese
Tomato/Pickle
Olive Mix

Yes, that has the meat of three different animals.  I hope no one got the impression this was going to be healthy.

 

Hell To Pay

He fumbled the stick of chalk.  It was still greasy from its soak the night before.  His hands shook.  The chalk was slowly disintegrating with each line added to the rune.  Working in a circle, the bits of plaster from the crumbling ceiling were pushed aside.  His knees felt sore against the hard floor.  It was all coming together.  The rumbling in the distance grew louder.

He scraped his knuckles against the rough floorboards, holding the stub with the tips of his fingers.  Double check the design.  The dust was saturated with the blood of a chicken that was unfortunate enough to cross his path the day before.  Blood, no matter from what source, was a necessary conductor.  After draining it of its life force, it was all he could do to consume a few mouthfuls of the raw meat to keep his strength up.  Making a fire to cook it would have given him away.  Besides, he needed his last few matches for this.  Candles dripped hot wax along the walls of the room.  Their flames faltered and flickered with the gusts of wind that leaked in through the cracks in the walls.  The winds of war.Continue reading “Hell To Pay”