Adventures, poetry, flash fiction, ephemera, fevers, dreams.
I was doing my taxes one day when aliens came down from the sky. This was a strange occurrence, a first, but couldn’t dampen my joy at knowing I would receive a refund.
Her face is inscrutable as she looks into the mirror, standing over me. I wonder what she’s thinking. Her head magically opens and I can see inside, into the computer that is her brain, and the bright lights ping back and forth, and there is a slight hum. She is rubbing me with secretions from a plant in the corner. Mozart plays on the sound system. A cup of hot tea steams in another room, but I can’t see it. You are, she says, but she doesn’t finish the sentence. Maybe she didn’t say you. Maybe she said who. Still, I don’t know what she’s thinking. I’ll kiss her next time.
At lunchtime I went to the park. I lay down on the grass and took a nap. I dreamt there was a large dog frolicking next to me. His name, he said, is Frank. When I woke up there was a cat sitting on my chest, purring. She said her name is Mary. Then I went back to work. And then I vanished.
What a day!
We can keep you alive well beyond one hundred years, but we can’t stop the shrinking.
Some women are impossibly beautiful.
Sorry. Thank you. I know.
Sorry. Thank you, I know.
He still walks in the city park with a hefty walking stick and an angry scowl, not yet ready to accept that criminals no longer prey there, and the happy families now strolling there taunt him in a way he does not understand.