In by Chris on December 30, 2009 at 4:41 pm
The silent night sky suddenly flowered with incandescent light. It started at a pinpoint – the distant asteroid Apophis – and bloomed across the dome of the heavens.
In the Russian Institute of Astronomy, one dour man stood apart from the rest, champagne flute in hand. He lectured to no one. “Deflecting an asteroid that wouldn’t hit Earth? A nuclear demonstration of humanity’s self-preservation?”
The gala was silent as, above, a chain reaction of fission ripped apart the dark matter filling the universe.
The scientist continued. “Majority rules in science, it’s a great idea! Cheers to the end of the world!”
In by Chris on December 29, 2009 at 8:29 pm
Holy moly looks like a white out.
Traffic backed up for miles.
Whatever I don’t need snow.
Snow’s all melted by now.
Oh the weather outside is frightful.
Here, warm yourself by the fireplace, I’ll fix some hot cocoa.
Look at it come down!
Earmuffs. Yes, earmuffs.
Can’t tell if it’s snow or sleet any more.
The trees sure are bent over with it all.
This is so inconvenient.
Oh come oh come you winter wonderland!
It can’t last much longer than this.
Careful out there.
Thank God we’re all home.
Don’t track slush all over the house.
In by Chris on December 29, 2009 at 8:22 pm
The happy daddy long legs snap snappied its wings in joy.
Its six long legs danced and pranced whenever they got the chance.
It was constantly amazed and never ever fazed with life.
It flew from ceilings to walls in kitchens and halls.
The sunlight delighted in its exuberant ebullient flight.
It hung and sung in ecstasy each week of its short time.
Never did it drown or frown in sadness or madness.
But gladness shivered in rivers up and down its abdomen.
Uncontainable, unrestrainable, able only to whir in pure joy.
The happy daddy long legs in its place.
In by Wyatt on December 29, 2009 at 5:24 pm
Her breath reverberated around her skull like a bouncy ball flung in a prison cell. The earth was thirty feet below her. She wasn’t falling.
She was floating above it, peering down with amused curiosity. She flew forward, gliding high over blue, orange and purple buildings. Tiny fairies glistened and flitted throughout the formations. Larger monsters lurked within. Tragedies and comedies played to curtain and she glided over.
Only her salty tongue and gently rocking body foiled the illusion that she was God. Soon she’d grow cold and return to the boat. Until then, her world lived busily below her.
In by Wyatt on December 29, 2009 at 5:06 pm
Here is coral. The green one tastes best. It looks like a brain if I squint my little eye and look at it. I wonder what I look like. Benevolent giants stare at me with bubble eyes in wonder, so I must be pretty.
The currents are warm here. Of course, I’m not aware that I’m swimming. I’m just doing my thing. Living.
I like this cute angelfish over at the next reef. I wish I were brave enough to cross the gap, but the white sand that turns the water azure above the surface is a desert wasteland below.
In by Chris on December 28, 2009 at 11:08 pm
Here in this suburban house, every facet of life is tailored towards being sedentary. Other houses, people, shops, and roads are pushed far away in favor of televisions and recliners. There is a yard, which looks nice. If I want to see the outside world, I’ll first have to get in a car and drive somewhere by myself. Here in this house is a pantry full of the most worldly foods, and everything else I need. It requires extraordinary motivation to go anywhere, meet anyone new, create anything. Maybe someday I’ll escape, or maybe I’ll stay here. It’s pretty comfortable.
In by Michael on December 28, 2009 at 2:49 pm
Every day after work he would ride on his stationary bike. After more than a decade, it had accumulated more than 30,000 miles.
His bike grew weary. Other bikes, the ones that ride outdoors, after a decade of wear and tear, have seen 30,000 miles of the real world. It hadn’t moved more than a few feet in a decade.
Today after work, the bike was gone.
It rode and rode. Across cities and states, uphill and down, in the bright sun and horrible rain, under tunnels and over bridges, day and night, racing cars and yellow lights, it rode.
In by Michael on December 28, 2009 at 1:26 am
The first time I quit smoking, it was because my girlfriend said she didn’t like it.
The second time I quit was when we got married.
The third time was when we moved to Europe and I couldn’t find anything American to smoke.
The fourth time was when we moved back to the States and I couldn’t find anything European to smoke.
The fifth time was when she got pregnant.
The sixth time was during the divorce, I tried to clean up my act to get custody.
I’m done quitting. Smoking is reliable in a way that I am not.
In by Chris on December 27, 2009 at 11:41 pm
Hulking gorillas muscling on leather knuckles. Eyes glazed or rotted. Shoulders rolling above and ahead of the frowning brow.
Warning shouts. Then silent patrol of knotted, torn males through dappled forests. Pause to run ugly noses along branches. Listen.
The attack with screams and beatings. Branches torn loose and fearsome blurry shapes tussle in death grips. Crashes, thuds. Leaves glide down.
Forest silent again. One troop vanished. The other with hidden spots of blood, chewing figs and femurs.
Camera pans back. Entire forest. Entire globe. David Attenborough talking like God, robed like a sage. Camera crew cracking jokes, eating sushi.