Bombs were the last thing on his mind. Literally. Jim was struck dead-on in the head by a warhead, and, naturally, it killed him instantly.
But when Jim regained awareness, it was in a huge warehouse, cordoned off into a long line; others were standing in single-file, inching slowly toward what appeared to be some sort of bank teller's window. From the looks of the line, however, he didn't think he'd be getting service any time soon--the line doubled back on itself at least fifteen times.
Hours passed, people crept, and he eventually got within ten people back of the...
Bombs were the last thing on his mind. It was scotch tape that was presently obsessing him. He had no idea why the image of scotch tape floated there, as it hovering in space, as the explosions and mayhem and chaos reigned around him.
Pierre Leclaire was a soldier in an army of two. Him and his dog Rufus. They had a gun, three boxes of crayons and a wad of chewed up Bubblicious. His mom had always told him he could make the most creative things out of nothing, so the bubblicious had become somewhat of an obsession.
Today,...
Bombs were the last thing on his mind. The first thing on his mind was an egg salad sandwich. Then bombs. He had exactly two things on his mind.
He was a very simple fellow, a bomb enthusiast who ate nothing but egg salad sandwiches. He didn't even have a proper name. Just He. Sometimes He answered to His or Him, depending on the tense.
There was a bomb in the bedroom and, being a bomb enthusiast, he was enthused by this. The only way to defuse the bomb was to eat the fuse. The fuse was not an egg...
Alarm clocks, women, toys and books;
Bananas, high-heels, dirty looks.
The clocks get bigger as they grow,
For Cleopatra told me so.
And in the middle of it all,
Suspended, that which cannot fall,
There lies a prickly yellow fruit
That renders chosen meter moot.
The cover image for the book was not exactly what she had envisioned. Then again neither was the book really. But she was published, that's what mattered right? True she had used a pen name, but she knew the book was hers. The words on the pages her doing (well most of them anyway). But that image. It really didn't have all that much to do with the story in the book. Would people be disappointed when they read it? Would it make it more buyable as the publisher claimed. Well it was out of her hands. Thank God she...
I awoke, pissed, the activity, not the feeling, took a shower, got dressed, made coffee, drank the coffee, fed the dog, the fish, the cat, watered the plants, left a note for the cleaning people, heard a story on NPR that made me think of you, began to write a poem about the us we were, before we became the non-us, still it felt good to think of you, your smile, shoes, the way you opened your eyes after they were closed in the aftermath of our coupling, when we were a couple, it turned me on, I went back...
Okay, Mary. Don't panic. You've planned for this occasion. First, you've gotta find a way to contact your employer and let them know you'll be home sick today. Hopefully they still have phones in the future. Actually, first thing you've gotta do is look in the mirror and then find the date.
Wow, I haven't aged well at all. When did I let myself get so fat and wrinkly? What happened in college? Do I have kids? Hooboy.
Eureka! There's the office. Nice. It looks like computers are much more sleek. ACK! It powered on by itself. 2030? Holy crap,...
The sistine chapel didn't look quite right. From the ground of the chapel, it seemed very tiny. Almost insignificant. He tried to appreciate the art hovering above him as the tides of tourists pushed him out of the way, the tour guides spoke loudly about Saint so and so, and the priests shushed the crowds. It was all overwhelming so Jim left with a feeling of disappointment.
When he finally emerged from the museum, he looked around the streets. He could walk around to St. Peters Cathedral but he knew it also would be overrun with loud tourists. He couldn't...
When the department store exploded, fine home furnishings, clocks, toys and various fruits and shoes came raining down like a merchandise monsoon. Most of them landed harmlessly in the parking lot.
The people, however, did not fare so well. Most of them were dead from the initial blast, but those who weren't landed with a meaty thud, skulls fracturing like the pineapples that were also cast through the air.
It was one of the worst department store explosions of the decade, though strangely, not the very worst--that one came about three months prior, when the detonation occurred near the hardware...
Look up and see what's falling. Out of the clouds, the explosion already dispersing on the wind. It seemed almost to be in slow motion. So slow, it could almost be going backwards.
He glanced around and wondered if anyone else saw what he saw. The street went about it's business, as if nothing had happened. He wanted to scream, Look up and see what's falling, but he couldn't push the words from his throat.
The first box hit and exploded only a few feet from where he stood. And another and another again. Explosions all around him, thankfully none...