Odometers
February 7th, 2008



You see her, and you can’t stop thinking about her. She seems dark and intelligent. You ask her out, and, to your surprise, you find yourself on a date that night. She mentions that she likes butterflies. As the weeks go by, you get to know her better. There are a few things that feel a little off (her dog seems a little bit too human), but you start looking at rings. You invite her to a fancy dinner, and when she steps in, everyone goes quiet. She has a tattoo of a butterfly on her entire face. The butterfly wings go from her lips, out to her cheeks, and right up to her eyebrows. A black body with spindly arms sits down the spine of her nose. You run out the back entrance, and buy a new phone.

Red Recondite is slumber with a plunger.
Note that there are a few old entries, which are short stories I wrote a few years ago.
The roach walked across the beige metal landscape, ignoring the various crumbs. He headed towards the boiling pot of macaroni. His front legs reached for the black monolith promising a feast, and they curled back in smoldering chunks from the burner. He backed up with his rear legs, ignoring the useless limbs, and took a leap. What he had for a brain bubbled mucus-green. Read the rest of this entry »
I brushed my teeth, trying to scrub away fifteen-years of nicotine stains. I wondered why I bothered… why not let cavities eat away through my canines and molars leaving my gums in peace. With dentures, I could just pop in a new pair and have teeth that did not resemble corn. No more avoiding special toothpaste, white strips, and dental appointments. It’d certainly be better than this daily grudge. Read the rest of this entry »