Satire
The Coffee Opinion
By Thomas G Robinson When I stepped out of the tent, a supposed five-person tent that I remember getting online at Amazon, yeah, it was right after I got my second shot of the Pfizer vaccine. Not that that matters, because my only worry right now is if all the coffee is gone. I needed to get up and start this day. Still, it was kind of a shock to feel the cold of the forest grounds. Little rocks, sticks, blades of grass and weeds that were poking and tickling my feet were a cold awakening to the early morning sun blinding my vision briefly.
By Thomas G Robinson5 years ago in Fiction
Peaches
On the puffy couch, Helen sat in her pink bathrobe while her small dog Peaches snuggled into her soft plushy thigh. Helen was finishing a bowl of peanut butter ice cream, and entranced with the handsome figure of Alex Trebek on the TV. She savored the last spoon, turning it and pressing her tongue hard against the creamy cold. She liked Alex’s grey suit.
By Heath Hardin5 years ago in Fiction
The Divine Director Loses It
He looked again at the text message glaring across the screen and he felt the rage and wrath rising in him. “Yahweh!” the text message screamed. “ I give you a singularity with enough power to create an immense amount of time and space and a 13.5 billion year deadline and this is all you got? Call me back pronto. The producers are screaming for a meeting.”
By Steve B Howard5 years ago in Fiction
Happy Place
In case you don’t already know, the rules are different when you have enough money. My girlfriend tells people I’m an “Elite Concierge.” It’s a title she made up not knowing exactly what I do, but it does sound about right. You see, having tons of money, fame, or influence changes the way you live. I come from a rich family and learned this at a young age. My friends and I made a ton of mischief when we were young but never got into much trouble. As we grew up, the closer we got to trouble the better I got at getting out of it. Mom and dad’s money helped, at first, but then I’d be in trouble with them. So, I had to get better.
By Tales from a Madman5 years ago in Fiction
Bunch of Posers
It's three fifteen and they're not here yet. They said they'd be here at three. I've been sitting on the step, staring at the front door, picking the lint off my sweater for the past thirty minutes. My feet are stuffed sweatily inside my boots, my hand-me-down skates lean against them.
By Lindsay Rae5 years ago in Fiction
SOUTHERN ICE
Here I sit. A southern girl born in the south. Never having seen a snow storm. Never having experienced freezing temperatures. Never having ice skated. Never having thrown a snowball. Never having fallen on my ass as I walked a slippery sidewalk. Yet I'm having these recurring dreams about an icy frozen pond. I'm not skating, or ice fishing or doing anything at this pond. It 's just a big old frozen pond. Something you'd see before they go to the next scene where Jason is killing you.
By Dorothy Gibbs5 years ago in Fiction
The Pen
Twenty-eight thirteen-year-old bodies stand in silence on a long piece of thin red tape outside the middle school wing. Their jaws are rigid. Sweat begins to form in small beads at the edges of their foreheads. A muffled laugh from a nearby classroom carries their way.
By Will Chesson5 years ago in Fiction
