The Halfway Hearts (Part 1)

Bears love hot dogs, believe it or not. Every afternoon we got in my car and drove to Dairy Queen to get some of those horrid weenies. I couldn't eat after watching each bear demolish a stack of greasy boiled dogs. Also, I hate DQ. But one time as a prank I slipped a wee little dachshund into their mountain of Hot Doggies, and they ripped him to shreds as they explored the miniature frankfurter kingdom.

They were horrified by my twisted sense of humor. I nervously laughed and pulled the ole "C'mon guys, it 'twas but a jest!" routine. One started to chuckle under his breath but quickly shut up after another bear elbowed him in the lower back. Man, I really hate DQ.

The biggest one picked me up by the leg and held me upside down as each bear took their turn of punching me to bits. Every so often they would pause to scream in my general direction, "Cry! Cry for that hound!" and then commence to beat the hell out of me.

Horfo

This is a story I wrote that inspired two others. Ehhhh.


I've had a good friend named Marcos for about ten years now. It's funny, we wouldn't normally subscribe to the idea that a friendship should be celebrated, but we picked up one pepperoni pizza from Little Caesar's for our "10 Year Friendship Anniversary". Truly an experience. Well, I should probably mention the car wreck, that's what made the night so significant. It was September, and the lights from oncoming cars were simply too much for Marcos' pitiful eyes. He removed his glasses and whispered, "Take me to the place where fear knows no bounds" as we slammed into an oncoming car. It happened so fast. The force of impact lunged my body forward and my head cracked the windshield as the windshield cracked my skull. I lost two teeth in those few seconds.
The chaos settled, and I pulled myself up from the wreck. I stumbled over to where the pizza lay perfectly preserved and picked up a slice. Even with a mouthful of blood & broken glass, that pizza tasted pretty damn good. I sat cross legged on the ground and began to feast on the cheap pizza. I shouted "Pizza party!" and shoved another greasy, cheesy lump in my mouth. In all the excitement of a delicious pizza, I completely forgot about my pal Marcos. I stood up to go find him, but turned around to grab another slice for him.
I gathered that Marcos must have been flung from his car seat into the woods. I ventured further into the dark mysterious forest. I walked for hours until I eventually came across a clearing illuminated by the moonlight.

Living Capriciously

I cough up blood. I cough up blood because when I was a kid I swallowed a Jack. I cough up blood almost every day because of my one little trip to the hospital. For a man of 21, this is not good.

I’m standing in a post office, built around the 1970’s. Faded documents are hung on the wall to display their approvals. On the east side of the building there’s a long list of names. Coligraphy pen dates the first name from 1873. I am deeply saddened by this discovery because I know this wasn’t written on that specific day.
A aging woman with incredibly dark hair spends more time chewing gum than listening to what I’m saying. Her glasses flicker in the florescent light as I repeat myself for the third time.
“I need some medication!” I’m nearly shouting at this point, blinded by frustration.
“If you’re ordering medication you’ve come to the wrong place son.”
At his point I begin wheezing and hacking into my sleeve. My eyes lose focus and I eject a small amount of snotty blood on the counter. The room is silent.
“May I get my medication please?”

My brother is driving the car. “All of this damn construction just gets me depressed. I can’t even stand to look out the window.” He can’t even stand to look out the window because he knows he lost his only woman years ago. The sky no longer serves any purpose.

I am whispering a prayer…

Believe this!

"You guys know that new show 'Desperate Housewives'? Well what if it was about cats… so instead of 'Desperate Housewives' it would be 'Desperate for Nine Lives'."

Batteries

In sixteen seconds, everything in my car was stolen. The hair dryer, plastic bag, trombone, corn on the cob, and newborn kitten were all taken. I stood in disbelief, wondering if what I was looking at was real or not. I blinked twice to realize that it was not. I got in the car and drove away.

Heaven

This mind found no solace in a creeping, sleeping will o' wisp. My feet carried my tired body across the empty beach in hopes of finding some lost part of my memory. The night was cold and the ocean birthed mysterious lights that rivaled the stars.

I thought of Carrie, and wondered why she would run into the fire knowing full well that it was hollow and empty. The lights over the water glowed brighter. I remembered what she said to me, seconds before the licking flame engulfed her figure. Her voice was soft and kind, like a mother cooing to a child. She said to my shaking head, "It doesn't make any difference what the fire does, it's what it is. Every flame knows the same story, but significance shows its face when death is inches away."
The fire burned her body quickly.
As I considered those words, the now blinding light was dancing across the water's surface. It was remarkable. The sheer beauty of it took my breath away. I pulled my coat tighter and called out to her, "Come home my dear!" The light stopped moving and hovered low over green sea. I froze in fear. Perhaps it was the biting wind, but I suddenly found myself incapable of moving. The light sat eerily still, haunting and beautiful in its own way.
Without warning, it shot up toward the stars, producing a humming sound on its skyward journey. It brought a tear to my eye, but I thought it silly to cry over such a thing. Heaven engulfed the speck of light with open arms, and it seemed appropriate to wave farewell.
I walked home alone, but found a trace of heaven strewn throughout the street. Paper lay everywhere. I picked up a shard and knew from the word inscribed on it that this was a gift from her. She had written a single word,
"Home".

of 22 wolves

Of 22 wolves, only the youngest, and most brash, returned with a challis of fire. He read aloud the ancient words of Incro-Falance. Quickly afterword, his dad destroyed all of his CD’s inches in front of his contorted face. A scream erupted from the young wolf’s heart, but the only noise he made was a whisper: “Tumblr…”