In the Break Room

The office break room was empty, normally so at this time of night. A lone fluorescent bulb numbly hummed, providing walls to the silence.

Danger hung in the air. Fetid, fecund danger. A humid vanguard for an untraceable evil, a suffocating horror that brewed unseen and unnoticed. Time was its catalyst, until the enduring revulsion had enough strength to unleash its malevolence and begin its reign of terror. And the time seeped nearer.

The refrigerator kicked on again.
Every week it gets cleaned out. But they always miss the door. And that bottle of salad dressing. Evil salad dressing.

One-Sided Phone Eavesdrop: Break-Up

“No, really, it’s all right; I’m still up.”

“Really? Omigod!”

“Well, he wasn’t right for you anyway.”

“I couldn’t say anything then. You looked too happy.”

“He’s a real jerk for saying that. If he can’t see the real you, you don’t need to be with him. You’re better off without him.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s hard. I know what you’re going through. Just give it time.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll find someone else.”

“OK. Try to sleep tonight. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“I love you too, Granma.”

Words Women Call My Penis

Anaconda.

Pile Driver.

Joystick.

Love Shack Ram-Rod.

Subway Footlong.

Bazooka Joe.

Porn-Worthy.

Monster of the Deep.

Breakfast Burrito.

Stroke of Good Luck.

Joe the Plumber.

Action Jackson.

Midnight Express.

Rosey Riveter.

Pocket Picker.

Magic Johnson.

The Spermina–”Hold it right there, buddy!”

“Yes, you! You’re coming with us. And cover yourself. OK, Rick, we got the mall-flasher! Fuckin’ pervert!”

Lucky Day

Ben wandered back from the kitchen with his lunch.

He felt lucky, even though he was home from school today, serving out a suspension he got for talking back. He’d been a little burned about it still, but today, things felt different. Fortunate, even.

He slouched on the sofa, and pressed the power on the remote. The TV flicked on. Strangely, even though it was noon, news anchors were on. They cut away to a live scene from outside his school. An anchor talked over the roaming shot. There was a shooting inside. Multiple fatalities. Names he recognized.

“Break’s Over”

She sucked in one last drag off her cigarette. She held it in, listening to the crisp stillness of the Denny’s parking lot. Slowly, she pushed out the smoke and flicked away the butt, sending it dancing across the asphalt. Darkness swallowed the red ember.

She looked up into the vast infinity of night.

“Why here? Why now?” she wondered. The moon either didn’t know or didn’t care.

She stood up, brushed her apron down, and paused at the door.

This will be the last sliver of peace tonight before the herd of drunken asses bellowed in.

Night Guard

He glances nervously over his shoulder. Again. He was sure someone was behind him, but every time he turned around, only the shadows in the bank parking lot mocked him.

He continued to circle the building, gun poised.

A metallic THUNK! bounced off his head and echoed down the alley. He crumpled to the ground.

The man behind him pulled his uniform off, piece by piece, and put it on. After cinching the belt, the man pulled out the walkie-talkie.

“Hey George. I got a man down. I need back up. And I got my gun and uniform back.”

“Over.”

Red. Blue. No, Wait, Red

His sweaty palms made the wire cutters hard to hold. He held a pen flashlight in his teeth, but the darkness still lurked in the crevices, obscuring the tangled mess of electrical wires. He tried to keep his hands steady.

He wasn’t really sure that he had the right wire, but time was running out. He had to make a choice. Now.

He took a breath and held it. Then, a quick deft squeeze. Snip.

Silence.

A sigh of relief, he melted back down the pavement. No more neighbor’s 3am car alarm.

Blind Pig

The gas light glow struggles in the prohibitive darkness. Night time is a cave that holds desire in. Dawn seems worlds away.

The only ones outside their nest shuffling about are thirsty philistines searching for a place where everyone keeps their hat on indoors in case they have to make a run for it.

At a heavy oak door I paused. I tried to brush aside the fog behind my eyes. Was it two hard knocks and then three rapid ones? Or was it three, then two? The horizon, once within reach, shifted back to eternity.

It’s embarrassing when your fly is down in public. And people notice. But it gets worse when they say “stop peeing in the parking lot.”

As a child, Richard put the square peg of his sandwich into the round hole of his mouth. His parents said he’ll never live up to anything.