An ode to Brenden

Ahhh. Brenden the Broflake who I didn’t even argue with on the internet. I just didn’t. He came in swinging, howling, being hurt. My not arguing was thus invalidating him in whatever position it was he was upholding (no one from that conversation actually knows).  I didn’t argue. I was obtuse. I didn’t respond to him at all. I did wow dog meme his nonsense.

Here are his very own words about me – as I cast them back to him in prose. I hope you appreciate it more than he did. There was a deeply lyrical quality to his insults and the things he made up. I am just sad he deleted his really good stuff before I got it copied…. Very prose. Such Sook. Wow.

Also, he kept threatening to flounce off, and yet did not. I was much dissapoint.

Continue reading “An ode to Brenden”

An ode to Brenden

Cyclops (a short story of a spectacle quest)

The Cyclops picked up a magazine from the pile on the coffee table and opened it.  The edges of the pages were creased with the imprints of hundreds of other people’s fingers.

He turned page after page, absorbing the details slowly, carefully.  Famous faces, dieting, having children, love nests, divorces, mug shots.

He recalled once, being taken to visit a cousin, who lived a day’s ride from Mt Etna, he’d listened to his relatives talking about their diets, having children, love nests, divorces. Wives being turned into spiders, Gods turning into swans and bulls.

Continue reading “Cyclops (a short story of a spectacle quest)”

Cyclops (a short story of a spectacle quest)

Box (a short story)

Written in the mid 1990s, I found this in a pile of papers and transcribed it here.

*

I sit alone in my box.

I have always been in the box. Enclosed in a few cubic metres of air.

I can feel the pressure of my breathing, in and out. My pulse beats, I can hear the rhythm of the blood thrumming in my ears. It’s a soothing noise. Continue reading “Box (a short story)”

Box (a short story)

The Suit (a story)

A tragedy in cheap clothing

*

It cost her seven dollars and fifty cents at the second hand place. She had been wearing it all day, the jacket sometimes came off when she was hot, but the white polyester blouse she wore (four dollars, purchased in the same place) had gotten a bit grubby and even she’d been aware of that, and so kept putting the jacket back on. Continue reading “The Suit (a story)”

The Suit (a story)

Purgatory – a story

The afterlife is no fun.

*

TeeBeeTe felt a very odd jolt and opened her eyes.

“I’m dead,” she said aloud.

“I died alone. And in pain.”

She considered this for a bit and found she was upset – but having had died horribly didn’t seem to matter any more.  What she needed to do was deal with the now, and what was going on now that she’d actually died. Continue reading “Purgatory – a story”

Purgatory – a story