Murry the Puddle – a short story from 1999

Another Angus Oblong style short surreal story. Murry was my friend’s nickname and I have no idea about the rest of the context.

Murry the Puddle

Murry was a small, dark puddle.

It would sit in gutters all day and splash you as you walked past it.

It listened to boy bands.

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Murry the Puddle – a short story from 1999

Kellie the Crypt Ghost – a short story

I am often baffled by things I have written in my past. This would have been written around 1999 based on some other context that came with the print out.  I would have written this directly after having just read Creepy Susie and 13 other tales for Troubled Children, by Angus Oblong. It’s pretty much in that style. I  have quite a few of these.

I actually have bought art from Angus Oblong, I have a pair of matching portraits that I have over my dresser in my room, and I bought a cat painting, actually for Kellie.. It’s surreal and fun.

Kellie the crypt-ghost.

Kellie died a very unpleasant death.

It made her cross.

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Kellie the Crypt Ghost – a short story

Yearly Horoscope : Leo

Leos get a very roar deal from life, so I’ve heard. Being forced to eat grubby wildebeast and live in packs where the head dude yells at and excludes all the other dudes and all the women are like, whatever.

Wait, that’s Lions. I often forget what the difference is between the character in the symbol and the actual reality of what a horoscope is, that is of course,  a made-up description based on a nonsensical set of values with arbitrary values and meanings, that some people really get into.

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Yearly Horoscope : Leo

An ode to Brenden – Prose

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.

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An ode to Brenden – Prose

Cyclops – a short story of a 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.

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Cyclops – a short story of a quest