You run from your life. It follows you wherever you go, but you decide not to stand still and let life wear you down to death. So you run. Your bare feet leave land for the ocean, but the ocean doesn’t want your footsteps. A compromise is made. Earth covered with green grass grows in an instant to meet your steps. In this way, you walk on water.
Angelo’s been found out—lipstick smudged collars, suspicious underwear stains, and the lingering scent of other women’s perfume. His supposedly unsuspecting girlfriend, Jenny, calls her sisters, tells them the plan. They meet up. It’s almost time.
Left alone with Freon with its electrical current hot surge, bone china, ether, microwaves shortwave a hidden etherous plane permeates the senses I taste static electrical tape, I use shears to cut the sonic waves, the pulses, the vapors, the strings of the gods connecting all things.
I knew I was going to kill him right when I woke up that morning. Of course, it was a bit premeditated, but it wasn’t until the morning that I literally said, “this is it.”
The bastard had the nerve to say, “I love you, Melissa,” when he got up for work. I wanted to slit his vulnerable throat right there. Liars don’t deserve their lives, and that’s exactly what he was: a lying maggot.
“Motherfucker! Doc, I gotta kill my roommate’s boyfriend. Gotta. The cocksucker’s abusing her.”
“No!” Dr. F. cried out. “You must control your rage. Speak to this guy. See if you can reason with him. Sounds like he needs a shrink too.”
“You kiddin’, doc? The prick needs a good beating. Maybe I’ll break his fucking ribs, an arm, maybe a leg too. And if that don’t work with this fuckup, I’ll cut him into a thousand fucking pieces. Feed his rotting flesh and limp cock to the wolves.”
Thursday again, I hate coming here.
The same imposing building, grey and horrible, glares back at me, almost sneering at my puny car in scale to its overbearing gloom.
My best friend Keith is here. He wasn’t always in here. I mean he wasn’t always like this. I drive up to the entrance with a sense of both dread, and hope. I dread seeing the other inmates; Continue reading Justice by Stephen Cooper
George Jacobs was a drunk. One of those kinds of drunks AA couldn’t fix. Almost every night, when his wife went off to work, she would leave their two kids with him. He started off the night relatively sober but as soon as he put them to bed, he’d start drinking. And drink he did. George never knew the word, ‘stop.’ One night he got so trashed he stripped naked and left Continue reading DOUBLEBACK – A Cliff Drouin Story by C. R. Fausset