“I’m not really gay,” the naked man sitting in front of the computer says to himself.
The naked man sitting in front of the computer is a financial advisor at one of the biggest firms in town. He was once thin and handsome in a boyish way. Today, his face is still youthful looking, but his dark hair has a few streaks of gray, and his bloated, corporate appearance strongly suggests he enjoys eating steak dinners and drinking scotch and waters after playing 18 holes at the club.
“What’s the matter hon? You did great! How many people take 6 ribbons including 1st runner up Tomato?”
Vern Erickson was trying hard to comfort his wife of 20 years, but June was having none of it.
It would be a long and quiet ride back to Red Wing from St. Paul. June didn’t even want to take in the Midway this year. There would be no Dinky donuts, no special milkshake, no deep fried Snickers bars and no Tilt-O-Whirl. Vern always loved the Minnesota State Fair. Not this year.
“Oh, it was definitely love at first sight, he just hadn’t seen me yet.”
I took an enthusiastic swig of water from the Styrofoam cup that had been placed in front of me, and winced as a cluster of ice cubes clobbered my nose. I carefully returned the cup to the desk and patted at my face with my sleeve, playing it off as if the whole maneuver had gone according to plan. Regardless of my wet shirt, I had certainly built the suspense to an excruciating level. “Anyway, I already told the cops all about James.”
Continue reading Love and Loss in the Liquor Aisle by Kimmy Dee
(One year before SUPERGIRLS tale takes place)
The forest is creepy, dark and deep, and we got a date with Johnny Depp to keep. Pirates of the Caribbean to be exact. My sister May and I’ve watched it a million times, and probably will a million times more if we can get this buried treasure shit over with.
The little-lamented dissolution of the pseudo-galdr heavy metal band Ketlingr ended a prospective career in magic as well as music. As musicians, the band seldom rose above the level of thrash metal cacophony. Their lyrics were the strongest part of their collective work and with their website being taken down for non-payment, it Continue reading The Lost History Of Ketlingr By Kate Laity
“I’m telling you she’s got a parrot stuck up her arse,” Micky said.
Jo-Jo stirred his coffee.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m saying Nancy has always liked birds, right? I managed to get her to shave it down to two fucking birds, two parrots to be exact, and one of them has gone missing.”
I am holding a vaguely reassuring gun at some pasty, grizzled mess of a guy I have never seen before. I ask him what time the time is. Numbers tumble out of his mouth in a curious order.
If he’s right, I have only been out for five minutes.
Cookie Doyle said, “Aren’t you broads in step yet?” She stared at Cynthia. The girl had gathered the other dancers near the door to the kitchen. For support, or something.
Joyce Crowley said, “What the hell’s that mean?”
“You know damn well,” said Cookie. Good grief. If she called her husband, Butch, he’d slap them and tell them to get back to work. “Well,” she said, “who’s got a plug?”
The girls looked at each other.
Dark.
Light.
The man blinks five times. Twice slowly with effort. Three times fast. His eyes are adjusting to the light of the room. There is no sunlight here. The sun has gone a long, long way from here. There is the smell of damp from the aged and tired wooden table to the side of me. The natural whiff of decay.
Carl stopped dead when he reached the gate of the path that led to the large house. He struggled for a moment to remember why he was there but then his fingers touched on the cold leather of the tick book in his pocket. Carl took a deep breath in through his nose, blew it out his mouth and pushed through the gate.
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