Caution or Results

“We should be cautious.  Rushed decisions lead to disaster,” Myla cautioned.

“This isn’t like that weekend in Miami.  We’ll be fine,” Ryon said.

“Caution sent Dex home last time.  We need to make a choice and we need to make it now,” Chi said, bluntly.  He was tired of waiting.  Myla’s caution and Ryon’s inability to take a side had always back their progress.  Chi just wanted it over.  The day had been long and tiresome and the night ahead held no changes.

“Fine. Pepperoni and black olive.  Just place the order,” Myla hoped her choice was not too rushed.


Headlines of Shadow Gulch’s Newspaper, The Local, from 2117

I’m a future thought sort of person.  The present is incredibly hard to live in and difficult to navigate but by golly six steps ahead makes total sense.

I also need better hobbies for Monday nights, but that’s an issue for a different time.  Better hobbies in general.

Here now. Headlines from 2117, as reported in the local newspaper The Local, the most highly circulated publication in Shadow Gulch.  Population 2,495.  3,495 in tourist season.


February 3: Mayor States “All is Well” Following Smoke Leak at Factory

March 18: St. Patrick’s Day Festival Pretty Routine, Very Warm

April 1: Sky Turns Weird Shade of Blue for Three Hours

April 7: Retraction: Trying To Revive Ancient April Fools Day Tradition was Poor Taste. Sky Regular Shade of Blue

April 15: Whoops! Sky Weird Blue Again

April 16: The Local Gets New Editor!

June 3: Weird Blue Shade Called ‘Indigo’

June 6: Sky Back to Standard Blue. Investigation Pending

July 12: Remember that Smoke Leak? It Was a Problem.

July 14: New Editor Was Government Mole or Spy or something. Take the Streets Citizens of Shadow Gulch!

July 15: Meet the New Staff at The Local

July 16: You Know Who’s Pretty Cool? The Hivemind of The Great Dyleiar Plant.

August 18: Hivemind Hosting Bake Sale This Weekend.

September 1: New Assimilates from Bake Sale Shout (In Unison) “We are Legion! We are Hivemind!”

September 19: Home and Garden Show A Hit! (Also; Hivemind Assimilating Neighboring Towns)

October 2: Hivemind Will Deliver News Directly to All Joined Brains For Foreseeable Future

December 18: Shadow Gulch Liberated From Hivemind of Dyleiar Plant. Town Not Sure How to Feel.

December 28: Factory Leaking Smoke Again and We’re All Cool With it.



Thanks for reading! I’m off to bed.

Five Friends on a Bus

Five friends sat or stood on a bus.  The final leg of their journey home was nearly complete.  Their night had been long and full of stories they would one day tell their children to prove a former control of the concept of cool.  The stories would undoubtedly be shared to embarrass said children as well, but that goes without saying.

The bus was smelly.  Another passenger rode with a dog and another was going to ride until the driver said, “end of the line!”  The five young people had spent hours talking and shouting and sharing, so the bus was damaging every sense except hearing.  Silence filled the carriage and the group was left to their own thoughts.

One thought of pancakes.  One thought of their upcoming shift at a diner (a shift a mere four hours away due to poor planning).  One thought of a puppy seen on an SPCA website and had a deep desire to adopt the pup.  One figured out a potentially unbeatable strategy for their League of Legends character.  The last thought of Pluto’s demotion.  The other four had a hard time relating to the last member of the group, but the kid could talk about Pluto.

Not one thought of the experience they just shared.  Not one thought of another.  They had already moved on from the moment, knowing full well they would only summon the story of the night when they needed to upstage a competing tale at a party.  Not one knew they just had one of those ‘top five’ nights that would come to define them.

Five friends rode a bus home. Five friends lost within themselves nearly missed their final stop.



Thanks for reading!

Deck and Amy and the Long Weekend

“You know how I have a pretty tough time saying no when people request things from me?” Amy said.

Deck stopped sipping his coffee, put his paperback on the table beside his chair and looked at Amy wondering exactly what she had done.

“Good, you remember,” Amy said.  She moved to the couch to sit next to Deck.

“Well,” she continued, “we’re going to be house sitting for Mark and Cayla from work this weekend.  They’re going to Baton Rouge and think their dogs will have a tough time at a doggy daycare for three days.”

“That sounds awful,” Deck said.

“It does.  We need to think up ways to make it suck less,” Amy said.

“We could not do it,” Deck suggested.

“Too late for that,” Amy countered, “next?”

“We could pay someone else to take care of it,” Deck was already pulling out his credit card.

“What if we put it on AirBnB? We make bank and someone else is there!” Amy said, giddily clapping.

“We turn it into a haunted house outside of Halloween season. Hipsters will love it,” Deck rambled.

“We paint that snake symbol from Harry Potter on the ceiling and don’t say a word unless prompted,” Amy said.

“We take up the carpet, draw every symbol from Supernatural underneath it and put it back,” Deck said.

“Behind every framed photo or piece of art, we write a seven letter Scrabble word,” Amy rattled off.

Both lost themselves to laughter plotting and pondering how to make a house sitting weekend be less awful. The suggestions flew for another five minutes growing more and more outrageous with every word.  Finally, Amy had had enough.

“We’re going to sit in their house and order pizzas all weekend, right?” Amy asked.

“Oh, that’s a given. Could you imagine actually not doing this to the best of our ability?” Deck said, panic in his voice.

“We’d have to move,” Amy said.




Thanks for reading!

Time, Starts, and Old Originals

I love starting new projects.  There are hope and mystery and bountiful ideas when something new starts up.  There’s also a whole bunch of time that needs to be allocated to the fun stuff.  Time which could be spent say… writing new original content for a blog.

That will not happen tonight.  Nope. Instead, here is some year old original content for a blog!  But it keeps the theme of crazy starts.

Caution Lights

Rodney was no fan of rush hour traffic.  That was hardly a unique feeling, sure, but this morning’s column of trucks and sedans was a new level of annoyance.  When the red brakes lights in front of him turned to yellow caution lights and every single car ahead of his own started moving to the side of the road.

“There are no sirens, why are we moving?” Rodney said.  He followed the lead though and brought his station wagon to the roadside as well.

“Highway parking lots.  This friggin’ city,” he muttered.  “Why are you all getting out your cars?” Without thinking, he too stepped out of his car.

“7:30 in the morning and I’m learning I’m a lemming,” he said, closing the car door behind him.

“Hey!” He called to the driver in front of him, “any idea what’s going on?”

The driver pointed skyward.

Rodney followed the pointed finger to a disc floating above a hill.  It looked like nothing he had ever seen before; nothing in reality at any rate. He had seen similar machines in alien invasion movies.  This morning was not off to a great start.  He opened his car door, grabbed his phone and texted his boss that he was going to be late.


Thanks for reading!

Jenkins Leaves a Note

“Jenkins!” Old Man Thompson shouted from behind his closed office door.

Jenkins sighed, another task was to be barked at him.  It was not that Jenkins took issue with the work or extra assignments, but the limited people skills of his boss were taking a toll.  Jenkins dutifully went into the plainly configured office, took a new task and returned to his desk.

“How do you deal with that?” Beth from accounting asked.  She was waiting for Jenkins with coffee in hand.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Jenkins said, “and I’ve found some ways to make the work bearable.”

“Like what?” Beth prompted.

“Well, for one, every report I type up if you read the first letter of every line it spells ‘Give Jenkins a Ten Thousand Dollar Raise.’  It takes some time, but I do think it is having an effect.” Jenkins explained.  He smiled ever so slightly, quite pleased with this tactic.

“That sounds like an incredible amount of effort to put into something so subliminal,” Beth was less impressed.

“I’m here on weekends and gave up weeknight bowling, but I’m pretty good with it,” Jenkins took a sip of his coffee.



Thanks for reading!

Some entertainment options you may enjoy:
Lunch Hour Characters (bad art, humorously captioned)
Free books
$1 Books
Mugs and Stickers and other tangible things
Facebook for videos, links, and shenanigans

The Funeral Home

“Thank you for choosing Tranquil Hills Funeral Home for your burial needs,” the home’s director said.  He motioned to a comfortable couch inviting Brayden and Brooke to take a seat.  “Now, before we get started, can I ask what brings such a young couple in today?”

Brayden was absolute petrified by the cadence of the director’s voice.  Eerily calm, breathy and metered to about half that of a typical pulse, the director was not going to be an easy person for Brayden to interact with.

“Well, we are big planners, so it would be great to just get this out of the way and get on with the rest of our lives,” Brooke said.  The couple held hands and tried not to let on they were incredibly nervous.

“Ah, grand.  We like to keep an eye toward eternity as well.  Before we get too into our chat, do you have any initial questions I can answer?” The director asked.

“Yeah, I have one,” Brayden spoke up.  He raised his hand for reasons he did not understand.  “On the tombstone, do I have to put my name?”

Brook tried to hide.  The director perked up a little.

“That is the custom, yes.  It helps identify who is buried where,” The director did not grasp the question entirely, but was trying his best.

“Sure, but I’ll be dead and gone why do I care? I’m thinking the tombstone should read ‘Bruce ‘Tarzan’ Wayne’ for all time.  That would be awesome,” Brayden suggested.

“While you will no longer be bound to this earth, your name does live on and your descendants will want to know a little bit about you,” The director offered.

“They’ll learn I was friggin’ awesome when I was alive.  I was Tarzan and Batman and a billionaire,” Brayden explained his reasoning.

“You make a sound argument,” The director said, “Go ahead and order whatever you on your tombstone.”



Thanks for reading!