“faster, harder” …. a 4 min read

I stand in the filthy hallway, watching dust fly through the fading sunlight as I look for a place to sit down.  The woman’s Brit clipped voice fades as I walk further from the stage.  There’s a bucket to my left and I wait for the small rat to jump down before I brush off the dust with his hat and sit down.

The actor flies from backstage and into the hallway.  “Where’s the hat?! I need the hat!” he yells, just like every night for the past eleven years.  I sigh and hand him the hat.  He slams it over his white wig and runs back through the door.  My stomach grumbles.

A flashing blue and green screen pops up on the opposite wall.  “Smile, Gary! It’s your lucky day!” it bellows.

I shift on the bucket, turning to face the other direction, and the screen glimmers off.  I think of the stored cans of refried beans under my mattress and my new roommate, Vanessa.  She seems like the type.

A new monitor blasts on the door of the broom closet.

Gary, setting goals is the first step in turning the invisible into the visible.  It is in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped.” it says, showing me hills and a green countryside.  A girl.  A ham.

I get hungry. The rat scurries over and sits on the tipped over broom handle, pausing for a moment to stare at me.  I look in its small black beady eyes and wonder what it thinks of me.  Can it think of me?

“Hello rat.”

It only chippers and goes still again, staring.  I think I see disdain in its eyes, or boredom.  The sound system squawks and I hear the woman from the stage again.  Her voice drifts back down into the hallway, rising.  “And it is at the dawn of our new age, when man has risen to the occasion of his sacred duty, mounting the steed of destiny, the apotheosis of his heritage…”

The rat stares at me.  I try making little squeaks but it only shuffles away.  I put my head in my hands and try to weep softly.

The floor beneath me lights and turns into a blue ocean.  There’s a little gold fish I recognize.  The smell of shellfish fills the air and a woman’s voice this time, “You see Gary, in life, lots of people know what to do, but few people actually buy like they know!” She emanates through the floor and rises. “You must take action. Our mission is to combine luxury with—“       

I’m alternately squeezing my eyes shut and blinking them open, moving from her then into the blue ocean.  “Can you see me?” I ask the fish.

The gold fish falters.  A wispy paradise fish swoops in, colored blue and swimming fast.  It hurriedly turns one eye to me, then back to the ocean.

The woman pauses, and then continues on haltingly.  “…with strong brands and innovative products, Gary, we are producing, inspiring

“Hey fish, can you see me?” I watch the two fish closely.  The blue one ignores me. I stand up and put the bucket over my head.

I hear a loud shrill.  “ethnic essentials …many comfortable blouses…”


I pick up the mop and start to bang on the bucket.


Ferti-Lome F-Stop Lawn Fungicide Granules that give you the capacity to change any

I bang faster, harder.


“…search the entire inventory, Gary, and meet any opportunity with preparation and…”


My ears start to ring and I smell a burning in my nostrils, something like smoke.


“…to imagine rolling along briskly on flat terrain, Gary, the 29″ wheels provide you the means to roll over obstacles better than smaller diameter wheels.  And they roll super smooth on smooth terrain!  And when it comes to…”


There’s a whisper, and then her voice clips out abruptly.


I take the bucket off my head.  The woman is gone.  So is the rat.   I look around for the source of the smoke but can’t find it.  I sit on the bucket.


After a while I see the blue fish float by and it glares at me through the floor.  “Now why’d you have to go and do that?” it asks.


I shrug my shoulders and watch as it flickers away.

Post Apoc

“Getting cold?” Phil looks down at my thin sweater and leans against the doorway.  I can tell he’s trying to see what’s left in my wheelbarrow.

I fold my arms.  “You know I have the granola rations in here, that’s all.”

“Where’s Sally?” he asks.  He runs his hands through his brown hair and I can tell he just washed it.  Not following the ration.  I can also see his empty holster and bulging pocket.

I ignore him and pull out the list.  “Just check here that I gave you your granola.  Mr. Fluser said not to be out at dusk because of the mosquitos and stuff.”

“C’mon Bethany,” he walks out on the stoop and closes the door behind him, “we used to be like friends.”

I’m disappointed he didn’t ask me to come in, I mean, I would’ve said no, but at least it wouldn’t be so weird.  And out here where everyone could see us from the windows.

“Do you have any bug spray?” I ask him and pretend to spray an imaginary can.

His eyes light up for a second and he opens the door.  “Yeah, come inside.”

When we get in the vestibule he kicks off his shoes. “You can leave yours on if you wanna, but it’s pretty clean in here.”

I take off my hiking boots and stare down at my greying socks.

“How’d you get it so clean in here?” I ask.

“What else am I supposed to do?” He walks down the hallway and we end up in the kitchen.  I sit at the table and he starts going through a junk drawer.  I notice the kid paintings tacked on the walls and how quiet it is on the inside.

“Do you want to come get a task from Mr. Fluser?  He said we’d all feel better if we sign up and then see what happens…” I say and try to think of a good joke.

He stops rifling through the drawer and stares at me.  “You really believe that?”

“I dunno,” I reach for a book on the table, “maybe.”

“Hey, don’t touch that,” he says and walks over, holding out his hand.

“Is this your diary?”

“No, it’s like a notebook, for notes and stuff.”

“Oh. Okay.” I start to open the journal and he snatches it from my hands.

“Nice try.”

“What do you take notes on?”

He squints and looks deep into my eyes. “Just what happens around here and stuff, not much.” He plops the book back on the table. “Now, you.  What about you? You got a boyfriend?”

“When would I have time to have a boyfriend?”

“We have all the time in the world.”

I blush, looking down at the sparkling linoleum and then jump when I feel his thumb and forefinger on my chin.  His eyes are so serious, not mean like before.  What was happening?

“You wanna hold my gun?” he asks and touches a strand of my hair, pulling it gently until he reaches the end and releases the tip.

“Umm… I… let me think about it.”

“What’s there to think about?”


I feel the back of my neck flush when he gets up and then think about the wheelbarrow outside and it was getting dark and the neighbors.

“It’s getting dark.”

“You can stay here.”


All of a sudden there’s banging on the front door. I jumped in my seat but Phil ignores it.

“Do you hear that?”

“It’s probably just Sammy,” he says and reaches above a cabinet.  I look at his stomach muscles when his shirt pulls out from his waistband and then I stand up from the table.

“They’re still knocking.  It could be an emergency.” I start walking toward the hallway and Phil reaches for my waist.  He grabs me and kisses me all of a sudden on the neck. His lips are soft like the rain and I stop in my tracks.

“Stay right here,” he says.

I snap out of it and push his hand away.  “I’m coming too.”

The door is shaking with the pounds now and I know it can’t be good.  I stand to the left of it and pull out my pocketknife.  Suddenly I can see Phil’s gun in his hand, I didn’t even notice it there before.   He kneels on the carpet and peeks through the vestibule window.

“Who’s there?” he calls and handles his gun.

“It’s Mr. Fluser!”

I see the door handle rattle and hold my breath.

“I, uh, there’s been an emergency. Open up!”

I reach for the handle and Phil stops my hand.

“Who died?” he calls out as he walks away from the window.

“Uh, nobody died.  It’s just an emergency.”

I can hear my own heartbeat in my sweater.  Phil grabs my hand.  He puts it on his heart and looks at me. He mouths the words “Hide now” and points toward the stairs.

“That doesn’t make sense,” I whisper back.

He just shakes his head and points toward the stairs.


By the time I get under the bed I hear the front door swing open and bang against the wall.

Don’t move.” I hear Fluser say and then there’s a thud.

Everything goes quiet.


A diary


My diary


Travel diary

“What were you dreaming about?” I asked.

The little girl shrugged and turned to look out the window.  The bus rumbled.

“I dunno,” she shrugged, “dead things.  I was dreaming ‘bout dead stuff,” she said and continued to look out the window.

I didn’t let the age or gender gap stop me, or the side of her head. “Like what?” I asked.

“Mostly bugs,” she sighed.

I watched her trace some sort of shape on the fogged window.

“What kind?” I asked.

She sighed again and turned toward me.  “I dunno.  They all had big Styrofoam wings, and a pump thing.”

“Like a hose?”

“I don’t know what a hose is,” she said.

I sighed.  I watched her reach in her backpack and pull out a pencil box.  She took out mascara and a tiny compact mirror.

“How old are you? Like, ten?” I asked.

“I’m thirteen,” she replied.

I’d expected her to roll her eyes but she didn’t.  We’d been on the greyhound for about two days now, and her mom was passed out in the back from Amarillo.  Texas was a nightmare.

“Where are you going anyway?” she asked.

“I’m going to Canada.” I replied.


“I dunno.” I shifted in my seat and pulled out a sandwich from the last station.  It smelled awful.  At least I had something.

“You want half of this?”


I pulled apart half of it and handed it to her.  She ate and looked out the window.

“Where are you and your mom going?” I asked.

“Back to grandmas,” she said.

“What does your mom do?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she replied.  She swallowed the last bit of sandwich and we watched the flat brown land roll by.

She turned back to look at me. “What do you do? Where are you from?” she asked.  Her light hazel eyes twinkled for the first time.  A small smirk came on her lips.

I laughed. “Nothing.”

She started messing around in her bag again.

“I take that back, I do stuff,” I said and thought about what a 13 year-old would want to hear or understand.  “Sometimes I’m a telemarketer, sometimes I’m a cook.”

The guy behind us snored loudly and someone opened a big bag of Doritos, you could smell it.

“Like calling people and stuff?” she asked.

Suddenly her mom gripped the back of my chair and hovered over my seat.  She still smelled like Amarillo.

“Let me sit here,” she said.

I got my bag and moved toward the empty seats in the back.  Half the people on the bus were asleep and the other half were plotting their whereabouts.  I sat three seats over from a cowboy. It looked like he was writing poetry.

“What’re you writing?” I asked him after a while.

“A song for this girl I met in San Antonio,” he said.

“Was she nice?” I asked.

“She’s all I think about,” he said and adjusted his hat.

I thought about the crazy hay loft in Texas and the dark lonely streets.  The bee feeling you get in your knees when you’ve been sitting behind a blue checkered seat for five hours and your brain’s about to explode.  I thought about Morgan and making friends on the road.  I wondered what would happen in Oregon, and the terrifying yawn of not knowing where to land, who to see, what to do.



wondered if any of us knew each other

“What are we all doing here?” I asked the person sitting next to me.

“Shhh. They’re gonna explain it,” he said and pointed to the man walking through the door.

The man was huge.  He had to bend over, almost crawl through the doorway and when he finally got inside the station he had to sit down to fit.  His hair brushed the ceiling.

“I know you’re all wondering why you’re here,” he said calmly and peered around the room.

Everyone murmured their consent and I marveled at the size of his head.  It was like a bus.

“And I know you’re wondering why I’m so big, and I’ll get to that later,” he said.

The man beside me nudged my arm and pointed at his crotch.

“Oh great,” I thought and smirked, “this guy.”

My neighbor raised his hand.  The big man called on him.  “Yes?”

My neighbor stifled a laugh.  “Are there any women like you?”

The big man stared at him for a second and didn’t respond. He turned his bus head toward the rest of the crowd.

“I know some of you are wondering if you are dead, and I’m here to tell you, you are not.” The big man said.

I heard a woman a few rows over break down and weep loudly.  A man put his hand on her shoulder and I wondered if any of us knew each other.  Then man with his hand on her shoulder looked at her awkwardly.  I looked around the crowd and didn’t see anyone I recognized.

“Hey! Where are we?” I yelled out suddenly.

The big bus turned toward me.  He wore the same look he gave my neighbor.  He stared at me for a while before answering.

“I’m getting there.  We find it best to lead into things so as not to alarm you,” he said.

“No, that’s not going to work for me,” I said.

“Yeah,” my neighbor quipped, “Tell us where we are!”

The big man finally frowned.  “We all remain calm at all times,” he said.

“Who’s we?” I asked.


There was a long pause.

“Who’s we?” I asked again.

“Okay, you.” He pointed toward me with his massive finger.  “You,” he pointed toward my neighbor. ”Outside.”


I thought about arguing with him but then I thought about his huge finger pointing at us and squashed bugs.

“Whatevs.” I said.

“Yeah, screw you man,” my neighbor added and we shuffled our way to the exit door of the train station.

“Is this even a train station?” my neighbor asked as we walked to the door.

“Not sure. Hey what’s your name anyway?” I asked.

“Me? I’m Delafonte,” he said.  “You?”

“I forgot my name,” I said.

He looked at me and shook his head.  “Ah man, that sucks.”

I walked out the door with my new friend and listened to the big man resume his lecture behind us.

“We’re all here now.  Good job.  Now I’m going to pass around these name placards and I would like you to write your name and blood type and the last things you can remember eating in the past two weeks,” he said.

I looked over my shoulder and caught him lick his lips.


~To Be Continued!

tobacco, says Sam. (a 7 minute short story)



“What dissolute habits…” I muttered into my knapsack.

“You can’t even spell dissolute, first off, second–”

“Ha.  First off.”

“You’re a moron,” Vuru slammed the gas pedal and swerved past a crawling

“More like creeping.”


“Listen, I’m having a hard time,” I said. “Don’t you get it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.  But look, we’re in the desert.  What could beat that?”

I raised my eyebrows and looked out the passenger window.  There was so much sludge and debris.

“Can’t we stop for a little wash?”

“No,” Vuru stared straight ahead. “No way.”

“Okaaaay.  Don’t know what that’s about but look.” I pointed to the road.

Out the window we saw a bedraggled looking guy.

“Let’s get murdered today.”


When he fell (and literally fell) into the backseat of our van, the conversation took off.

“What’s up?”

“Where’re you going?”




Vuru fiddled with the dome light (falling apart) and the lighter.

“Hey you guys got a cig?” Murderer called from the backseat.

“I’m Pen.  Short for Penelope.  But nobody calls me that.  I’m just telling you because I’ll probably never see you again.” I said and put down my knapsack.

When I turned around to look at the guy again he shifted his gaze.  He had a funny hat.  Blue, like a cheap rayon, almost see thru blue, kinda like a top hat but not really.  Weird.  And his clothes were dingy, yes, but something was off about them.

“Who’s she?” he asked.

“Oh my feisty blondish photo negative?  That’s Vuru.” I pulled my hair into a ponytail and turned to wink at her but she missed it.  “She’s not nice like I am.”


“Talkative, are you?” Vuru asked.

“Where’s the brassy knob that turns the spike for the wolf.  The wolf call?” he asked.

Vuru eyed me and fiddled in the middle compartment.  “Just like I thought…” she muttered.

“What’s your name?” I asked.


“Well hey Sam, how’d’ya do?”

When I reached back to shake his hand he flinched like a hangdog.


“You hungry?” Vuru asked and I noted the exit sign, the usual, McDonald’s, Wendy’s, this time a Red Lobster.  In the middle of the desert? I thought.  That was unbelievable.

“We’re not technically in the desert you know,” Vuru said.


“I like those cheddar biscuits.  Everybody likes those cheddar biscuits.  They just won’t admit it.”


I turned around and stared at his hat some more and looked around for his bag. “You mean “yeah” you’re hungry or “yeah” you like the cheddar biscuits too?” I asked.


“Where’s your bag?”

“This is so weird.” Vuru mumbled and jerked the window handle.  “So fucking weird.”

I stared at her.  “Weirder than last time?”


“What the biscuits?!” Vuru jerked into the next lane. “You want the biscuits or  not?”

“Hey, Vuru, calm down man, he’s just getting his stuff together.  Hot out here.”  I said and tried to guess the look in his eye.  “Too much wind?”

I pointed to the rolled down windows but he didn’t answer.  Just stared down at the floorboard and then out the window.  Then he sat on his hands.


Vuru slammed on the gas again and I watched the speedometer ram up to 70.  Kinda high for the van.

“Uh, hey, Vuru.  You alright?”



“I want a fucking biscuit,” she edged up to 80. “I wanted one of those fucking biscuits.”

She stared straight ahead.

“We could always turn around.  Get off here.”


“What’s a fucking biscuit anyway?” Sam chimed in from the backseat.

Oh god.  Wrong time to form a coherent thought.

“Who’s driving?” Vuru slowed down the van.

“Me,” he said.

Vuru peered through the rearview at Sam.  “You’re interesting now.”

He stared back at her reflected eyes.

“Why are you here?” she asked, “and don’t give me any of that wolf shit.”

Sam picked up his duffle off the floor.  There it is!

“I’m here to save you,” he said.

Vuru laughed until the van crept down to 60 and tears slid down her face.

“Hand me that water bottle,” she said.

“We already used most our rations.” I said and pulled out the card.  “We can get more in two days though,” I hitched up my shorts, “Not very long.”

I handed her what was left and glanced back at Sam.  I felt kinda bad for him, but not really, just a little.

He had taken off his cheap hat and was stirring it with a stick.  Where’d he get that stick from? It was kinda short anyway but pretty thick.

“Magician?” I watched him stir whatever he was stirring slowly.  “Nice.”

All I saw was the top of his head but finally he looked up at me dead on.  His eyes were the darkest blue I had ever seen, a bad ocean.

“You mean omen.”

“Who said that?”

“In the hat.”

“We don’t like that.”

“Nobody does.”

Vuru slammed on the brake and veered us off to the side.

“Okay.  Get out,” she said.

“Yeah…” I chimed in hesitantly. “You’re not fun anymore.”

“Nobody is,” he said.

“Get out.”


“Okay, let’s go.”

Vuru slammed the gas and we almost took out a lone Mac.

“Hey Vu take it easy.”

“Hey Pen shut it up.”

“What’s gonna happen now?” I turned back to Sam and looked at the top of his head again since he was staring into that hat.  His hair was shiny blonde, kinda like Vuru’s but a little more whitish, almost grey.

He stared into the hat and stirred it.  I glanced over at Vuru to make sure she was okay but she didn’t even look angry, smiling even.  Not a good sign.

“Hey Vu maybe we can get some Wendy’s up the road…”

Sam leaned over from the middle seat and tapped the stick against the window.

“Everywhere’s a desert,” he said and pointed out the window. “Everywhere’s a desert,” I said and looked out the window.

“Yeah, we know, Murd,” Vuru said.  75.

“No, everywhere’s a desert,” he said.

“Uh, put the stick down Sam.” I said.


“It’s for stirring,” he said and leaned back.  “Where’s the knob for the spike?  You know it.”

I looked out the window.  “Everywhere’s a desert.”


Suddenly Vuru slowed down.

“Rest Stop!” she yelled.

I touched her arm and looked at the lighter.

“Listen Vu, we said no more smoking, right?”

“Right,” she said.

Everywhere.” I heard from the backseat.

“Everywhere,” I mumbled.


We pulled into the long parking lot.

“What, you gotta pee?” I asked.

She stared straight ahead. “Nope.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll be back.”


“You’ll be fine.”


Vuru slammed the driver door and walked quickly to the bathroom.

Sam closed his eyes.






Similarly, Roger.


Roger needs to lie on his desk. Similarly, he heard his eyes on the phone, lifted his head. You do not have to look at the screen to know who it was that was not there. Inequality.

“They’re all equal,” she mumbled, raising her attention.

“Huh? Excuse me? I thought the caller was technical support.”

“Here” Roger complains.

“What is that?” Can help a woman who has a strong voice of raucedine. Roger dropped chocolates.


“Do I talk to the technology department or not?” The voice demanded.

“We’re here. We’re the same.” Roger joked, waking up while a naked snail dispenser and grimacing Genetic COF thick mud.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I think” …it’s the ultimate lady -1

“Stop there,” Roger played on screen and pressed the application Cats blinking “talk about life.”

The battle was silent so it was.


“: How to say it was shit and fix my eyes and timing it”

“Life is as funny as being true?”

Where is the pilot? You need to talk to someone who can help.

“We’re here. They are all equal. We can help. ”

“This is not going anywhere, I will not believe it”

“Tell me who you are.” He sighed, and the lion was R. adaptable wig, gave him a Pompadour.

The “. I’m Rebecca. M16, since I always have my spaghetti and unplug the disc. I do not like spaghetti.”

“Well, what’s going on.” Roger said, “Tell me.”

“I think that in the future even more than before lunch waste, as well as a list of products and buy at Wal-Mart, and a person who says he called a taxi for him. I do not think your body. Look,”

“Hm. Tell me about spaghetti.”

“It reminds me, worms and stink do not like it. Once and for all, I dreamed that I struck a bag of Doritos and instead of having the SACE horn a bat and nothing to eat the face of the chip. ”

Roger clicked the monitor screen in time, the four-minute limit. In fact, they say that this four-minute administration began to tax the issue and efforts 1 to solve.

“Give me a second, evaluating’m the problem,” Roger said.

“All right,” he said stiffly.

Roger pulled the phone out and looked at the screen. He looked at his hands, over and over again, or rub the farm, from Carousel, who he needed it. I do not know why. And that was when I heard the ringing of the email. It seemed a small box on the screen folded and cleaned the fingers’ ends, pants.

And they closed their eyes to move that day on that day, read a tall voice and start singing. He mixes false compliments.

“Thomas! Sam to me! What is this disorder? Overwhelmed there will be no problem as it is, there is a flourish of irritable stuff and ticker hey, can not I help you in one moment? Fast Lodo?

“No,” Roger said. “I am very.”

“Uh, er, he Knops, a better one, is not what’s in the vines here, huh, that if they talk to them, say, six minutes of the video?”


The box does not raise its eyes already opened. Closed fish. Grows a red dot on the screen. He picked up recipes.

He was making a table headset listening to his voice with a hollow spit hey. Roger grew up again, without damaging the trouble.

“Here I am,” he said, “we’re going to be in a vacuum here. ”

“Well, is the problem? I waited. ”

“No, literally, because you forgot it. I can not see it, can we see the video?” she asked.

“Well, no,” she hesitated, “I’m in the bathroom.”

“Even better.”

He rose from the throne and took his knops from his chair at the same time. She is shelter, and they think she is depositing. I looked around. What is friendly. Each office chair has a beautiful bed with a flush toilet and 4/4 inches (with filter) and a black hood sleeping clock.

Roger hate the time varies. He was there for up to 6 hours because of shut down, producing better and sleeping in intervals.

Looking through the window and gone the way to the city. The panels were 40 when they saw the ring of fire on the hills. Content.

He saw all its inhabitants of the black layer on the sidewalks, as long as one hour and twenty minutes. People give it up. And he. Everything they want. “We are equal” and pulled them off mumble hard pin them.

The developers sounded and a woman entered. “Hey man.” He did not say his name. “I do not know,”she says.

“HE.” I got a sleeve.

“Return” means

Ripped and wailing.

“All right.”

The place started and wondered what she was. Life is the thought, turned around, and there is no T-smile that did not come. This is not funny.

He knocked on his knees and lowered half the door. With closed eyes.

“I forgot his name,” he said.

Why close your eyes? He told.

Tell us what name you call it.

“… Reba viruses. My living name. ”

“Excellent. We are here.”

What’s Health?

“Well, I had to question it, and then …”

“Say, home, business management … sickness?”


– Good to start. R. sighed and opened his eyes. A beautiful woman with a box on the screen, in her mid-forties, robust, comes with every garnish.

“I have red hair,” he said.

“We want you to.”

Four towels dressed in space were the best of the most humorous members. This is criticism. To admire the glow of the light source of a glittering glow in the four divisions of the R. many other times they did with them, they were unable to prevent the business outbursts of the new, the old and the life of the extreme

“Do you like me?” She asked.

“Not really. I do not know what you are.”

“What do we do now?” And Roger asked for earphones right.

What he saw, here is the email above. When he opened the box, full of old Sam explosion in his father’s office, at least the backdrop of new effort.

“Hey, you’ll need to tell. I know the top management is um, but they all have some things … ”

And I know, Sam.

“Oh great. How often a bout tone, such as block, has been closed for 3 minutes.” Sam smiled.

“The real feather?” Roger asked.

“Uh no. Why do you want to see me later bud!”

Dissolved into the box and Roger Rebecca appeared to play some bubbles.

“I have to go.”

“What is that? Wait.”

“See, for example, behind you and focus on what you are doing, how it is the cause and effect.”



Roger slept on his desk. When he heard the


Roger had to lie on the table.  


Roger had to lie on the table.


Roger had to lie on the table. Also, the phone she heard her eyes, head. You do not have to look at the screen to wist was there. Equality.

“We are all equal,” he mutters to arouse attention.

Huh? Excuse me? I thought that by calling technical support.”

Roger complaint.

“What is it?” It can help a woman have a strong rausedine. Roger chocolate.


“We speak the technology sector, or not?” The voice demanded.

“We’re here. We’re the same.” Roger joked about waking up, taking a slug of the dispenser, and a grimace genetic thick mud above.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I think, started the last lady ….”

“Stop right there,” Roger played on the screen and try to use flashing cats “talk about life.”

Still, there was so.


“That is to say that it was crap, and fix my eyes and time-”

“Life is funny like that, right?”

Where’s the pilot? You have to talk to someone who can help.

“We are here. We are all equal. We can help.”

“It’s not going anywhere, I will not believe”

“Tell me who you are.” He sighed and Leo R. accepts wig, gave him a Pompadour.

In. “I’m Rebecca. M16, because I always was my pasta dish and stop. I do not like pasta.”

“Well, what is going on.” Roger came to him. “Tell me”

“The rain, I think more in the future than before lunch to take the waste, and a list of items to buy Wal-Mart and a man who said that he asked for a taxi to him. I do not think your body. one look.”

“HM. Tell us about the pasta.”

“That reminds me, I do not like worms and stuck. Once all the dream that I got a bag of Doritos, instead of corner Sale bat I had, and he did not eat the face of the chip.”

Roger Click on the screen in time to mark four minutes. In fact, they say that the government has started four minutes tax issue and the efforts to solve one.

“Give me a second, evaluating’m problem,” said Roger.

“It is,” he said haltingli.

Roger went to the phone and looked at the screen. again and again he looked down at his arm or leg removed from the carousel’s economy, everyone is required. I do not know why. And that was when I heard the bell of the E-mail. It is a small box on the screen and folder purified more hands of pants.

visually, and closed to move on, that day, he read in a high-pitched voice, and begins to sing. He mixed with false compliments.

“Her! I Sam! What is this? Overheard not be a problem as we can anger and plenty of stuff to thicker Hey, that one moment? Fast Lada?”

“No,” said Roger. Very much.

“Uh, the button on the right, not the grapes Just six minutes, if they are talking about, say, the video?”

“Of course.”

box is opened up his eyes. It depends on the woman dying as a red dot on the screen. Picking up food.

Table listening to a headset Committee Tinn mad. Roger grew again without damaging the plants.

“I am here to,” she said, “there is still a vacuum. ”

“Well, the problem is that I waited.”

“No, really, because he forgot. I do not see the video you?” he asked.

“Well, no,” he hesitated, “I’m in the bathroom.”

“Even better.”

He rose from the chair and sat up button at the same time. Shelter, and I think that it will rain. I looked around. We are friendly. All office chairs beauty bed Flexi plate and 4/4 inches (filter), and changes in hours of sleep in a black hood.

Roger hated the change of time. He was detained there for six hours of operation, production is better, and if you sleep interval.

Looking through the window, and he went on the road. 40 ends, before the fire in the mountains. Contents.

He saw all the inhabitants of the black layer on the roads, as long as an hour and twenty minutes. People over them. And he did. All they want. “We are equal,” he murmured against them and pulled hard to pin.

Development sounded, and a woman entered. Hey, man. Do not tell me his name. I do not know, “he said.

“When the sleeve.

means “Return”

Beaded and lamentation.

“It is.”

He started the site, I was amazed. Life turned to life, and you have to Smiley T, however, did not come. This is not funny.

The Flexi knees and then lower the bar-door. Eyes closed.

“I forgot his name,” he said.

What would you close your eyes? He said.

Tell me what name to call.

“… viruses Reza. My name is alive.”

“Excellent. Here we are.”

What about your health?

“Well, I questioned, then …”

“Take home, disease management business …?”


a good start. R. sighed and opened his eyes. A beautiful woman with a box on the screen, are among the parties, sound and comes with all the garnish.

“I have red hair,” he said.

“I want.”

The square was covered with a towel-best, member orphans. This criticism. To admire the art of the light source is divided into four sections of the shimmering glow AR them several times, they have not been able to prevent the expected new business, old and living in extreme

“Do you like me?” He asked.

“Not really. I do not know you.”

“Do you love me?” He asked.


“What do we do now?” Asked Roger headset and appropriate.

We are here to e-mail stated. When he opened the box full of old Sam blast of his father, at least in the context of the new initiative.

“Hey, what are you talking about. I know that the Board um, but all have something special …”

I know Sam.

“Oh great. How often spotted fever, for example, block 3 minutes.’ve closed.” Sam smiled.

“The real deal? Roger asked.

“Just do not. What do you want to see more, bud!”

Shine box, Roger and Rebecca appeared to play a few bubbles.

“I have to go.”

“What is it? Hold on.”

“See, for example, you have agreed to focus on what you’re doing, so this is a cause and effect.”



Roger slept on his desk. When he heard the


Similarly, Roger.


“Tell me more.”

Roger slept on his desk. When he heard the tinkle of his earpiece, he raised his head and kept his eyes closed. He did not need to look at the screen to know who he was, what he was, where. We are all the same.

“We were all the same,” he murmured, half awake.

“Huh? Sorry? I thought I was calling for technical support. ”

“You’re here,” Roger sighed.

“What, you mean technical support?” The woman’s voice was hoarse and loud, and Roger lowered the receiver.


“Am I talking to the tech department or not?” The voice demanded.

“We’re here, we’re the same.” Roger joked, waking up, taking a slug from the thick-slug dispenser labeled COF and grimacing.

“Okay, well, I guess I should tell you how it all started.” I said to the last lady and …

“Stop right there,” Roger played down his screen and pushed a blinking kitten app instead, “Let’s talk about life.”

He heard a silence on the line and enjoyed it.


“Um, I need to fix my shit and tell you about what happened and I do not have much time-”

“Life is funny, is not it?”

“Where’s your supervisor?” I need to talk to someone who can help me.

“We’re here, we’re all the same, we can help.”

“This is not going anywhere, I can not believe it-”

“Tell me who you are.” Roger sighed and adjusted the kitten’s wig, gave him a pompadour.

“I’m a Rebecca, I’ve got a M16, when I’m out with friends I always order spaghetti so nobody will pick it up from my plate, I do not like spaghetti.”

“Well, that’s weird.” Roger cheered up, “Tell me more.”

“The shower, I think, does a lot of things to do in the future than before lunch to pick up the rubbish and a list of things to shop with Wal-Mart and the guy who said La a taxi asked nothing of it. I do not think it’s about body. Just look.”

“Hmm. Tell me more about spaghetti.”

“It reminds me of the worms, I do not like it. I once had a dream where I put myself in a Dorito bag and instead of taking out a chip I got a bat wing and did not look at me so I ate it.”

Roger clicked his time monitor on the screen, the four-minute mark. The management said that for four minutes they should have evaluated the problem and began attempt 1 to resolve.

“Just give me a second, I’m evaluating your problem,” said Roger.

“All right,” said the broken voice.

Roger pulled out his receiver and looked at the screen. He looked at the ticker through the bottom and began to rub his hands over and over the leg of his pants. I did not know why I was doing that. Suddenly he heard the ringing of his e-mail. The small box appeared on his screen as he folded and folded his cuffs.

He closed his eyes but it was a day shift, so the Intoner read it aloud. He heard the agitated and pseudo-soothing voice.

“Hey Roger! It’s me, Sam! How’s the bud going?” He listened down the way you were having a little problem there with techy stuff and ticker hey bud? Can I help you? Need a minute? Quick mud?

“No,” Roger replied. “I’m evaluating.”

“Uh, er, bud well, not what’s on the vid here, uh, how about if you show up in a video chat in say, 6 minutes?”

It seemed a small box on the screen folded and cleaned the fingers’ ends, pants.

“Of course.”


She opened her eyes and the box was kept to a minimum. The curly woman blinked a red dot on the screen. He lifted the cat.

The earbud on the desk echoed and heard the tinny woman, crinkly call hi. Roger lifted his yolk.

“I’m back,” he said in the void, “We’re here for you.”

“Well, did you figure out my problem? I’ve been waiting.”

“No, I literally forgot what you said you were. I can not see you, can you watch video?” Roger asked.

“Why, hey, no,” the woman hesitated, “I’m in the bathroom.”

“Even better.”

Roger took his bud and got up from his chair. Then he thought about it and replaced his cocoon. He looked around. They were friendly. Everyone in their office had nice flxi-bed chairs and a personal 4/4 inch sink (with a filter) and the black hood to sleep at the time of change.

Roger hated the time for change. They had to be there an extra 6 hours because of the off-shift hours and the production is better with sleep interval. It is true that they had all the technology and entertainment, streams and snacks they could swallow and really did not need to be home since schools had been synchronized but still thought it was a long day.

He went to the long window and looked at the city. They had 40 floors up and he could see the ring fire on the hills. Content.

He saw the filthy coats of all the inhabitants of the sidewalks, while they were an hour, thirty minutes of something. People passed by them. He would, too. Everyone would. “We’re the same,” he murmured to himself and pulled as hard as he could on a pin.

His earpiece rang and the woman’s voice came in. “Hey, it’s me.” You never told me your name. And I can not see you,” she said.

“Oh. I rose from my sheath.”

“Come back”, if a-

He wrinkled loudly.

“All right.”

He started to walk and wondered what the woman would be like, who she was. He thought about sending her a Life filter or Office Chairs Beauty Flexi and 4/4 inches (filter) spaghetti on the way back, but decided not to. It was not funny.

Looking the window again, he saw that all people are a black layer on the road, as long as one hour and twenty minutes. People are above them. And he did. All they want. “We,” he muttered against them, and pulled out a check.  He knew he was detained there for six hours, producing better, and if you sleep with each other.

He dropped back into his flxi-back and lowered the semitransparent door. He closed his eyes.

“I forgot his name,” he said.

-Why do you close your eyes? -I ask.

Tell me your name first.

“Rebbe … Stephanie, my name is Stephanie.”

“Right, here we go.”

“And your illness?”

“Well, I was calling for my problem, but then you said …”

“We will put the management in the domestic front of the industry in front of the operations in … Your ailment?”


-Good start. Roger sighed and opened his eyes. A beautiful woman is a box on screen, had mid-forties, robust, comes with all the trimmings.  She stirred false compliments.

“I have red hair,” he said.

“I want you”.

He was in a bath with a square towel four decks expertly covered through the most imaginative parts of his body. How demure. Roger wondered how many times he had made this resplendent radiant glow radiant he could not help but divide himself into these four directions and delegate specialists to deal with the, could not prevent the business expectations with, old and life of the extremes of

“Did you like me?” He asked.

“Not really. I do not know you.”

“So, what do we do now?” Roger asked and adjusted his earbud.

Just then, his email repeated again. The box opened to a full frontal blast from Sam in his office, or at least an office backdrop, Roger thought.

Behold, a box full of old Sam explosion father is in your office:

“Hey, it will be necessary to tell you. I know you’re top management um, but they all have certain things …”

And I know Sam.

“Hey Bud, we have to talk. I know you’re top management and all but one, there are some things …”

I already know Sam.

“Oh, great, how do you bump the bell on, say, a 3-minute block?” “I locked you in.” Sam smiled.

“With a real pen?” Roger asked.

“Uh no, why should I listen well? See you later, bud!”

The box cleared and Roger watched Rebecca play a few bubbles. He made the desk Earbud listened, her voice tinny PURSY hello. Dissolved into the box and Roger was Rebecca appeared to play a few bubbles.

Roger has risen again, without damaging the bud.

“I have to go.”

“What? Wait.”

“We see ourselves then focusing on each instance and what it does, how it does what it does, the effect and why.”






Roger needs to lie on his desk.  Similarly,



Roger had to lie on the table. Also, the phone



level 1

“How’s she doing?” Bob sat down on the park bench and clicked in.  He saw the waves crash gently against the rocks and a kid waddle across the sand pulling down on his soppy diaper.

When Bob clicked the unit on the roof of his mouth it felt like a present.  He loved dialing in with Alfonso and the others.  He could hear them now but he didn’t want to lose that wave image, it was nice. So he just listened.

“Not so good man, not so good…” Alfonso chimed in while the others chattered happily in the background.  How they could be so happy with so many things to dial in was beyond him.  He thought of Wrodrina and all the happy spaces they had made for her in the game.  She had an arcade to go to (right down the street!) a park with two swings, a nice two-level condo, 3 cool friends, nice leggings, the food (high quality), even the arcade was straight from the early nineties with all the retro games she liked.  Bob sighed.

“Ok, fill me in.” he said.

Alfonso sucked in a bunch of breath.  “Man, uh, maybe you should just click all the way in and look at it, I don’t know…”

“No, I’m looking at the shore right now, don’t need to bother, just tell me.” he said.

Alfonso took another deep breath and began, “Okay, so she seemed fine and was writing mediocre poetry and not many tears and everything seemed on the up and up.  She went to Fred’s to play guitar last night at, let’s see, oh okay, around 8:40ish p.m.  The day before she did her chores, today she was up and at ‘em at the regular time… but then, it’s weird.  All of a sudden she just came through the door and fell to the floor… holding her keys and everything and just started like, sobbing or whatever.” Alfonso paused.

“I see.  How long was she there?” Bob asked.

“At home? Let’s see… 6 hours-“

“No, how long was she on the floor?” Bob asked and noticed the little grungy kid waddling his way.  He tried to break eye contact to discourage him.  He looked at the birds.

“Um, let me see, oh here it is- five hours.”


“Yeah, I thought it was pretty excessive.”

“No way, check the record again.  Can’t be.” Bob tried making a little fortress around him with the sand but the kid kept coming.

“Oops.  I was wrong.  Looks like about 30 minutes…”

“That’s not so bad.” Bob kicked sand in the kid’s direction.  It landed on his shoe, but he kept coming.

“What is she doing now?” Bob asked.

“Pasta.” Alfonso turned his receiver up a bit and laughed.  “Pasta.”

“She’s doing pasta. Sounds interesting…” Bob chuckled.

“Seems she won’t stop eating it now. It’s getting out of hand.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll click in.  I have to see this.” Bob thought of the waves and the kid and figured it was the perfect time anyway.


“There.  All better.”

He looked around at the scene.   There were empty containers and old pots with pasta bits in it and green pesto stains on the counter and it was worse than he thought.  He looked at Wrodrina and noticed about 5 or 6 extra pounds.  He sighed.  They’d have to use about 1500 extra units for the trips to the gym.  What the fuck? He thought.

“How long has this been going on, Alfonso?  And why didn’t you update me?”

“Hey! I thought she was fine.  She seemed fine.  No one thought to check interval cache.  It looked good.”

“Get the pasta outta there.  Pronto.”

“You got it, boss.”

“I’m not your boss.”

“Well you’re acting like it.”

Bob watched as Wrodrina stretched her arms and yawned and ambled chubbily over to her couch.  She texted Terry.  //Gonna take a nap. ttyl//

As soon as she closed her eyes the containers started glittering in the cube frame.

“Make em, er, make em bananas.”

“That’ll be hard to pull off, Bob.”

“Just do it.”

The tins and bins glittered into banana shape forms and he even threw in a few gnats for extra measure.

Other things happened.

Wrodrina woke up.

She yawned and a single soupy tear ambled down her cheek, finding the perfect groove and puddling.

“It won’t stop.” Alfonso whispered.

“Fuck.” Bob sighed. “Bring in the big guns.”

A knock came on Wrodrina’s door.  She opened it and saw three local firemen standing on her stoop.  One of them was bare-chested wearing only suspenders and a smile.  He winked at her.

“Sorry ma’am.  Must have the wrong house.  We got a call about a cat… but hey… can I ask you, if I’m not too forward, to maybe have dinner with me tonight?”

Wrodrina pulled a tin of French pasta from a hiding place underneath the hallway junk table.

“No, thanks.”  She pulled a fork out of her pocket and started shoveling the long tasty strands into her mouth.  “I’m busy,” she mumbled and tapped the corners of her mouth with a white handkerchief.

“Oh, well I’ll leave you my number just in case you change your mind.”

Wrodrina lifted her eyebrows and tapped the prongs of the fork on the door jamb.  She tried to make a song.

“Wait, are you crying?” one of the other firemen asked her.


Not a god complex, just an Outer Being (in 5 mins)a 5min read


“What are they talking about?” Pholf leaned over Mercival’s shoulder and listened in.  All she ever did was listen, he thought, and they never talked to her.

“Shhh, I’m learning something,” Mercival said and peered in closer to the dome surrounding the soccer field.

Pholf reached in and tapped on the thick glass.  Dink dink dink.

All of the women looked up.

“What confusions!” Mercival hissed at him wide-eyed.  “Do not tap on their dome, omg, they’re going to get all weird again and start The Killing.” Mercival snatched his hand away. “I don’t need that right now.”

“Awww they’re okay, look.”

They both turned back to Mercival’s tub.  Pholf noted her number of oceans again and the extra valleys and now he could see a super-sized shopping mall full of shoes and ham sandwiches and where the hell did she get that from?

He glanced at her and shoved his hands in his pockets.  “Say, how’d you get that mall, Mercival?  I never saw one of those in the software or vid‑“

“Oh I made it up.”

“But why?”

“I like it when they buy the ham sandwiches.  ….looks so happy, and then the big shoes with the clomping and pieces of lettuce and tomato falling out of the sandwich and getting ire at each other’s tomato-stained shoes and the ham shoe contest-rallies.  It gets pretty interesting.”


All of a sudden, they heard an angry, vitriol-filled woman bitching magnificently from the driver seat of a fancy SUV.

“What’s that hate-filled being in the SUV?”

“I don’t know, let’s see.”

They leaned over the dome and smushed a huge eye over the soccer field.

“Ow! What was that?” Pholf snatched his head back.

“Called a sun.  I put a sun there.  It’s hot.”

“Oh. Mmm.”

They turned back to the well-dressed banshee.

“Wow, just look at her.”

“I know, she’s amazing .”

“What is she wielding?”

“A cellular phone device.”

“Who is that small being?”

“Her spawn.”

“Look over there.” Pholf pointed.

“No, listen.”

The volumptious beings seated on the mat in the soccer field giggled and waved their frontal appendages around in the atmosphere.  The one with the eye shields spoke,

“Yah.  The market is so crazy lately.  Exactly. We looked at three houses and every time it was swooped up before we could.  Crazy. I thought he would (indecipherable)


Engine starts.

Engine stops.

“Well Jason’s eight.  He just doesn’t understand it.  I mean, another thing is that-“




You want a drink? A drink?  goooood girl.

Engine starts.

water? water?

Come here.

Where’s the regular water?

It’s all regular water

You can’t fool me

The water bottle



Pholf looked over at Mercival skeptically.  “You wrote this stuff?”

“No, I just kinda put ‘em in there and sometimes I write, I think, but most of the time I’m busy doing other stuff.” She stuffed her feet in their pockets and tried to concentrate.

Pholf sniffed and rolled his eyes.  “You should go down there an inhabit yourself.  Maybe try the kid.”

“No, I’d be the dog.”

“That’s boring.  The angry sorceress?”




The water bottle

You drank all your water already?

Hey is that water or lemonade?

You should probably bring a bigger bottle

Having fun?

And when we’re done can I stay longer when we’re done?

We’ll see.




No, rox is cute she looks a lot like

My new addiction is watching



I think it’s kick

Oh that is cute

Ok ay

Ok ay

I took her in to get her hair cut and uh



She does kind of!



More than I want


Pholf jerked back.  He pressed his eye against the sun and listened to the searing noise and bubble.

“Hey! Stop that!” Mercival tried to pull his shoulder back. “You’re gonna drip stuff everywhere!”

“I don’t care.  They must stop.”


Pholf peeled his bubbling eye off of sun and considered it.  He leaned forward, paused, leaned in again, opened his mouth, and gulped it down his throat.

“Have fun!”