funny

Vampire Sushi

When you’re in a fight with a vampire, you don’t have a lot of advantages. My vampire had this I’m-invincible-so-I-can-toy-with-you-for-a-bit-before-killing-you thing going. It wasn’t much, but in the end it was enough.

 

Halloween has never been my favorite holiday. I didn’t want to be stuck at home alone, but had nowhere else to go. So while little monsters and princesses where getting their fill of candy and slutty nurses were throwing back shots, I was still at my desk working on TPS reports.

 

The sound of lips smacking in the silence of the office rang out like a clap of lightning. I looked up to see a man in a slate grey suit sitting on the edge of Harold’s desk. His black silk shirt lay unbuttoned at the top revealing skin as smooth and pale as milk. Wavy black hair fell perfectly in place, nearly to his shoulders. The way his dark eyes stared at me immediately gave me chills.

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Mama Bear

MamaBearA light snow began drifting down through the headlights as we drove to the house. Nicole reached over from the passenger seat captured my hand to hold in hers. I couldn’t help but smile. Snow always put her in the mood to snuggle.

 

The smooth baritone of Bing Crosby serenaded us all the way into my parent’s driveway. She probably didn’t notice it, but her hand squeezed mine a little tighter when we arrived. I knew she was nervous, but mentioning it would only get me punched in the arm. Truth be told, I was a little nervous too. But not for my own sake.

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Animals

My problem was that I was looking at her face. Her brown hair was pulled back in a single ponytail. She paused for a second to let her blue eyes adjust to the dim atmosphere. As she started walking toward the counter I tried to picture her covered in fur with large ears, but nothing really clicked. That’s when I heard Paul’s voice whisper as he poured a shot of espresso. He never looked my way.

“Duck.”

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Return of the Granny Ninjas

Every year I get two’s and sometimes three’s of requests to bring back a particular character from a past story and this year is no different. If you would like to read the original story from which this character originated, you can find it here. Enjoy.

Most September evenings, when the heat of the day had been swept aside by the cool breeze rolling in from the mountains and more often than not the Cubs had thrown away a lead in last few innings, I would often meander out to my third floor balcony to watch the world from above. It was on one such night that my imaginary walls of safety were demolished, exposing me to the true danger of the world in which we live. But more importantly, it was the night I had the best snickerdoodle I have ever tasted.

Thinking back, I cannot remember a single detail that would have hinted that the night ahead of me should be any different from the 9,524 nights that had passed before it. Shortly after the last tendrils of sunlight released their grip on the city, an Eastern wind announced its arrival through the branches of a large birch that scraped against the side of my apartment. My sliding glass door shifted and knocked against its track as if to confirm the wind’s entrance into the city. With Chicago leading by four runs, a tiny flame of hope danced wildly inside me as if the breeze outside my windows had a secret passageway to my heart. Over the next hour I would witness the inevitable collapse of my team in 52 inches of glorious color and pain. (more…)

The War

Thick clouds stretched from one horizon to the other, filtering the sun’s light of all the cheerful colors and casting a gray pallor over the landscape. Trees, having cast off their wardrobe of leaves, sat lifeless throughout the land like monuments of seasons filled with the laughter of children.

Adam stood motionless as he studied the army that stretched out before him. Their forces had surpassed a million by the way they covered the land like paint over a canvas. His shoulders rose slowly with a deep inhale of the stale morning air. Having reached their apex, they dropped suddenly as a silent sigh passed through his barely parted lips.

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Diary of a Zombie

March 3rd

I found a typewriter in the house of an elderly couple today. After eating them I wondered through the house looking at the pictures. I have only been a zombie for a little more than a week and I must say, it takes some getting used to. Did you know that zombies don’t sleep? I think that’s why we are always so cranky. I can feel my mind and body slowly slipping away. I fear that they will degrade until they come to rest at the lowest level possible for existence. I think I will try to make some zombie friends.

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