Whenever the mystery of Colonel Corpse’s murder had been solved, a process happened which Bishop Aubergine could not fathom, and Colonel Corpse was resurrected and murdered yet again.
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Tag: short story
Week 446: Influences; Site Influencers and Under the Influence
Influence
When in a certain mood my mother could kill a good vibe with a comment more quickly than the Andromeda strain can wipe out a small town in the desert. There would be a get together of family and friends, and everyone would be chatting and having a nice time and she would inevitably have to say something like:
“It’s sad to think we will all be as dead as people in old movies someday.” Then she’d cast an innocent glance around the room (which included children) then add “Ever wonder who’ll kick first?”
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Jacob by Hugh Cron – Adult Content
Jacob used to love his walks. He looked at the wildlife, listened to the river and tried to guess the oncoming weather.
…Rain was always a fair bet.
Cause and Effect by Diane M Dickson
The sound was awful and those who lived on the ground floor knew right away that something was terribly wrong. It wasn’t the clang and clatter made when kids chucked stuff over the concrete balconies, and it wasn’t the soft thud like the time the nutter on the tenth floor threw all her clothes over in a bin bag. This was a heavy ‘thunk’.
Josie sitting in the gloom at her place on the corner thought it sounded like the You Tube video of someone smashing their head into a watermelon. In fact, this was a sort of reverse truth and a darned good analogy according to the police.
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Week 440: Cherophobia; Another Sane Summer Week; Actual Site News and More Rejected Questions
Liquifying Cherophobia
Cherophobia is the fear of happiness. Fortunately, it is a treatable if not curable phobia. I guess I have the condition, but I view it as more of an aversion to buying into happiness than the fear of it. Sort of like counting a Gift Horse’s teeth, certain that your free Pony has a set similar to those of a Great White Shark, and that they will be dripping blood–and not Horse blood, either. Cherophobics suspect good news and are constantly listening for the other Horse shoe to drop.
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Week 438: Raised by Cartoons
The art form that had the biggest impact on my mind during childhood was TV cartoons. Yes, art form. And I will also say that cartoons were responsible for the stimulation of however much creativity I was endowed with.
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Pocket Monsters (Blue Version) by Corey Miller
When my wife falls asleep in the hospital, I write Brock on our newborn’s birth certificate then super glue his eyes shut. His hands arrive to this world calloused like he was lifting heavy objects for nine months.
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436: Farewell Neighborhood Dive; Another Week That Was; and the Debut of International, Interstellar, Interdimensional Cloven Hoof Shaking Day
Taking the Dive
Recently, after nearly forty years of business, the nearby Social Club Tavern has closed for good. There’s a special sadness when the wild things in life die.
Still, it’s strange to feel sentimentality for something that was one hell of a long way from sentimental during its existence. The Social Club was rough and tumble. I saw some guy punch the window out of the front door after a fight with his girlfriend. A piece of plywood replaced the window for about a year. I usually like to glance through the window of a bar to get a feel for the situation. Since the Social didn’t have any other windows except the one on the front door, entering blind was a roll of the dice. Only hell knew who or what waited inside.
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SaragunVision ’23 By Leila Allison
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A Nocturnal Visit
I entered my office one morning and discovered a playbill pasted to the window. It was on the outside facing in. A quick check of the spy-cam I recently installed revealed that a Trans Weasel named Penrose had stuck the playbill to my window precisely at the stroke of midnight.
In Penrose’s case “Trans” doesn’t refer to gender (of which she or he is mysterious about). Penrose is a minion of the Witch HeXopatha; HeXy often endows her beloved animal toadies with abilities not normally associated with their species. In that context only, it was perfectly normal that Penrose had morphed into a Flying Weasel.
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WEEK 433: Feral Advice; It’s A Big World Afterall; A to Z of the Kitchen
Feral Advice
Come spring, Feral Tomcats, nature’s charming blighters, seek the bliss of temporary domesticity. Such is happening in my courtyard; or at least the attempt is being made. Both my Feral Tomcat friends, Andy and Alfie are doing well. But Alfie has been smacked with lovesickness.
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