| Microfiction: Washington with Pterodactyls |
[Jun. 26th, 2009|04:26 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  anxious | ] |
As I stepped out the door of the apartment, carefully adjusting my slicker, a brown-white glop fell on my shoulder.
I looked up and saw a flock of nemis, mostly males resplendent in their summer mating hair, silver and copper and alabaster, in hypnotic striped patterns. There were some bare patches on some of the wings, which fit with the mange epidemic I'd be reading about.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Pattern |
[Jun. 25th, 2009|04:44 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  tired | ] |
I felt particularly racist that morning, which was making it difficult to concentrate.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Ecology |
[Jun. 24th, 2009|05:04 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  crazy | ] |
We were playing Monopoly by moonlight and candles when it started.
I was winning, and I had my favorite piece, the shoe. To my left was the thimble's player, Margaret, shaped like a luscious pear and about as hairless, and across from me was the wheelbarrow's player, Gail, with skin the color of good shoe leather and lips that always shone, even without lipstick. At my right and several inches shorter than me even when sitting down was Gene, who was paying more attention to the ladies and less attention to the game than I was, though he had loudly insisted on the racecar.
I was moving the shoe onto Park Place, which would have allowed me to complete another set of properties, when Gene went pale, and started muttering about what an utter waste of time this was.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Surflection |
[Jun. 23rd, 2009|07:06 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  exhausted | ] |
The Metro car was mostly empty. Closest to me was a woman on the tail end of her thirties, who kept making these tiny wet sounds with her mouth that made it impossible for me to read.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Misfiring Nailgun |
[Jun. 22nd, 2009|07:19 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | exhausted | ] |
I reached out to shake his hand. It looked like a piece of deer meat that had been in laid out for a day on a desert plateau.
I looked around the room. The leather in the chair I hovered over, or the matching couch he sat on, looked only slighly better than him. Slightly less wrinkled. There was nothing else in the room, not even a table.
But the grip was firm, and though the face matched the hand yet with gunmetal grey frizz added, the eyes were clear and the color of acorns.
( Read more... ) |
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| By The Way... |
[Jun. 22nd, 2009|07:17 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic, random | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  optimistic | ] |
I finally went back and gave titles to all the microficion for this year that didn't have one. Opinions welcome. |
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| Microfiction: Scape |
[Jun. 18th, 2009|04:34 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  lazy | ] |
Rust showed through the white paint on the bars, but they were still much too thick to break, with cores uncorrupted and unbending.
More of a problem was what remained of the shelf that had once served as a bed, now a collection of moss, russet shards, and spiders fat with eggs that Elijah squatted next to.
Elijah himself was a sort of collection. In his case, he seemed to be a pile of sharp joints, skin the color of sun-faded chocolate, and hair so white and bristly it could have been used in a toothbrush.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Know Dualism |
[Jun. 17th, 2009|04:53 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | lazy | ] |
It took a little while after waking for Vincent to realize something was wrong.
He woke quickly, and could feel the blood pulsing in every vein, full to nearly bursting. It felt gorgeous, like he'd been running all-out and the endorphins had kicked in.
Vincent spent several minutes just enjoying the feeling of being awake, before he tried to slick back his hair.
And discovered he had hooves.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: U 1.794 |
[Jun. 16th, 2009|03:56 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
The professor was short, with ears like mug handles and a mustache like moss on an overhanging rock.
He wrote with an orange dry-erase marker and smiled at the students as they came in. He even smiled at the tall, unclothed young gentleman with an old-fashioned Colt pistol in his right hand.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Oniontown |
[Jun. 15th, 2009|05:18 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
It's not easy being made of cardboard, but Beowulf of Oniontown made up for it with a fierce name, piercing blue eyes drawn with a fountain pen, and sheer bravado.
Little Jonah of Oniontown trailed behind Beowulf as he kicked down the door. Luckily, the door was also made of cardboard, so Beowulf only creased himself a little in the process.
Jonah, on the other hand, carefully made sure his own creases were still in place, since he was made of folded newsprint.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Twenty Acres of Decision |
[Jun. 11th, 2009|07:48 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  busy | ] |
Theodore Blank wafted up to the counter of the 7-11. He looked like pale coils of ethernet cabling bundled with wrinkled burlap.
He put $200 on the counter, all for lottery tickets, minus one travel pack of Kleenex.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Nineteen's Ascension |
[Jun. 3rd, 2009|06:11 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
When Mrs. Farber looked at the plus sign on the home pregnancy test, already deciding to make a doctor's appointment, she said: "Fuck it, we'll just name it Nineteen."
( Read more... ) |
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| (Microfiction) Wretched Excess: Age 18 |
[Jun. 1st, 2009|04:47 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  sleepy | ] |
On the fifth day of the experiment, Joe Manning started to hallucinate.
Manning wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the discipline. Remaining
intoxicated continually, without alcohol poisoning, required a very
careful regime.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Discovery on Day 17 |
[May. 29th, 2009|06:04 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Day 11. Exhausted. Tired of hauling stone after goddamn stone. This deep, half the time, the stone crumbles, sprinkling a fine green powder that reminds me of green sugar, like you'd get in Pixy Stix.
Boss has returned from back surgery. Not using enough medication made him grumpy. He doesn't exactly yell, but it's like he's disappointed in all of us. Reminds us of procedure, especially ones we've never heard of.
He's always covered in the green powder, even though he isn't hauling any rocks.
( Day 12 ) |
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| Microfiction: Sacrifice in Sixteen Minutes |
[May. 28th, 2009|04:02 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Pay attention, kiddies. There will be a quiz at the end.
Two men in a room alone, and the nearly subsonic trill of an air
conditioner. Only one door, of solid oak. A table and two chairs, one
man per chair. A camera in one corner, wired into the wall and angled so
it could see both men. Notably, the camera had certain disconnected
wires that attested to its lack of audio capacity.
The private surrender talks had gone on for fifteen minutes, but the
President of the United States of America would not budge.
"America believes -- even unto death -- in the principles of
representative democracy," said the President. "We will not capitulate
to a foreign power, one that does not represent our people. Period. End
stop. End of discussion."
He stood up, but the other man put out a hand. Even the air conditioner
paused.
"Wait," said the Canadian Prime Minister, placing a finely-tooled pistol
on the table, angular and black and aggressively unmarked to the point
of being nearly iconic.
"I'll make you an offer," said the Prime Minister. "If you shoot
yourself in the head... I'll consider myself outvoted. I'll call off the
invasion, and I'll get the Mexicans to stop as well."
The President sat back down.
He picked up the gun, and felt its heft. Then, he placed it in his
mouth, angled the gun upward, and slowly squeezed the trigger.
( MULTIPLE CHOICE ENDING ) |
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| Microfiction: Forbidden Love at Fifteen |
[May. 22nd, 2009|05:00 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
At fifteen years of age, Rob Adams declared his undying and, most
importantly, physical as well as metaphysical love for his
limited edition vinyl copy of the album "Hopes and Fears" by the British
piano rock band Keane.
He was not ashamed of his love, and was seen by his schoolmates "making
out" with the record, vigorously wriggling his peach-pink tongue in the
album's spindle hole.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Fourteen-Love |
[May. 21st, 2009|05:58 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
It was her eyes that always got him. Slightly pinched, always a little watery, and the same color as the unglazed mug she always carried around.
"I love you, Fourteen," he said, taking her empty hand.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Maturation at 13 |
[May. 20th, 2009|05:35 pm] |
The man was wrinkled yet pink, like someone had left him in the bathtub
for too long. A smeared rectangle of fuzz was wrapped around his
shoulders, and he was leaning on a crooked, warty tube of wood.
Jonny watched the man through the window while he blew on the candles,
counting them as he blew. One, two, three, four...
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: A Dozen Transformations |
[May. 19th, 2009|06:00 pm] |
1. His mother told him she wasn't angry, but disappointed. Dave barely
understood, but his perspective shifted and twisted, and
he saw things as she did for an infinite breath that he remembered until
puberty. He threw up, all acid and sugar, and hated himself for it.
2. Helen Peterson was bending over in the hoop skirt she was wearing for
choir. Dave looked, mugging with double exaggeration so his friends
would see and laugh... But the genial curve -- the flip shape -- made
him step back and forth in his robes, and he never looked at Helen
without flushing again.
( 3. ) |
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| Microfiction: The Ten Temptations of the Kitty Christ |
[Apr. 28th, 2009|10:57 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Fucking Boyfriend (Peaches Remix) -- The Bird and the Bee | ] |
And while He was alone in the wilderness, Lucy, the Cat of the Morning, came before Kitty Christ to tempt Him to join her in her rebellion against the One God, Jayvah, Lord of the Purring Hosts.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Underdog #9 |
[Apr. 28th, 2009|10:55 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  awake | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Blue Jeans -- Ladytron | ] |
The Champion was undefeated. He was a solid seven feet tall, muscled and round from time on a high gravity world. His skin was the color of tar left for a day in the sun, and his teeth and eyes contrasted brightly. So long as he was the last man standing, he would be allowed to breed with the Queen in as brutal or as gentle a manner as he liked.
"Another underdog enters the ring," rang out the announcer with a voice that, even from the orbiting speakers, sounded like a barker from a carnival at the dawn of Man. "Will he defeat the Champion and replace him? Or will he join the eight men who went before him? With fifteen hours left in the endurance trial, it’s anyone’s game…"
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Rivalry of the Eighth Age |
[Apr. 28th, 2009|10:51 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  full | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Is It Medicine -- The Knife | ] |
In the Seventh Age of Man, it came to pass that two men fell in love with the same woman.
This was an unusual thing in the Seventh Age, as most men not only had more than enough women to choose from, but they often chose each other, in greater proportion than in the Sixth Age.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Riddle of the Seven Seas, 2007 |
[Apr. 23rd, 2009|06:25 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
Captain Clark's ship put the "tramp" in "tramp-tanker". The MV Duodenum,
named on a bet and having been in service for over forty years, was long
overdue for scrapping, and it looked it. Its paint was not so much
peeling as the hanging strips made it look like a giant Brillo pad from
a distance, and it lay in the water in an uneasy way that was tough to
put your finger on, like it was going to sink any minute.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Six-Meter Revenge |
[Apr. 22nd, 2009|06:19 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Matt stood, scowling and eyes narrowed, while police officers with jaws
like parallelograms walked out of his apartment with his desktop, his
laptop, even his cell phone... Each item in the white file-sized box
labeled with Sharpie, no matter how small the actual object was.
The officer in charge stood next to Matt the whole time. His name tag
read simply "Lorenzo". His expression was almost identical to Matt's,
only it was directed at the man standing next to him rather than the
other officers. Lorenzo's face was older and had had a longer amount of
time between shaves, which meant the lines from the scowling showed even
more clearly and deeply on his face.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Fifth Escape Attempt |
[Apr. 21st, 2009|07:22 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Since his fourth escape attempt, Simon had been confined to the smallest, worst cell.
There was an uncovered toilet, and a shelf for sleeping, and just enough room for those features inside the cage of criss-crossed iron, a bubble of metal against a single wall. A dancing line of raw sewage skittered down the wall, waxing and waning with the water use in the prison.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Quad Rescue |
[Apr. 20th, 2009|04:57 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  insane | ] |
Harry felt actively queasy when he entered the room. He leaned against the wall, and made a queer hiccupping noise as his whole body undulated with dry heaves.
The room was lit by a single lightbulb, a bare compact fluorescent on a chain that had actually been in place long enough to yellow somewhat. When one looked up, one saw the ceiling was mirrored, and Harry only briefly noted his unshaven face. In one corner was an ancient mattress without sheets, the flower pattern obscured by dirt somewhat. There seemed to be flies on every surface, and yet none in the air, like the insects were too lethargic to take flight.
But that isn't what made him heave.
( WARNING: Nastiness ahead. ) |
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| Microfiction: Third Planet Pursuit |
[Apr. 17th, 2009|04:05 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  bored | ] |
Wayne crouched on the cast aluminum platform that he had attached to the
tree only a few minutes before, settling down on the seat, which was
perhaps a little too large for him. His fellow hunters had mocked him
for carrying the thing into the field, but he found it a much more
comfortable way to prepare an ambush.
He glanced at the tree next to the one he was in, so close that it was
nearly growing into the tree that Wayne was in, but just far enough
apart to be distinct. A squirrel twitched into a hole, shaking a branch
slightly.
Wayne checked pulleys on the bow hanging from the platform, and made
sure the wasabi-green paste was evenly spread on the tips of the arrows
in the quiver slung on the other side. The bow smelled of lithium grease
and the salt bite of his own sweat.
The air itself had that overly-crisp, organic-yet-chemical smell that
you only got inside a forest under a geodesic dome with air
conditioning. Through the triangular shapes of the dome, the sunlight
was distant yet warmer than normal.
Then Wayne looked back down.
( The skuk twirled into view... ) |
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| Microfiction: Second Adventure |
[Apr. 16th, 2009|05:35 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
Knowing that smarter people had made the same mistake was not a balm for the tight, burning sensation in her side as Jeni looked at the Excel spreadsheet where she kept track of her personal finances.
It was a simple fact: Her little adventure into the world of high risk investment had left her shattered and spent. For the rest of her life, she'd flinch when someone mentioned mortgage-backed securities.
( Plan B ) |
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| Microfiction: One Quest |
[Apr. 15th, 2009|05:15 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  hungry | ] |
Abishai opened his eyes. Well, his eye. The first thing he noticed was
that his right eye was missing.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Balm |
[Apr. 14th, 2009|04:24 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | tired | ] |
The man was in his thirties, but there was a streak of grey in his
short, black hair. He sat on the couch, surrounded by people who didn't
look at him or each other. The issue of Time in his lap had
stayed on the same page for the last fifteen minutes.
He stood up, magazine in hand, when he glimpsed the surgeon and two
residents walking toward him. When he noticed how carefully neutral
their expressions were, his shoulder muscles clinched and his left side
kinked and burned.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Push |
[Apr. 13th, 2009|04:32 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  annoyed | ] |
Carlos and Frank stood in the corner of the hallway. There wasn't
anything there, just hardwood and whitewashed brick. Most people would
have put a bookcase up in such a wasted alcove, but there was nothing
but the smell of floorwax and dust cooked in the heating ducts.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Combat Eschatologist |
[Apr. 9th, 2009|06:02 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | sleepy | ] |
The man's face was ugly, pitted. There were similar pits all over his
naked body, but the most were on his face. He lay on his back, long
black hair flowing down the hunk of granite under his head and
shoulders, stuck to the rock with grease and time.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Crash Site |
[Apr. 8th, 2009|06:55 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  cold | ] |
The grit swirled around my feet. It wasn't quite sand, being somewhat... chunkier... than the stuff from home, not to mention it was the color of fresh mildew.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Ordeal |
[Apr. 3rd, 2009|08:44 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  sick | ] |
The cup wasn't crude. It was simple and round and wooden, but smooth from careful sandpapering. It had visible grain like a recently-dusted fingerprint, whorled and organic. It had the same exquisite dignity, divine and material, as the man who had owned it.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Instant |
[Apr. 2nd, 2009|04:50 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | exhausted | ] |
Coatlicue's clear, tenebrous skin was so sweat-covered that it refracted the moonlight. She would have been an exquisite sight, running stark except for a belt pouch and her soused braids, if not for her scowl and
too-wide, dilated eyes.
( She didn't stumble... ) |
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| Goddamn It... |
[Apr. 1st, 2009|09:06 am] |
| [ | Tags | | | random | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | awake | ] |
I got so busy in the last couple of days that I forgot today was going to be April 1.
So, there's two things I'm kinda a grump about: Christmas gifts and April Fool's Day.
Just a quick reminder, kids: I do not enjoy being the victim of April Fool's pranks. Or, more accurately, any April Fool prank involving emotional manipulation of my positive qualities (i.e. my ability to care) is not cool.
Rather than repeat myself, let us review:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/xiombarg/491090.html
That entry links to other entries, and covers the whole deal, really.
Non-personal hoaxes, like posting The Onion sort of stuff as totally deadpan, and/or if the subject matter is merely surreal and not manipulative or tragic, is all good, and, more to the point, perhaps actually funny. |
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| Microfiction: Barry |
[Mar. 31st, 2009|07:45 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | crazy | ] |
Barry was big. Not very tall, but wide and all muscle, bone, and gristle. Bumping into Barry was like being over-run in a Tokyo subway crowd. (In more ways than one... Barry was a Southerner, and polite to a fault.)
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Tamar's Echo |
[Mar. 25th, 2009|12:12 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | busy | ] |
The pile of socks had obviously been there a long time. The sweat had
dried, but the dirt had remained, binding the pile into a stiff, but
inchoate, shape. Because of the passage of time, there was surprisingly
little scent, just a hazy impression of lint and salt.
When the young man reached down to grab the pile, it growled like a
chihuahua, making more noise than one might expect from something that
size.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: The Office Merchant |
[Mar. 24th, 2009|02:06 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | awake | ] |
The black tape dispenser slid up and down underneath the desk among a
pile of old printouts. She had very little tape left, and there was a
white dusting on the curve that led from the roll of tape up to her
serrated edge, bridged by a line of transparent plastic.
Small pencils, sharpened to a nub, dirty yellow and nearly free of
erasers, writhed as she slid by, and whistled, low and clear, like they
were calling to a bird.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Flavor |
[Mar. 23rd, 2009|06:12 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | fic | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | queasy | ] |
The shaker full of crushed red pepper was beautiful. The bottle of sesame seed oil admired her curves, especially the way her plastic body dipped inward at the neck, with the red "McCormick" label like a collar. The red of her cap inflamed him, especially as it sat loosely on her, not properly screwed on.
( Read more... ) |
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| Microfiction: Rotten Choices |
[Mar. 22nd, 2009|01:23 am] |
"If you asked me, they're no longer human," said the man on Fox News. "Shoot to kill."
William shuddered, but he didn't turn it off until the commercial for Orbitz came on, promising to get "good rates to safe destinations" like Singapore.
William said a prayer, and then he stood up.
( Read more... ) |
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