Future History Lesson

“Science teaches us that life on Earth emerged from the seas millions of years ago,” Mr. Finny began. “Our ancestors crawled out of the waters, entering a world brightly lit by a star during the day, and by a moon and more distant stars at night.

They discovered remnants of an ancient, barbaric civilization. Dwellings taller than the world loomed over them. They wondered what sort of creatures populated the planet before.

Then, they found the pictures.”

Mr. Finny held one up for the class to see. 

The children squealed in mock terror, covering their eyes with their foremost tentacles. 

The Crystal Chamber

This story was published Wednesday in Luna Station Quarterly's "Drabble" issue and was selected as one of their stories of the week. 

The second survey crew landed near the object embedded in the southern hemisphere of a dead world. They’d lost contact with the first team months ago.

The artifact resembled an enormous crystalline worm buried in the earth. A nearby cave led them down into a chamber filled with alien devices. Numerous bones lay scattered all around.

What they thought was the artifact blocked the passageway on the opposite side.

A portal was set into the construct, lined with spikes that sparkled like icicles.

They understood too late as the chamber began broadcasting black noise.

The worm was ready to feed.

The Best Homework Excuse Ever

November 18, 2010 marks the 25th Anniversary of the comic strip "Calvin and Hobbes." Enjoy.

I was sitting under the tree in our backyard with a notepad and pen, writing my book report which was due in the morning. 

The sky was beginning to darken. 

Suddenly, a very bright light stabbed through the branches overhead, shimmering oddly. 

A spaceship landed in front of me. 

I jumped up, startled. A scream caught in my throat.

Then, the aliens emerged: five little green men. One ran up and snatched the notebook from my hands. Scurrying back to his brethren, he began tearing paper out, handing the torn pages to each of them. 

I guess they were hungry.

The Pendulum Swings On and On

I  stand on gray museum marble, watching the pendulum’s parachronistic swing.

A strange desire fills me. I dismiss it as madness. 

Sensing movement, I turn. A familiar gaze, like looking at an old mirror, cracked and gray, meets mine. "I’ll see you in twenty years," he says. 

He jumps, gracefully arcing, mounting the oscillating arm like a fireman's pole. Our mental connection surprises me, then he winks and I understand. 

My vardoger fades out of existence.

I replay the scene in my mind over and over, so that when the time comes, I’ll be able to execute it perfectly again.

The New Book on the Shelf

The new book was placed on the bookcase between Lady Chatterly’s Lover and The Kama Sutra.

Since one can endure only so much of anything, the stunned little paperback crept sheepishly away from those two naughty tomes and jumped to the shelf below.

There, it nestled comfortably between Louis L’Amour and Zane Grey.

Within minutes, the people on the cover began ducking, shaking their fists as arrows and bullets whizzed past their heads, dangerously close.

The book catapulted to the shelf underneath, sighing with fatigue. It squeezed between Dante’s Inferno and Milton’s Paradise Lost.

And then all hell broke loose.

A Girl With Brains

This weekend I'm celebrating my first ever premiere and book signing event. Yay! I have a story appearing in a local anthology "Zombie Nation: St. Pete." You can read more about it here, and also about a contest I'm thinking of having to give away any extra copies of the book that I pick up. Also appearing in this book is Jeff Strand, who is sort of the Stephen King of Tampa Bay. He's that good. So, please visit this blog post titled: Creepy Things, Zombie Nation and a contest..., and leave a comment on how you would best enjoy participating in this contest. In honor of the release of "Zombie Nation: St. Pete," this weeks #fridayflash is a "resurrected" zombie drabble. Deanna Schrayer inspired me to use it with our "mushy love" tweets this week. I'm still going to write another "mushy love" story for you, Deanna. ;)

"Men!" Barbara shouted indignantly, to no one in particular. "They're so thickheaded. They only love my body and not my brains." Barbara's latest failed relationship had left her feeling somewhat jaded.

She pondered the absolute pointlessness of her love life. She'd had many lovers recently and none of them had understood or really satisfied her. But they were smart, and she’d learned something new from each one of them.

"After all," she sighed, "I loved them for their brains."

She lifted the oozing skull of her latest lover to her lips and, making loud slurping noises, sucked the brainpan clean.

Elder's Journey

With busy hands, the Protectors readied the slumbering gods for their journey to a new home. When the Astronomers observed the alignment of certain stars (according to their calculations) the craft were launched.

The Elder Ones went first.

The Astronomers were certain the capsules would remain unopened until they reached their destination: the planet they had seen in visions.

One of the Elders landed near an island on the new world.

The hatch opened slowly and Cthulhu emerged, stretched his scaly body and shook his tentacled head. He lumbered off to explore his new domain and search for eager supplicants.

The Best Homework Excuse Ever

I was sitting under the tree in our backyard with a notepad and pen, writing my book report which was due in the morning.

The sky was beginning to darken.

Suddenly, a very bright light stabbed through the branches overhead, shimmering oddly.

A spaceship landed in front of me.

I jumped up, startled. A scream caught in my throat.

Then, the aliens emerged: five little green men. One ran up and snatched the notebook from my hands. Scurrying back to his brethren, he began tearing paper out, handing the torn pages to each of them.

I guess they were hungry.

(Submitted to The Drabblecast on 9/19/09. Just forgot to post it on this blog when I started it. Well, better late than never.)

Cosmic Chicken Inn

Everyone knows that Cosmic Chicken Inn has the best eats anywhere.

They’re located 42 AU away on Rigel 7, but worth the wait. I logged in to place my order, waiting for the wireless ansible to connect.

“Cosmic Chicken Inn, this is Zephod. Pick-up or delivery?”

“Delivery. I’d like two Buckets o’ Birds, four Waznian Lizard Sticks, a side of Hashisha Slaw and a glazed doughnut,” I said, transmitting my coordinates.

“Don’t forget. Hang a right at the Oort Cloud,” I added.

“It’ll be about two hours,” replied Zephod.

“Two hours? I hope you don’t break the speed limit.”

The Crystal Chamber

The second survey crew landed near the object embedded in the southern hemisphere of a dead world. They’d lost contact with the first team months ago.

The artifact resembled an enormous crystalline worm buried in the earth. A nearby cave led them down into a chamber filled with alien devices. Numerous bones lay scattered all around.

What they thought was the artifact blocked the passageway on the opposite side.

A portal was set into the construct, lined with spikes that sparkled like icicles.

They understood too late as the chamber began broadcasting black noise.

The worm was ready to feed.


(This drabble was submitted both to Drabblecast's drabble forum and to Sam's Dot Publishing "Drabbler #16" Contest, the theme of which is "Alien Architecture." Drabblecaster's are submitting some mighty good 100 word stories for this thus far. I hope some of us at least get in the magazine and earn a crisp new George Washington for all our hard drabbling.)

Rosdalla, 1055

23, April. St. George's Day.

We are in the seventh hour of this accursed vision.

I have no doubt we will die today, for the scourge of God is upon us.

We, the townspeople, continue to stare at this cylindrical tower of fire in the sky, whose violence will not abate.

Mighty birds of prey fly in and out of it, through its numerous doors and windows. They swoop down, snatching small animals in their terrible talons, then drop them to the ground, dead. They tear large trees up by their roots.

All our hopes seem scattered by the winds.



(I knew I would have to do a drabble like this, sooner or later.)

Unfinished Business

“I’m coming back for you,” the man said to the crowded courtroom, eyes locked on Bobby’s eight-year old form. “When you all growed up.”

Bobby shivered. This man murdered his family while Bobby hid, terrified.

Years later, Bobby watched as guards led the murderer into Sparky’s waiting embrace. He wanted his nightmares to die in the lightning. The lights flickered. The killer wailed, “I’m coming back for you!”

When Bobby grew old, those words still haunted him as he sat in his rocking chair.

The lights flickered, went out.

“Now you all growed up,” whispered the shadow.

Bobby screamed.

Future History Lesson

“Science teaches us that life on Earth emerged from the seas millions of years ago,” Mr. Finny began. “Our ancestors crawled out of the waters, entering a world brightly lit by a star during the day, and by a moon and more distant stars at night.

They discovered remnants of an ancient, barbaric civilization. Dwellings taller than the world loomed over them. They wondered what sort of creatures populated the planet before.

Then, they found the pictures.”

Mr. Finny held one up for the class to see.

The children squealed in mock terror, covering their eyes with their foremost tentacles.

The Pendulum Swings On and On

I stand on gray museum marble, watching the pendulum’s parachronistic swing.

A strange desire fills me. I dismiss it as madness.

Sensing movement, I turn. A familiar gaze, like looking at an old mirror, cracked and gray, meets mine. "I’ll see you in twenty years," he says.

He jumps, gracefully arcing, mounting the oscillating arm like a fireman's pole. Our mental connection surprises me, then he winks and I understand.

My vardoger fades out of existence.

I replay the scene in my mind over and over, so that when the time comes, I’ll be able to execute it perfectly again.

A Girl With Brains

"Men!" Barbara shouted indignantly, to no one in particular. "They're so thickheaded. They only love my body and not my brains." Barbara's latest failed relationship had left her feeling somewhat jaded.

She pondered the absolute pointlessness of her love life. She'd had many lovers recently and none of them had understood or really satisfied her. But they were smart, and she’d learned something new from each one of them.

"After all," she sighed, "I loved them for their brains."

She lifted the oozing skull of her latest lover to her lips and, making loud slurping noises, sucked the brainpan clean.

Hell Hath No Fury

“Cheating bastard!” I fumed and waited for Donald to come home.

I found out about the affair six months ago and spent the last two preparing my goodbye. I waited calmly, just beyond the perimeter of my hastily scrawled handiwork. I heard the key turning in the lock.

Donald stepped inside and smiled at me. “Hi, honey! I’m home.”

His last words echoed shock and pain as he was suddenly consumed by the bright, hot flames which erupted and descended back into the pentagram scratched upon the floor where Donald had once stood.

“No,” I laughed madly. “Now you’re home.”

The Canyon of Death

There was a tunnel in a cave on a sheer cliff in the valley of The People. They explored it sometimes, foraging for food.

Most did not return.

The end of the tunnel opened upon a smooth, yellow canyon. The People called the canyon: "Death" because a giant was rumored to live there.

One day, a forager ventured into the canyon: alone and frightened. All he felt before the end was a rush of air from above.

The giant removed its shoe and scraped the dead thing into the swirling lake nearby.

“Damn frogs in the bathtub again!” it said.

The New Book on the Shelf

The new book was placed on the bookcase between Lady Chatterly’s Lover and The Kama Sutra.

Since one can endure only so much of anything, the stunned little paperback crept sheepishly away from those two naughty tomes and jumped to the shelf below.

There, it nestled comfortably between Louis L’Amour and Zane Grey.

Within minutes, the people on the cover began ducking, shaking their fists as arrows and bullets whizzed past their heads, dangerously close.

The book catapulted to the shelf underneath, sighing with fatigue. It squeezed between Dante’s Inferno and Milton’s Paradise Lost.

And then all hell broke loose.

The Wine Cooler Ad: A Play

This is actually a hundred word drabble story and one that I will NEVER submit to Drabblecast. It is the very first drabble I ever wrote and was nothing more than an exercise in telling a hundred word fart joke.


Announcer: Buy “Fartles and Blames!” The wine cooler with the interesting smell everyone’s talking about.

Bottle Number 1: “Oh, man! You stink! That’s one serious bomb you just dropped. Do you need a doctor?”

Bottle Number 2: “That’s not me, man! This guy beside me must have done it! Whew! It smells like a bad bag of boiled peanuts in here!" (Turns to Bottle Number 3 and says): "Couldn’t you have waited until you were alone, dude? I mean, seriously!”

Bottle Number 3: “He who smelt it dealt it! I didn’t do any thing."

Bottle Number 4 remains strangely silent.