100 Words - Shores Of The Past

 

I stand on the shore, at the far end of America, feeding scraps of nostalgia to the sea gulls. The ghost of Daisy, the dog of my youth, stands guard over the horseshoe crabs. The salt air longs for the taste of ice cream from the now extinct sandy-floored store.

It’s funny how rarely nostalgia works for me. It always starts nice but quickly spirals down to embarrassing events and moments of failure. I try to break the spiral by looking to the future. However, as my future shrinks I find myself living more in the present. Better that way.

Drill Infinity

What's your sign on the dotted line?

 

We sat on a rock overlooking the putrid pond, watching the swamp gas-colored sunset. It smelled like moldy wallpaper and ammonia. She looked into my eyes for a long time till she said, “You have weird eyebrows.” Failed romantic attempt number 17.

Yes, I keep track. I’m writing a book on how to not pick up girls. All the books in this area with a positive bent are totally unrealistic. In my book people with identify with my situations and actions. They will see things they thought of trying and will now know that they shouldn’t.

It will be self-published.

Walrus

Officer Rusow finds a fetish

 

Her intention was to lay waste my heart and leave me penniless. She demanded I lay every extravagance at her feet. Every shiny bauble had to be hers. The finest fabrics and gourmet foods were the only things that could satisfy her discerning tastes.

Nothing was too good for her and what I could offer was never enough. There was never enough income to match the outlay. Then one day she just wasn’t there anymore. No note, no hint, no witnesses. She was just gone. Forever. Yet, despite the hell she put me through, I still love that damn cat.

The Sunny Beaufort

Not all dreams are practical, but they are dreams none-the-less.

100 Words - Argument Buddies

Karen and I sat together at lunch nearly every day during college, having spirited discussions about this, that and the other thing. We called them discussions. Our friends called them arguments. It’s rare, finding someone who enjoys arguing. I mean discussing.

We were friends and polar opposites. Our discourse was always civil. We listened to each, reasoned responses, and never spoke over each other.

Then we had sex.

It was over. Our attitudes towards each other changed. You can’t have a sparring partner you care about. The fire went out of our relationship. We worked as neither adversaries nor lovers.

Screens and Beers

Successful writing depends on a myriad of esoteric factors, and sometimes beer.

100 Words - Sex and Sin

 

Sex did not gently enter my life. It came wrath of God screaming. Condemning me to hell for my curiosity. It started with a blue pamphlet left by my bedside that promised to answer my questions about sex, which for every question was SIN!

Then there was my father’s sex talk with me which in its entirety was, “If you play with yourself you’ll be damned to hell.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was too late. Next Sunday I confessed to the priest. He laughed and told me not to worry about it. Scarred for life.