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August 11, 2005

Volume 5, Issue 11

Tomorrow is my birthday, but not my turn to create the theme, so I will do it here and now instead:

Wish someone happy birthday.

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It had been seven years since Mark's wife had been savagely assaulted; she hung on for a week before finally passing away. The police said it was a dead-end case, but Mark knew better. He quit his job and dedicated himself to finding the man responsible. He had finally found the assailant, even though he lost himself in the process.

"Please, man, don't do this... I was messed up back then. I'd do anything for a fix."

"And I'd do anything for my wife. Happy birthday, Jenny..." he murmured. "...wherever you are." The night was punctuated by a single gunshot.

Posted by: Johnny Catbird at August 11, 2005 9:46 AM · Permalink

It was his birthday, the twelfth, maybe the thirteenth. Ivat was probably in town because of grandfather's broken hip. but at the time Jake thought it was for his party. Mom and Dad were busy with the doctors all afternoon, and Ivat volunteered to take him to the movies.

When they got into the car, his uncle turned to him and grinned conspiratorially. "Don't tell your parents" he said, "But we're not going to the cinema, but someplace much better for a birthday boy. We're going to the Red Carnival."

Jake hadn't known that there was a Carnival in town.

Posted by: Jeff R. at August 11, 2005 10:47 AM · Permalink

Dodo gazed proudly upon her perfect pure white Egg and then settled. But something rocked violently beneath her. Rechecking, she found Egg had cracked. Aghast, she watched Egg split in twain. A mass of wet pinfeathers heaved itself from the remains.

This thing had destroyed her greatest creation! It must die! It was small enough to swallow whole. That’s what Dodo did.

The dismayed Investigators who revived the dodo from extinction observed the female eat yet another of her young. “No wonder the damned things went extinct the first time,” one said. “Hell of a happy birthday,” muttered the other.

Posted by: Amphioxus at August 11, 2005 11:02 AM · Permalink

He smelled the alcohol when she opened the door, and knew he was in for it. As she demanded to know where he had been, why he was so late, he tried to explain about the wreck and the traffic jam, but she would have none of it. She was still raging, accusing him of having an affair, when he handed her the box.

She saw the expensive bracelet, then looked up to see him heading out the front door. "Where are you going?" she demanded.

"I'm going out for a few drinks," he sneered in reply. "Happy birthday, bitch."

Posted by: hnumpah at August 11, 2005 11:10 AM · Permalink

"I don't get birthdays?" asked Macduff, on the verge of tears.

"I guess not," said Banquo's ghost. "But you're like, the king of Scotland now."

"But I have no heir!"

"You'll bounce back from that. You're the comeback kid. C'mon, don't be depressed."

"This is a fucking tragedy," Macduff got out between sobs.

"You're looking at it the wrong way. You're young, you're successful in battle - you just need to find the right woman."

Macduff moped.

"Well, you did kill Macbeth," said Banquo, finally.

"Aye," said Macduff, "that I did. So foul yet fair a day I have not seen."

Posted by: G-Do at August 11, 2005 3:30 PM · Permalink

When he entered his name and the date of his birth into google he was astonished to find out he was listed on google as being scheduled to die on that very day.

He wanted desperately to alter the fact that someone besides himself had known that he intended to kill himself on that day, and he figured that if he waited another day, the blogger or whoever it was messing with him would suffer the indignity of being wrong on google.

Or they could correct the information every day for the rest of his life.

Unless he outlived them.

Posted by: reelcobra at August 11, 2005 5:30 PM · Permalink