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October 20, 2006


A stranger asked me to buy him gas the other day. Despite the holes in his sob story, I did it anyway, just because.

Write about an undeserved act of charity.

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She was like a lost calf in a large field, gormlessly trying to fit in. A close friend of mine, was suckered in by her "innocence" and introduced us.

I got her to all the right people, took her to parties and generally helped her along.

In return I got slander and backstabbing. A continous campaign to turn all my contacts and acquiantances against me.

I am a firm believer in what goes around comes around. And if there is any justice in chaos her payback is going to be rightous and brutal. Good thing I ain't Christian.

What curse?

Posted by: Andrew Ian Dodge at October 20, 2006 4:42 AM · Permalink

He met women in bars. He took them home and murdered them. He hid their desecrated bodies from their families and even after he was caught he never did express any remorse. He never told exactly how many there were... how many unrecovered souls rotting in dirt far away from anyone who would care. He never said anything to acknowledge the hideousness with which he lived his life. And yet, with all that behind him and nothing to which he could look forward except the needle, there were still people outside holding a vigil, trying to save his lamentable life.

Posted by: WJD at October 20, 2006 7:04 AM · Permalink

Every Monday it was the same rude comment when I walked into the factory. And I tolerated him pointing and laughing at me with his buddies during lunch breaks. The worst were the bathroom trips. If I wasn’t sneaky enough, he would be waiting around the corner to grope me as I ran past.

So it surprised me when he asked for my help. A group of government officials came and the factory was under investigation. All the illegal immigrants were in trouble. Reluctantly, I accepted his proposal for marriage. I needed a date for the company Christmas party anyway.

Posted by: laieanna at October 20, 2006 10:22 AM · Permalink

The Coward:

The six candles were lit, and I had a wish coming. I blew really hard.

My eyes popped open hoping my wish had come true, but, he wasn’t there – he never was.

As Mommy plucked up the cake to serve, the door swung open and in jumped Grandpa. From hours and hours away; “Mommy would be so happy,” I thought.

But he didn’t go to Mom, he came to me. He picked me up, swung me around, called me his boy, called me son. It was the best birthday ever. Daddy didn’t come, but maybe my wish still came true.

Posted by: Kasac at October 20, 2006 11:00 AM · Permalink

"An undeserved act of charity? That's just dick."

"Flaccid goat dick. With a heap of goat dick pie."

"APPLE pie. With ice cream."

"Have you? Ever done a charity whatchacallit?"

"Yeah, yesterday. l gave a crackhead some chips."

"Write that."

"Please. That's so fucking Hallmark Presents. Besides, anyone who has to beg deserves their charity. If you decide not to give them anything, that's fine, too. Only don't go around bragging. That's just middle class guilt."

"You're shit out of luck then."


"I have an extra one. Want it?"

"Well . . . Yeah. But I don't deserve it."

"Heh. That's funny ."

Posted by: ben martini at October 20, 2006 11:27 AM · Permalink

One hundred dollar bill in my pocket. I walked thru a ghetto parking lot to some weird “Save Mart” to buy a phone for one of my friends. He needed a phone to survive and I had free money. A homeless person came up and asked if I could spare beer money. I said “No. Walk with me.” I bought him a week supply of food and let him go.

I looked at the change I had left and called him back. I put the change in his food bag and watched him smile.

Fuck the phone for my friend.

Posted by: the turtle at October 20, 2006 12:18 PM · Permalink

His body contributed to the flotsam of the lake. The head wound turned the murky green water to cloudy brown. Small fish inspected him, nibbling at his fingertips, at his hair. He stared upward, not seeing the heavy clouds rolling in, masking the setting sun.

Shortly, the rains would start and any evidence would wash away.

I wiped the gun free of fingerprints and, just for effect, tossed it into the waters near Jacob’s corpse. It would be found, but shouldn’t pose a problem.

His wife will get the insurance money, and, hopefully, my karma should be back on track.

Posted by: PB McCoy at October 20, 2006 2:08 PM · Permalink

Check before you post!