« Previous Issue | Main | Next Issue »

December 20, 2006


The cliche says that time heals all wounds.

Write about a hurt that never fades.

Comments (8)     Bookmark: del.icio.usDiggreddit

David: It's Not Easy

“I know it’s silly,” he told her, wiping away a tear. “I can’t help it.”

“I know.”

“It was over a decade ago. And it’s not like I knew the man personally.”

She patted his hand.

“I suppose it says more about me than him. Like, part of my childhood died with him. How greedy is that? ‘I’m sad you’re dead because I can’t get what I want from you anymore.’”

“It’s perfectly natural,” she assured him.

“It was so senseless and sudden, so not the way he was supposed to go.”

She squeezed him. “I miss Jim Henson too.”

Comments (3)     Bookmark: del.icio.usDiggreddit

Jeff R.: Kings of Hearts

It isn't that America doesn't have Kings. It does. It just doesn't always let them run the government.

One of the Four Kings of America is always the Fisher King, the keeper of the Grail, afflicted with a Wound That Never Heals. We've had Fisher King Presidents twice in living memory- Roosevelt and Reagan- although neither of their Wounds were visible while they held office.

The next Fisher King of America has yet to be chosen. The Grail is securely stored in the Reagan Library. When the new King comes into his title, it will find it's way to him.

Comments (0)     Bookmark: del.icio.usDiggreddit

Ted: Unforgiving

The rift between Bilar II and Bilar !V had simmered for centuries. It's origins based on the attempted assasination of the young princess of Bilar II, Bilaria.

Bilaria survived the attack, reached her majority, and became queen long before the space fleet was prepared. Hundreds of thousands of young Bils had enlisted, served, and retired before the fleet ever left spacedock. At last, the cold war of building and refining weapons was complete.

Millions of mothers turned out on the day, some three centuries after the attack, to watch the fleet finally get underway.

The military contractors cried joyful tears.

Comments (0)     Bookmark: del.icio.usDiggreddit

Tanya: Untitled

“Coach! Coach!”

“I’m here, son. Let the paramedics work.”

“It’s just dislocated, kid. Relax your leg, and… Look! It’s Elvis!”


{ Pop }

“Aaaaarrghhh! Oh my holy fucking...”

They let him swear until he realized it didn’t hurt anymore. “Will I ever play football again, doc?”

“I’m not a doctor. But yeah, you’ll be back in the game in a few weeks.”

“I won’t lose my scholarship?”

“Nah, you’ll be fine.”

As the young quarterback limped toward the ambulance, the paramedics whispered to each other, “He’ll be feeling that knee every time it rains.”

“If he lives to be a hundred.”

Comments (0)     Bookmark: del.icio.usDiggreddit