Michele Archives

August 14, 2007

Michele: Extermination

"You know what we do with people like you?"
"I'm not an...."
The creature pushed me against the wall.
"I know what you are, earthling."

His breath stunk. I turned my head. He wrenched my neck back toward him.
"Where are you from, human?"
I pulled out my fake ID.
"Mergon. Galaxy 145."

The creature examined it. It was real enough to make him think twice about killing me. Mergon was under protection.

He spit on me and walked away.

I didn't feel relief. Just a great shame at denying everything I was to stay alive maybe one more day.

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August 28, 2007

Michele: Between the Lines

Jim listened attentively and relayed the words to his wife.

"She's at Emmas."

"Emma's parents are home."

"They are making popcorn and watching an Air Bud marathon."

Jim hung up, content. His wife glared at him.

"Give me the phone."
She dialed their daughter's cell and spoke to her rapidly, through clenched teeth, with a tone that meant business.

"She's at that whore Haley's house."

"They are drinking beer."

"And watching Slut Bus volumes 1-5."

Jim gasped. "What? How the hell did you do that? What happened to Emma? What...."

She dangled the car keys.

"I'll go get her."

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September 6, 2007

Michele: I Left My Heart On Your Nightstand

I woke up with a familiar feeling. Bad familiar. I was groggy, depressed and I didn't give a shit about much. It'd been a while since I felt like that. What happened last night to make me feel...


My heart.

Where did I go last night? Some bar. Some chick. Her place....


I dragged myself out of bed and went to her apartment. She answered the door, looking less attractive than she did when I was drunk.

"I think I might have left something...."

"Traded it in for some meth. Sorry, Tinman."

Shit. The wizard's gonna be pissed.

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September 17, 2007

Michele - It's All Gone To The Dogs

He fed me, walked me, ran in the park with me. He gave me baths, combed my fur and comforted me. He waited for me to pounce on him after school and he wouldn't go to sleep until I got settled on the foot of his bed.

I wanted to join the other dogs, but my master - no, my best friend - was staring at me, not in an "mmmm....brains" way, but...pleading.

So I did what any best friend would do.

I nuzzled my neck up to his mouth and let him bite.

Friends in life, friends in living death.

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October 9, 2007

Michele: Somewhere Out There

"You shouldn't carry her."

"I can’t leave her body out there for..." he searched futilely for the right word. "..those....things?"

"You can't keep carrying her."

"The hell I can't."

"We've been walking three hours and still haven’t found a safe place."

The man stopped, laid the girl's body down. Her legs torn, her face bloated, her hands gone, she still looked very much like a little girl.

Something stirred in the bushes. An almost human growl could be heard.

"It wants her body."

The boy listened to the growl and picked up the girl’s body. “Let’s keep walking, dad.”

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October 12, 2007

Michele: Body Count

Jack walked out to the porch and found Dexter sprawled out, sleeping in a swatch of sun as if he had nothing to do with the four bodies in the basement. A wide swath of evidence on the porch belied Dexter’s innocent sleep.

Jack went to the basement with a shovel and a bag, intent on disposing of the bodies before the Mrs. got home, like he always did. It’s what you do for those you love.

He heard noises upstairs; a struggle, a squawk and triumphant meow.

Jack sighed, resigned. “Looks like Dexter is going for a record today.”

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October 16, 2007

Michele: Delay

His flight is delayed an hour.

One more hour of peace. One more hour of not being one insult away from tears.

I walk the concourse and enjoy the silence of this small airport. Soon I’m standing in front of the Southwest terminal looking at the departures, the same place I always end up when I’m retrieving Brad from a trip.

Portland. Home. Something stirs in me, like always.

This time the stirring is stronger.

Without looking back at Brad’s terminal, I purchase a one way ticket to Portland.

He’ll be mad.

But his anger is no longer my problem.

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October 17, 2007

Michele: A Working Dinner

“I know it’s Friday, Rebecca. But I need to go to work.”
“You promised me a picnic.”
“I didn’t know then that I’d be called in.”
“Find a way to make it happen. Or else.”
“Is that an ultimatum?”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure sounds like it, genius.”
“Fine. We’ll have a picnic at my work.”
“At the cemetery??”
“Would you prefer I lose my job?”
“Yes. It’s disgusting.”

Still, she agreed to meet him, which worked out nicely.

He looked in his shed for a tarp and plastic gloves, thinking how wonderful it is when wants and needs collide.

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October 22, 2007

Michele: Forward

Saturday. 11:45. I'm supposed to be on the road. It takes me forever to load the last of my belongings in the truck.

Noon. I take one last look at my apartment and I almost panic. Then I remember the way his hand feels in mine, his smell, how he feels next to me.

12:15. I hit the road and everything I have ever known fades behind me in my rear view mirror. I look back a couple of times and hesitate. I stop at the last light in my town, hang his picture on my visor and look forward.

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October 24, 2007

Michele: Poetry In Motion

“I want her.”
“That’s Delores. She’s married.”
“I don’t care. I want to bang her.”
“Like I said….”
“That never stopped me before.”
“Write me a poem.”
“You’re good with poetry shit. I’ll buy her a drink and send a poem with it.”
“Dude, she’s really married.”
“And I’m really horny.”
“Whatever.” He grabbed a napkin, scribbled some words on it and handed it to the bartender. They waited for Delores’s reaction.
“What did you write, anyhow?”
“I want to bang you hard, Delores.
You hair is like fire, your tits are ginormous.”

He smiled and walked out.

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