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March 7, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
He was aware of the vultures circling above him, as he dug into the sand beneath the joshua tree. Ironically, they were interested in him, and not the bundle that he was burying. When he hit tree roots, he burrowed between them, and tucked the cotton-shrouded parcel into the niche, bending to kiss it one last time before covering it.
The vultures dropped lower as he stumbled away, delirious. He’d run out of water nearly two hours ago. Yet he sketched a map to this site, before his eyesight faltered. Such a massive desert, such a tiny packet of diamonds.
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March 8, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
The bank customers ducked and hid as shots rang out, and the alarm began to wail.
“This is a rob…”
The gunman didn’t even get the words out before he was kicked in the head, then punched in the stomach. The hostages cheered. The day would be saved!
Pow! The hoodlum by the vault was felled by a kick!
Conk! The two men by the tellers had their heads smashed together!
The would-be bank robbers begged for their lives, as the brave crime-fighters collected their weapons and called the police.
“Good job, Ginger.”
“All in a day’s work, Sporty.”
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March 9, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
There was something wrong. I knew it the very instant I walked through the door. Something was out of place, offset in my own house. I couldn’t see the change, but it was there. I’d find it.
Checking for scuffs in the dust, unfamiliar trash in the bin, a rocking chair that still held a hint of movement. Nothing. It was like looking for invisible footprints, simply because you heard an echo of a step. I could sense it. So close.
Finally, in the kitchen, there it was.
“Mother! Stop rearranging my cabinets! The glasses go next to the fridge!”
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March 12, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
“The workmen will be here at 7am.” I read the note, bleary-eyed, as I poured my first cup.
“p.s. We’re out of milk.”
Dammit. I dumped the coffee in the sink and opened a can of Mountain Dew. It was putridly warm, and I opened the freezer to see three empty ice trays. Goddammit. The soda followed the coffee into the sink.
I looked up to see one of the workmen at the window, and pulled my robe tighter. Bastard.
“What the fuck are you looking at?!”
He smiled and held up two creamers from McDonalds. This day’s looking up.
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March 14, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
“It was Marco’s idea that we should roller skate. I said he was crazy, so he took the skates and I stayed on my feet. We both had our little red neckties. We rushed through the streets, in a mass of men, followed by a loud trampling that made our bones rattle as much as our nerves and the road.
“Finally, as I knew they would, Marco’s skates failed him, and he fell. I couldn’t let him be trampled, so I bent down to help him over a fence.
“And that’s how I got the horn in my backside, Doctor.”
Yes, I know it's running of the bulls, not with the bulls. Just go with it.
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March 19, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
Tommy and the other local boys came to get her at the orphanage, calling to her quietly in the early morning stillness, “C’mon Jeanie, come out.”
She snuck out by the rickety bathroom window, sliding down Miss Margaret’s prized rose trellis, and they ran laughing into the woods.
They didn’t like her the same way they liked Mary and Joy; she knew she wasn’t pretty. But she could do something they couldn’t do.
She took the rifle from Tommy and beat all their shots.
“Gosh. You’re the best, Jeanie.”
“Shut up and get me another whiskey bottle, Tommy,” she grinned.
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March 20, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
“I know Dr Diggs told you that the earlier transplant was the only possibility,” the doctor told his new patient. “However, we no longer believe that your artificial heart is the best option.”
Nick stared at him, amazed.
“Transplanting a real heart will be much healthier for you. It won’t grow back your missing extremities, obviously. But grafting donor limbs later will be easier with the improved bloodflow.”
The patient rubbed his cold, damaged arms – the scars of a long-ago curse.
“Let’s do it, Doc. And if my surgery is successful, you can try it on Emperor Scarecrow’s brain, next.”
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March 21, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
I don’t know quite when it started, but it’s been going on for at least nine years. When he balances the books, he moves part of the money to an account that doesn’t exist. Not a lot. Just enough that I finally noticed.
I’ve been here too long to tell his secret to anyone. I know too much. I’d be charged with abetting or something. And anyway, he’s a friend.
I spend sleepless nights telling myself that I should call the cops. Knowing that I won’t do it.
But I’ll bet I can convince him to give me a cut.
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March 22, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
Are you finding that you have less energy? Less stamina? Are you sleeping more and more? Laughing less? No longer really enjoying your life?
Do you no longer dance in the kitchen? Sold the trampoline and leave the pool covered all year long? Rather work Saturday than drive to the beach?
Have the pink hippos with wiggly ears left your life? Missing your little pet dragon Floyd, and your best invisible friend? You can’t even fly anymore?
Ask your doctor about Ridiculum.
Ridiculum is not for everyone. Side effects may include dizziness, dry mouth, vomiting, diarrhea, fainting, stroke, and death.
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March 23, 2007
Tanya: Untitled
Karl wolfed down his lunch, sitting on the back steps of his office, overlooking the alley. Choked down the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, washed it down with milk, and then rushed back to work.
His unfinished business lay before him. So much to do and not enough hours in the day. He checked them over, deciding how to proceed.
Three in a car crash. Drowning. Electrocution. Some accident involving a barbed wire fence, a rope, and a skateboard. Two stabbings, unrelated.
Karl sighed, and stepped up to the third table. No one has deadlines like a mortician has deadlines.
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