Once there was a beautiful kingdom with a wise ruler, a red wolf demon. He was cunning and strong, and loved long. During an especially daunting hunt, chasing a herd of water buffalo, he was joined by a pack of ordinary wolves, gray and black and brown. They all enjoyed the feast that hunting together had brought them, and in the celebrations, he met the most beautiful she-wolf he had ever laid eyes on. Her fur was gray, with that glossy sort of sheen you only see in the mornings of the reddest of sunrises, a color that rivaled his...

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The lone zombie shambled toward the clubhouse, where we watched, armed with nine irons and pitching wedges. I turned to Adam and said, "Par three, buddy."

"You're on, Sev," Adam replied, and grabbed a bucket of balls, ran out to the porch, and teed up.

His swing was a bit off, and he hooked it, but the ball stayed on the fairway. Not bad, considering the threat of gruesome zombie death that potentially loomed.

"Okay, this time I got him!" Adam shouted, and teed up another ball.

This time, his shot was picture-perfect, and the ball whizzed through the air,...

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Giving in wasn't an option anymore because I had given in too many times before.
I'd taken it time after time - too many times before, and this has me broken. I'm broken, broken from you.
You've simply abused me, in the finer way. The finer way where not all the cracks show, in the way that I can hold them in so that they are only something I know. In the way that only I will know when I see you again, and the cracks come stabbing on like a nightmare.
Now when you're feeling down, I won't risk...

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They were back again. The Crasoons. And this time she was ready. Ever since they'd laid waste to her town, reducing it to wilderness in a matter of weeks, carrying off the wreckage with their dreadful claws, she had been planning. The white noise in her headphones would drown out their hypnotizing cries. She wouldn't go on a killing spree, no matter what the benign-looking destroyers told her. She was here for one purpose, the purpose she'd been training for for a year and a half: The destruction of the Crasoons. Her red shirt would lure them. And once they...

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He set the plate before her. She forced a smile, painted lips curving upwards to reveal tips of white teeth. This was his proposal, the setting down of that plate. If she refused to eat, she could leave whenever she wanted without fuss. If she chose to taste of his food, then his actions would be without consequence.

"Are you going to eat?" He asked, sitting down opposite her and picking up his wine glass by the stem with long fingers.
"Are you not?" She replies, voice quiet and on the point of breaking over every sound.
"This is for...

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The sound reverberated through the streets. It was as inevitable as an old man passing gas. The sound of children of all ages gnashing their teeth as the electricity that powered their individualized false realities went out.

The modest city had been the birthplace of televitality, and was therefore the first to experience what was optimistically known as "progressive population decline." With the ability to meet perfect friends, perfect mates and raise perfect children in through completely realistic virtual interface few people felt the impulse to have actual families.

Most people also worked artificially, their movements on the elestairs and...

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Knives. Where were the knives? she thought to herself, getting more aggravated by the second. There were plenty of forks. If she needed a fork, or even a spoon, there were loads. The drawer was overflowing with cutlery of all kinds, excpet for knives.
She could hardly cut the ham with a spoon, gouging chunks out of it. Sighing, she tried to count to ten, calmly. This is what her therapist talked her through. Stand still, breath deeply and count. One...two...three...But, where were all the knives?
They had been there at some point. The cutlery had been bought in a...

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This is the doctor sewing the corpse
They kept  locked up with the crowd in the morgue
That wicked Judas Priest all shaven and shorn
That harried the Dick all battered and worn
That missed the murderer all forlorn
Who sicked the cow with the crumpled skin
That lost the dog that woke the cat burglar
That nicked the hat then took the wallet
That lay on the louse that Jack killed

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The train in which Natalie happened to sit
Was the train that another train managed to hit
The noise was quite loud,
And in the tracks were a crowd
To which the conductor exclaimed, "holy shit!"

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We stared out the attic window of the 3-story blue colonial. It was New Year's Eve; we all survived the hype of the Millenium, and now one year later we were wrapped in each other's arms watching the snow fall. I came upstairs to change my shirt after Pat spilled his champagne on me. I rifled through my suitcase as you ran upstairs after me, worried that I was upset. You said my name and I looked up with wide eyes, so in love with you. Staring at your ice blue eyes, I wondered how I got here, I mean,...

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