Kid Boxer's dad was an alcoholic and sometimes when he was liquored up enough, or liquored up in just the right way, he would bestow upon Kid Boxer his hard-won, deeply questionable wisdom. Towards the end, Kid Boxer's dad was drinking a lot, so the advice was coming fast and furious.
One thing Kid Boxer's dad liked to expound upon was the idea of going down swinging. "Fuck those pricks. No matter what, you have to go down swinging. Nobody can fault a man for trying, as long as he went down swinging." It was all pretty much like this,...
There was blood on my pillow. A lot of blood. A ton of blood. Where did it come from? It seemed to be dripping from somewhere. I looked up. The celing was dry. I looked around, I felt my own face, hair, ears, nose...all dry. What the h*ll was going on? Then, I heard something. A step. Two steps. Steps moving across the wood floor near the staircase downstairs. Was this the source of the blood? Was it the cause of the blood? Am I next? I was not injured, but I was still terrifyed. Suddenly, something came bounding around...
Dear Mom,
Do you remember this picture? I do. I remember a lot about those days, when we were a family. Yesterday, I recreated this exact image with my daughter. Tess turned five on Tuesday. She's so excited to start school next month. I'm only scared that other kids will ask her about her family. I don't want to tell her that most of her family didn't want her. I don't want to tell her that Grandma and Grandpa wanted her to disappear.
I have no idea if this letter will make you love my daughter but I want you...
"It's simple," he said. "A simple plan for world domination. The Moon is the key. People need the Moon. So if we threaten to destroy the Moon, everyone in the world will have to do what we say."
This guy was ranting and raving. I sighed, and continued to humor him. "How the hell are you going to destroy the Moon? It's massive. Do you have any idea how massive it is?"
He waved his hands dismissively. "We don't even need all that much destructive power, just enough to produce a credible threat."
"Even if you had a credible threat,...
I saw the thing. It was preserved in the glass case, the only one of its kind. So faithfully had the curators touched it, applied the special fluids, made sure that never again, never again would it be forgotten. It had been once before, after all. After all, memory is a sieve. And this was memory itself. It shouldn't have been forgotten.
I can't remember the thing itself especially now. I suppose that's expected. My memory's not special in anyway, no, not at all. It doesn't matter, anyways, just that it was a record, so that people wouldn't forget, wouldn't...
Turning twice to see the darkness and the light, Keeley lost track of the zombie that had been running along behind her at surprising speed. Somehow he slipped in to the shadows as her light-blinded eyes took too long to adjust. No matter. Keep moving. She had to keep moving. She'd learned that early on. They were too slow to give chase. Except this one. Something about they way he moved led her to think that he was different. Faster, yes. But also more precise.
The bridge ahead of her looked empty. Still, she approached it warily, knowing that appearances...
I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "There'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead. I am out of food, out of electricity power for the radio, and abandonded in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. I do not know how or what happened that led up to the plane crash all I know is that I managed to survive two weeks on the scraps I found in the plane and a nearby pond. This is my last statement to the world if anyone finds this, I am going to travel north...
The moon was up and bright, I would hear the trees sing to it's glory and sight. I always wanted to go to the moon, and uncover it's mysteries that it holds. I walked down the street as I glance up still. "Oh moon so bright, where do you do after the night?" I didn't know much about the moon being only a small fairy but I like to dream big. I flapped my small wings like a humming bird and sit on top of a small branch of an old ancient tree. "A girl like me will never know...
The earthy smell of autumn leaves surrounded me and stimulated my senses. The crisp crunch of leaves was projected through the isolated valley as I gaped ahead at the distant disturbance. Harsh rustling and twigs snapping told me that this wasn't wind. This was a predator. My heart raced, its beats rapid and echoing through me. I tried to run but my legs were plastered to the ground, heavy as cement. And then I saw it.
You're forgetting what happened and remembering what didn't
I'm now your memory and have given up mine
When you're gone
Will that be a blessing or a curse?
I lash out in frustration
But the strike is soon forgotten
And I'm the one left wounded
Twice over
You forget what happened
And I remember for you
And in doing so
I have given up the last pure memory of childhood
I'd trade, you know
You take mine, I'll take yours
But I think you'd find my memory
A bitter thing
You forgot
I remembered
What happened?