Everyone tries to be funny and make jokes about the magic beans. "Trade a cow? How about my wife?" they say. But magic beans, and the vines that grow from them? That's no laughing matter, and my garden is a mess.
You ever known a weed to go away by cutting it down? No of course not, you cut the weed, and it will just grow back. You have to pull the thing out by the roots if you're going to have any hope of getting rid of the thing, and even then it's usually back in a week. Well,...
I was at home with my wife when we heard the noise start. At first just quiet thumps. Then louder and louder. I had her hide in her room, the door locked.
I grabbed my axe. By then I could smell something off. Something rancid and foul. I shouted, warning the intruder. This was my home and no robber or murder was going to violate it like this.
I tore through the house, screaming for him. No sign of him. And the noise had stopped. The kitchen was empty. The hall was empty. I ran back to our bedroom. The...
Lost in an amusement park, it slowly dawned on Mack that he was the luckiest child in the world--complete and total freedom from parental tyranny. He already planned on eating cotton candy for every meal. He would live in the storybook house near the magic beanstalk. No more homework, room cleaning, vegetable eating; it was a dream come true.
Mack made a beeline to the first ride on his agenda: The Serpent. This sleek steel coaster boasted six inversions, and a stomach-flipping double-dip that made him actually squeal with glee. He stepped into the queue, and awaited his turn.
The...
Joey stood sucking on his wine gums. Lime was his favourite, tart and bitter; made him think of summertime grass and his turtle Matlin. Today was supposed to be a fun day; his Mum had brought him to the theme park. He 'love' it she had said. He wasn't so sure. So far he didn't like it but he was trying to pretend. Otherwise Mum would be sad again, and she'd been so sad lately. And angry. She was angry at Daddy because Daddy couldn't come to the theme park. Joey didn't mind though as Daddy had given him two...
When it started growing, it really started growing. Guisseppe spotted it one morning as he rolled his fruit cart into the market, a strange, brilliantly green shoot pushing its way up through the cobblestones, defiantly pointing towards the sky. The next morning it had doubled in size. Guisseppe had tried to pull it up, but it stubbornly clung to ground, remaining entrenched in the stones at the edge of the market.
Over the next several days, it shot up several stories, its thick green trunk bursting through the ground, its flat broad leaves opening and gathering in the sun. No...
I couldn't sleep with her next to me.
It's one thing to want to be a bigger man. It's completely different to assume that you are.
My life thus far, untainted by ill temper, prejudice, greed, even religion, had ensconsed me, rolled me out to greet the world. I was the man who fought for the powerless, from the playground to the courtroom. I was the man on the covers of the local newspaper, the man who shocked the nation when my pale hand, wrapped in the dark grip of a powerless woman was held aloft.
I would die for...
Look, I admit, I'm at least partly responsible for the situation. It's my fault I'M here, and not his, er, mine.
The pronouns can get really confusing, so maybe I should just back up. It's not easy being a clone, or, shall I say a time-displaced duplicate of him. I mean, of myself (see?). The accident happened a while ago, really long enough for him, the other me, to get used to it. We both decided that we'd stay in the same house and have the same life; he owed me that much, for saving his (my) life.
I DON'T...
Her breath rose from her body in swirls of ash. The air wheezed from her as you would expect the air would travel through a burnt husk of a body. Each night she burned, crumbling into herself, waking in a bright fury with the morning sun. Some called her a phoenix, a goddess of the volcano, Pelée.
I was a lowly stream, trembling, trickling in her wake. The heat of her caused my innards to boil, and the creatures would leave me. The earth heaved with her breath, the tumbling rocks rolling, the sparks floating away with the grace of...
I couldn't sleep with her next to me. The window was wide open, and there was something resembling a breeze rustling in through it, but the bedroom was stifling, and I could feel every molecule of my skin bonding inextricably with hers. I peeled myself away painfully, and she bristled.
"Where are you going?"
"Babe, it's hot. Really. I'm gonna go sleep on the couch."
"What's wrong with me? Why can't you just sleep on the other side of the bed?"
"There is no other side of the bed. There's no space to do anything but cuddle, and I can't...
When the colors first started disappearing, no one noticed. After all, the first to go was chartreuse, and no one ever used chartreuse. Almost no one even knew what chartreuse was, most people thought it was a purplish-red color anyway.
So when a few bottles of French liqueur went grey, no one could tell, it might have been a trick of the light and the glass. A particularly terrible shade of salmon, popular for a brief period in the mid-40s was next to go. But most examples of that were already buried beneath years of garbage, or hidden behind five...