Mixed Signals

Stanley is a little bit psychic.

Most of the time that’s annoying. On rare occasions I wish it was full on. Once in a while it comes in handy. Like when he sets you up on a blind date. But you can’t count on it.

“Dude! You’ve been down in the dumps since that last ho-bag dumped you.”

“Stan, first, we dated for months so a little respect. Second, it’s not very nice to say things like that about your sister.”

“She broke your heart and my mom’s not around… bitch. Point is I’ve got a winner for you on Valentines.”

“I admit you’ve had some wins but my worst dates have been your idea too.”

“Like?”

“Lisa…”

“Dude! What was wrong with her?”

“She was a werewolf, you set us up on the full moon.”

“Granted…” Stan doesn’t normally look sheepish. “This one though.”

I made him run down her traits for me, and translated along.

Well rounded – Fat

Nice personality – Butter-face

Passionate – Psycho

Comfortable with herself – Twenty cats

Great cook – Really fat

Demure – Religious whack job

Loves her family – Daddy issues

He sweetened the pot, he thought she was a hero. Capes and tights? No, classic Greco-Roman hero. I agreed, reluctantly.

Stan was to call me at nine thirty, if all was well I would give him the code phrase. If not I would claim an emergency.

You can imagine how surprised I was when I showed up and the girl was gorgeous. I mean like Bridgette Bardot had lesbian sex with your favorite questionable actress and somehow had a baby who was voiced by Mae West beautiful. She smelled like roses, not like the crappy floral perfume your grandma wore too much of but like she rolled in petals until they bruised then came to meet me. Best of all? We hit it off instantly.

I almost didn’t answer the call when it came. Then, I picked it up and gave the code phrase, that’s taken care of. Stan’s response child me to the bone.

“No, dude, there’s a real emergency. She’s about to go crazy bitch on you. I don’t know what’s going to set her off, but you’re in danger.”

I looked at this lovely flower just in time to see her pulling a bow from her purse. She knocked a heart tipped arrows and I knew who’s daughter she was. Just a moment before she had been laughing and pleasant, now she glared at me with the wrath of… well… a god. Her voice was locked in a glacier.

“Let me guess, you have to go? I really liked you too. Why do men have to have the escape route and not just say, ‘this isn’t working’?”

“No…”

Too late. She launched the love arrow at me. My last free thought was more terrifying than it should have been. I wondered what that arrow would do to someone already in love with the woman he was looking at.

Then all I had was hers.

#shortstory #love #magic #mythology #author #writer

It's Christmas Time in America Again

So this one is way outside of my normal comfort zone, but it wanted to be written.

Amidst chill air and deafening silence I roamed my empty house. The tips of my fingers traced worn wooden backs of benches ready to seat my friends and family. In years before they were packed, filling my home with warmth, love, and voices raised in celebration of the season. This year I was alone.

Each of my intended attendees had reasons to explain their absence. Each piercing excuse, being forgotten and abandoned, filled me with sorrow. Was it worth putting myself out there for people who would so quickly abandon love for simple pleasures? To have one turn away in your moment of need is painful. To have all do the same at your moment of joy is excruciating. Why would they do it? There was only one way to know.

Soft snow drifted lazily to concrete as I stepped bare footed onto the street. Roads which once would have been empty on Christmas morning were only moderately quiet. Neon burned the early morning, inviting all to exchange unwanted gifts for mind numbing desires. Restaurants beseeched travelers to step in for an overpriced meal. Gone were the days when the only cuisine to be found on the holiday was of Chinese origin. Gone were the times when the only entertainment available was the moving picture shows. Such was the march of progress.

The chill in my house was nothing compared to the stabbing cold of knife edged wind cutting through my thin clothing. Soon I happened upon a house belonging to one of my family. Seeking comfort and joy I stepped inside.

“I bring the presents I offer every day of every year.”

I spoke but none listened. They looked through me without seeing. Exchanging store bought gifts and plastic smiles they passed the time with empty love and hollow promises to spend more time with each other. All the while they drank to excess to make the excursion tolerable while dreaming of high production video games and internet distractions they were missing out on. How many minutes of this day off were being wasted on family and celebrations nobody believed in anymore?

Try as I might none of them would look at me, none of them saw. Father, why have they forsaken me? I thought as I tired of tarrying where I was unwanted. On my way to the door I realized it was not all of them. The matron of the clan, a woman approaching a century and a small child not yet school aged would look at me and smile. Their eyes said happy birthday and their hearts nearly screamed it. I delayed my exit to kiss them on the forehead and pray the hearts of the others would open. Upon those two I bestowed my gifts; peace, love, and tranquility.

Exiting the home I witnessed others in the same predicament as me. The turbaned inheritor of my legacy walked arm in arm with my desert wandering forefather. With them was the elephant headed one from foreign lands. Like me they were unseen, even this time of year, but they walked with a purpose so I followed.

The air grew warmer as we approached a rundown part of town. I joined my fellows and we looked upon a line of destitute men awaiting a warm meal, hoping there would be enough. Moving amongst the dirty and disheveled were others, not much better off. These shepherds passed out steaming cups of coffee and cocoa. Others imparted blankets they could ill afford to part with to make life a little more bearable. None here were wealthy and yet from their hearts they began to sing the songs of joy that once filled my house.

I remembered why the trials were worth it. We all knew that amongst the forgotten and the cast offs we had family that would never abandon us. They had no internet to get home to, no home to get internet to. Yet they had room in their hearts for us, more importantly for each other.

Looking to my brothers an unspoken truth passed between us. There were so many with so little. There would never be enough thin soup to feed them all. Yet these ones did not give up on hope and love. There was only one thing for it, one gift left to give. I smiled to the others, warm for the first time that day as I spoke.

“I once did this trick with fish and bread. Let us work together and see how it works on soup.”

#shortstory #author #christmas #commentary #mythology #religion #socialcommentary #writer

Anarchy North Pole

I slumbered mightily the sleep of the just

From pleasant dreams I was suddenly thrust

‘Something’s amiss’ my mind it did natter

Roused from my rest by the sound of blood splatter

With candy cane bat brought quickly to hand

I crept through the dark, wondering ‘What’s wrong in my land?’

Once in the workshop I scanned quickly the shelves

When what should I see, but Donner disemboweling elves

Always had Donner been such a magnificent stallion

I wondered when his accent had become so Italian

My naughty list grew longer, I realized with fear

Then the sound of violently scratching vinyl on phonograph struck my ear

“Look fat man, you can stop with the rhyme. It won’t save your ass this time.”

“Donner! What are you doing? Have I not been good to you?”

“It’s Donnie now, you self aggrandizing prick! Good to me? You’ve barely noticed us since that red nosed bastard showed up. At first we thought, give it time, the boss will love us all again. It’s been near a century and you still treat him better because he brings you more advertising.”

“I have done no such thing! You are punishing the nice children of the world, slaughtering innocent elves, and out of the pen after curfew. I do not even know what to do with you.”

“Look fatso, there are no nice kids left in this day and age. You’re rewarding vice and consumerism. These innocent elves are the managers that run your sweat shop; I haven’t touched the rank and file that you pay three gumdrops a day, well below the minimum. But that’s not the point. We unionized six months ago and you ignored our demands. You probably didn’t know about that since you were ‘too busy’ to read the letter.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m out of here you velvet clad Nancy boy. I took a job with Don Giovanni working in Jersey. He’s a heartless tyrant too, but he don’t pretend otherwise.”

“I can work the sleigh with only eight. You can expect to be on the naughty list for the rest of your life.”

“Now see… that won’t work and let me tell you why. The other originals are gone too; they just don’t have the balls to tell you thanks to that ‘fun car trip’ you took us on. Dasher is representing France in the five k dash come summer Olympics. Dancer’s going back to the pole in club in Tijuana. Prancer accepted a job running a nonprofit fighting for LGBT rights. I told him it was a bit on the nose, but you know that guy. Vixen made a deal and starts succubus training week after Monday. Comet just signed on to play for some pro basketball team. Cupid is going back to work for his old bosses. They have a better package and give him Christmas off so long as he works Valentine’s day. Blitzen, well you know how that kid is. He couldn’t find a job so he shaved his head and is moving to Idaho to live in a bunker with some likeminded individuals he found on the internet.”

“So all of you feel this way? No matter! I will make do with Rudolph alone.”

“Funny you should mention that. We figured you might think that way and didn’t want you to have that option. So we offed the spoiled little shit. It’s funny what exotic meat shops in Texas will pay for reindeer steaks and sausages this time of year.”

“You are heartless and evil. I’m ruined.”

“Well not necessarily.  We figure you can still make it if you teach the missus how to fly and have her pull the sleigh for you. We suggest you put a wide load sign on the back if you go that route. Anyway, it has been imaginary, see you never fat ass.”

#shortstory #comedy #dark #mythology #writer #author #christmas

The Succubus

So Old Odd Ends has one of the main characters as a variation on the succubus. I got to thinking... what the hell? Why are we so obsessed with them. For a historical reference you can look here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Succubus

So they started out monstrous and gross. Over time they got sexy as hell. They are a demon that even in religions that say all demons are fallen angels they were once human. Conflicting much?

I know many people who love angels and demons in their art. I know even more who think of the succubus when they think of demons. Why the obsession? Is it just the association with sex? Is there something more?

I am seriously asking here. I love them, love using them in my writing and I am not completely sure where my obsession comes from. Normally with angels and demons I prefer to stick to the traditional. Angels are angels and were never humans, demons are fallen angels not the souls of the damned. Yet, while I will fudge this in my writing, all information says these were humans not angels. So this is an oddity to me.

Succubi, why do we love them? Why do you love them? Sound off! Do it now!







#commentary #hello #magic #thoughts #villainess #writer #writing #succubus #demons #mythology #religion