Pressed Opened

Pressed Opened
I was cold all the time. When I slept, it was with my back in the corner, my legs tucked under me. I woke often to the furious shaking of my body.

It took me three days to learn how to build a fire. Sickly and small, I fed it the thin blue twigs I found on the forest floor.

At night, snuffling creatures would snarl and bump at the door and I would scream nonsensically, howling and growling with a garden spade in my hand.

In the daylight I would forage. Nothing was familiar but I learned the bitter yellow berries were safe to eat while the red nuts that smelled like cinnamon made me sick with fever and swelling. The small purple berry on the pink-leafed bush was a hallucinogent of sort and I hoarded those jealously.

I set traps daily. The last of my twine was used to set snares against the trees. I dug holes and placed sharpened sticks in them, hoping the bits I remembered from camping and TV would coalesce into a meal. Continue reading

United Harmony – Part I

United Harmony – Part I

I poured another drink to the guy with four eyes and a sharp beaked mouth. My bar was in the middle of nowhere on a nothing planet but it always managed to stay full. Might’ve been my exotic drinks, but I suspect it was more because of my allergic reaction to the law – they make my trigger finger itch.
Speaking of the devil, two silver robotics stomped into my bar. They were the avian kind, two spindly feet attached to a wide round base. They looked like big, metal ducks – with gun turrets for beaks.
“Siri”, I hissed to the air, “why didn’t you notify me?” My gun on my hip whirred to life, “I told her to warn you but she said you would overreact. And I said, hey, sometimes one got to issue a little preemptive action, you know what I mean? And she said, this would be a good opportunity for you to learn restraint.” I slapped my gun to silent mode and glared at one of my bar’s cameras.
“I’m going to update you as soon as this is over, enough with this nostalgia tech shit.” Continue reading

Dead Dreams

Dead Dreams

When I dream I dream of deserts. Dry dead wastelands, scuttling beetles scraping on molted gray trees.

When I dream I dream of despair.
Deserted cityscapes, angry red skies pierced by jagged metal peaks. Diseased red-eyed rodents, emboldened, angry, formidable.

When I dream I dream of death. Continue reading

The Conversation


The Conversation
“So, we’re immortal now.”

“Yep”, he said, eyes glued to his video game.

“We’re never gonna die, or get sick or nothin’”, I said as I stood slightly in front of my boyfriend with my arms crossed.

He angled his head around me. “Yeah, dude. It was all over the news. I get it.”
Continue reading