Tagged: words

Storytime Saturday, featuring an excerpt from an unnamed short story.

Here’s a snippet from an upcoming short story. Thanks for reading.

The day that my potato exploded in the microwave was an eye opener. It was a sign…an omen. A message from the powers that be. Maybe I’d nuked that fucker for too long, or maybe I just didn’t give a shit. Either way, that little vegetable bastard decided to commit culinary suicide and blew itself spud first all over the confines of the microwave with a mere five seconds left. I mean, c’mon…it couldn’t have kept its composure for a measly five more seconds? Suck it up, god damn it! I had no money left, I had no lunch, and I was hungry enough to eat the scum out of the bottom of a homeless man’s shoes. It was definitely a sign…an omen…a message from the powers that be.

Advertisements

Library Lusting.

This week’s space conjures up a tropical vibe, and I’d say that it’s more than just the addition of the potted plant that contributes to that ambiance. It could be just me, but I’m reminded of a warm, sunlit terrace on a summer afternoon…surrounded by an ocean of books. It’s a great space, with a few clever parallels; the heavy, rustic elements play very well alongside the fragility of the books, and the sunlight adds a splash of color that gives life to the dense, cold stone. It’s a nice, tidy, quiet space to sit alone and collect the thoughts. This is indeed a book lover’s room…let the daydreams commence.

Storytime Saturday, featuring an excerpt from an as yet untitled piece.

This is intended to be a tale of growth, understanding, and redemption…below is just a snippet.  Check it out if you’d like.  Best of days to all.



I wasn’t worth a damn on paper. In the paper world, the document world, the world of resumes and economic status, I was fucking worthless. Bullshit administrative work here, run of the mill labor there, hum drum office experience way over there…hell, my resume was less than toilet paper. Looking at that bad boy made me question everything. Is this what it had come to? Is this what all the years of busting my ass have amounted to? Jack shit? I may as well have been anonymous. Just another warm body to feed the greedy corporate carnivores. A chalkboard whose teachings had long since been scrubbed clean. 

But clean slates can still educate, right? They can still learn. Clean slates still hold value, however anonymous they are…they can still speak of success. I had to remind myself of that. But I was never successful at anything. Well, failing…I was very good at that. I was successful at failing. Hell, at fucking shit up, I was a professional. The best. I could turn a nugget of gold into a fistful of shit at the drop of a dime. All in a day’s work.