Incessant.Yip, Yap, Yip, Yip, Yap, Yip.Such a loud bark for such a little dog. The town crier finished his speech and dove under flipping up dirt with his tail. He popped back again for another retort. Yip, Yip, Yip. I had been warned. The small hill of prairie dogs spread out over two acres in the middle of town walled off from the children climbing on the stonewall. The dogs didn’t like visitors. Especially, ones…
Luminescence in the crystals made them shine when his brother extingished the light. An eerie light show flooded the cave.
She was aware of its presense. It’s eye never waivered. She felt it’s breath. It’s foul stench wafted to her nose. She rushed to the edge and hid under a leaf. Trembling, she waited for it to plunge and dared not exhale.
I suffered a stroke on July 15, 2015. One eye was bigger than the other and I was paralyzed in an altering pattern; my left face was numb, my right arm was numb, and my left leg was numb. Not the usual pattern for a stroke. Yay, me. Always having to be different.
Jake Rutledge and the Guy With Bad Timing (Fantasy Novelette): Jake Rutledge and the Guy With Bad Timing – Part Nine (Fantasy Novelette)
Trash and debris covered the floor leading to the lab. Nurses, guards, and other people covered in blood and gashes poured out of rooms lining the hall. We stumbled passed them and ran toward the center of destruction. We turned a corner. I noted a considerable rip running through the center of the lab like a giant claw hammer had torn through the building. Pieces of paper, debris, and insulation floated where the ceiling used…
Waslken pointed the pod toward a bright spot on the blue marble and rode the adrenaline rush as the planet’s atmosphere burned off bumpy mollusks clinging to his spaceship. The ship emerged shiny and clean cruising into a dusky sky opposite the glow of space. He recalibrated his descent and selected a dark spot away from the city lights.
Jake Rutledge and the Guy With Bad Timing (Fantasy Novelette): Jake Rutledge and the Guy With Bad Timing – Part Eight
That’s when I recognized it. They dressed Dan in a pure white cloth suit covering up a series of tubes, wires, and circuits. He wasn’t my brother! He was just an android made to resemble him. “Why does he look like Dan?” I roared at the colonel. “He was a good as anyone,” Colonel Cox answered. “We needed a face of a person already dead. It didn’t matter who. Your brother popped up.” In fact,…
He was a big fish in this little pond of 6,000, the smallest television news market in America. When he went out, people swarmed and begged for an autograph.
Besides being known by the women of Glendive for his smile, wink, and perfectly combed hair, he was known by the men as the crazy dude who was always running around poking his nose into the reasons behind cattle stench, house fires, bar fights, and rodeo bareback events.
The young lass Weathersby,
Reared a rake lecher
The boy gained infamy,
As a cruel corrupter
Each conniving victory,
Sent his renown farther
‘Til the repeated story,
Hit the ears of a roamer
She vowed utter destruction,
To get his goat superbly
Leaving the boy’s seduction,
An act even he would decry