Murder

Simone whacked Dexter with a broom until he dropped his cheeping treasure and slunk under the buffet. The cheeper was in rough shape–motionless for two hopeless minutes, then unable to do much beyond the occasional flutter. She searched for the means of its escape, in the end, grabbing a spatula and the real estate section of the Sunday paper.

One wing was askew, and one leg missing, leaving a small, black hole; still, she could not wring its neck. Instead, Simone placed it gently on the patio railing and turned away. She did not watch and wait, tail twitching.

Photo Credit: Matt Dale
Photo Credit: Matt Dale
Advertisements

Small Victories

Darlene took her time, reluctant to emerge and discover today’s torture.

Emily poked her head back through the locker room door. “Not bad, Dar. Just indoor soccer.”

Relief. She could run around, pretending to vie for the ball for 45 minutes. She walked across the gym floor and sat one over from her friend; Ms. Stevens always counted by twos when making teams.

Forty-three minutes in, Darlene looked up and froze. The ball veered toward her, struck her head forcefully, and accidentally flew toward the opposing team’s goal. Cheers. For her. And no one noticed her scrimmage vest was on sideways.

The Day After

Photo Credit: KFDL
Photo Credit: KFDL

How was it that life could bear to continue after the world had ended?
And yet, in the face of great tragedy, the question remained: “What’s for dinner?”

Equal parts numb and raw, Elaine meandered the aisles, staring at beans and milk and leeks and lettuce; seeing nothing.

A friendly clerk eyed her, asking, “And how are you today?”

“I’m—“ she began, but nothing more emerged. There was a reddening, a sudden wetness around the eyes.

“We are how we are on days like these,” he said–not unkindly–and he made his way back toward check stand five.

How to Survive the First Night in Hell

Photo Credit: www.ua2a.com
Photo Credit: http://www.ua2a.com

Turn off the TV.

After crying uncontrollably for an unspecified amount of time, sit down and talk with your kids about why we have three branches of government.

Pick something small that is annoying—like mismatched Tupperware, or a lost retainer–and throw all of your ire and frustration and hopelessness and devastation in that direction for a while, so you don’t have to think about the greater tragedy at hand.

Hug everyone you can find.

Have a glass of water and a sedative.

Contemplate the stars. Think of things that are true and good and will outlast this calamity.

 

(**Special thanks to Andi P.**)

Bad Day

Detective Maria Cortez and Officer Sean Wilkins arrived on the scene at 8:30 sharp—seventeen minutes after the call had come in—and were immediately overwhelmed by the foul smell.

Wilkins’s face fell.

“Is this what it’s like?” He fingered his shiny new badge and gave his ill-fitting pants a quick hike.

As they neared the body, Cortez let expletives drop, and Wilkins regretted becoming a cop. One hand swatted flies; one covered his nose.

Only somewhat hardened by experience, Cortez knelt to survey the desecrated corpse, blanched, and rose.

Wilkins vomited, then spit; at 8:33, tossed his badge, said, “I quit.”

How To Foster Kittens

gracita

  1. Feed them three times a day.
  2. Play with them—avoiding bloodshed when possible.
  3. Change litter frequently.
  4. Weigh them by any means necessary. Amateurs use patience and baby food. Pros pop them in shoeboxes, Tupperware, whatever.
  5. Administer oral antibiotics (see also: claws and teeth).
  6. Mop urine from a variety of surprising places.
  7. Scrub excrement off litter box, scoop, floor, toys, dishes, bedding, furnishings, and walls.
  8. Attempt to remove excrement from fur (see also: claws, teeth, fear of water).
  9. Love them anyway.
  10. Weep uncontrollably when required to return them to the shelter.

Beyond Bertie Bott’s: Jelly Beans That Will Never Be

Yep. That's what they call them in Oregon. Bad idea for a jelly bean flavor!  http://www.honeybucket.com
Yep. That’s what they call ’em in Oregon. Great name; bad idea for a jelly bean. From http://www.honeybucket.com

Thanks to J.K. Rowling…vomit, booger, sausage, and earwax-flavored jelly beans already exist. Having recently reread the Harry Potter books and visited the Jelly Belly Factory, I started wondering if there were flavors that could never be made into jelly beans. I know the box says “Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans,” but surely there are lines which cannot be crossed. Continue reading Beyond Bertie Bott’s: Jelly Beans That Will Never Be