a cure for the common block

Archive for the month “June, 2016”

The Dark and Bloody Ground

The keys of Deon’s typewriter clicked and clacked as he composed a new entry into his ongoing Splendid Isolation saga. It was a series of novels about an archipelago of misbegotten creatures – collectively referred to as hellions – vying for power; on the cusp of discovering the human world around them and vice-versa. It wasn’t until the third book – Disorder in the House – that the series attained mainstream success, but Deon never cared about the success of his books, he just loved to write and share his creativity with whomever found it. As a child he drew comics on notebook paper – folded the sheets and stapled them – giving them away to his friends and classmates, encouraging them to share and piece together the out-of-order adventure. He didn’t yet know when the series would end, but he wanted the pages leading up to the first human-hellion interaction to make the reader tremble with anticipation.

#ShortShortStories #TheDarkAndBloodyGround


New Life, Old Dragons

And just like that, Cass was reinvigorated. The conversation with his friend was brief – she was calling to let him know that she didn’t actually have time to talk – but hearing her calm voice soothed his nerves. He thought about her effect on his life over the past year, her strength and accomplishments motivated him to grow, to make something of himself. In college he took classes on metalsmithing, forge work, and blade-making, but never pursued it further due to his father’s insistence that it wouldn’t pay his bills or put food on his table. To his father’s credit, he could see the aptitude Cass showed for the craft and suggested he revisit it as a hobby after he found stable work to support himself. Geoffrey Lade – Cassidy’s father – tearfully took back his words when his mortgage was paid off with a check from his son’s online company “Lade’s Blades”.

#ShortShortStories #NewLifeOldDragons

Resurrection in Black and White

Charlie dabbed the quill in the inkwell and carefully filled out the the blank pages of the journal. It was salvaged from a chest that managed to keep it dry within the secret compartment of the captain’s wardrobe, and when her Squirrel handed it over Charlotte DuRay was so thrilled she almost kissed the gangly, bushy-haired young man. Charlotte was forging her masterpiece; or rather, the provenance for her masterpiece. She meticulously copied the manifest of a recently discovered shipwreck on the beach of a tiny island in Indonesia: port stops, crew, passengers, cargo, significant events. She left out no details throughout the dozens upon dozens of pages, while making one addition to the cargo in an otherwise unremarkable entry in December, 1781. It was the addition of a painting being delivered to a collector in London, “Le Petite Mort”, a 17th century oil on canvas of a young woman by a French artist. Disappeared before it could be photographed, it had been described as having a Vermeer-like quality of capturing light.

#ShortShortStories #ResurrectionInBlackAndWhite

Return to the 38th Parallel

Many strange assumptions were made by the Korean soldiers when they marched across the 38th parallel in Spring 2024. One soldier wore a helmet he was assured would protect him from the radiation leaking from inferior-quality microwave ovens, and Dae-Won Ru brought a modified transformer he had invented himself. His fears and misgivings about south Korea being as restrictive of electricity as the Free and Prosperous Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (FPDPRK) vanished within an hour of their deployment and he went AWOL. Whether by luck or fate, Dae-Won found a benefactor in an old man running an electronics shop where he tried to sell a battery he had invented. The old man examined the device – about the size of a pack of cigarettes – inquiring about the voltage. He skeptically obliged Dae-Won to find the parts necessary to form an adapter after he asked to see the shops generator. An hour later the lights of the shop dimmed until the power went out and Dae-Won apologized as he disconnected his device and reconnected the generator, explaining that he lacked the power in his home to give it a full charge. The shop owner almost fainted as he attempted to comprehend the technology required for such a power source.

#ShortShortStories #ReturnToThe38thParallel


The haole extended his thumb and little finger while curling his middle three and waved the shaka sign at Kawai. Behind his sunglasses Kawai rolled his eyes and pretended not to notice. The problem, he lamented, with living in a paradise with beautiful weather virtually year-round is the constant swarm of tourists. His friend Scott paddled in and carried his board to shore; he was a haole that moved to the Big Island a few years earlier, but was quickly accepted by the community. When he first arrived Scott only ever introduced himself as “SB” until someone finally asked what that stood for, to which Scott responded by lifting his shirt, slapping his very white beer belly and shouting “Shark Bait!” eliciting howling laughter from everyone in the bar. The waves were trash and they were going to give up when Kawai got a call from his Uncle Kai, who knew every secret surfing spot on the Island. For hours they surfed waves no higher than a couple of feet, but were by far the best either Scott or Kawai had surfed in years.

#ShortShortStories #Home

Over the Rainbow

The last thing the boy remembered was running across a field and suddenly falling down through the grass, finding himself in a distinctly different, brighter field. Blessed with a lack of worry, he resumed his charge until he came to an abrupt halt in front of an apple tree. The sight of the luscious fruit reminded his stomach that it was empty, stirring it to growl. The boy kicked off his shoes, hugged the tree, and shimmied up to a limb, plucking an apple and swinging back down to the ground. He reclined against the trunk he savored each bite while appreciating his surroundings when a young girl wearing a gown and a tiara approached with a quizzical look. Before he could introduce himself she commanded him to explain how he got there and if he knew the punishment for stealing royal apples. She scoffed at his claims of ignorance, but was suddenly intrigued by his profound confusion when she informed him that boys were not allowed in Princessland.

#ShortShortStories #OverTheRainbow #KidProQuo #TheBoyInPrincessland

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