Tagged: skull

I Stand in the Rain

  • by jencan’t you hear the thunder?
  • “You shut up!”
  • one gold, one black
  • brown skin and a flat skull
  • Leonard is a strange person

I stand in the rain, gazing at the man beside me. Leonard is a strange person, but undeniably attractive. His eyes entrance me, one gold, one black, nestled in brown skin and a flat skull like faberge eggs in an ornate display case.

I try to tell him I love him, but he leans in close. “Can’t you hear the thunder?” he whispers in my ear, making me shiver. “That rumbling is Zeus’s way of saying ‘You shut up!’ to us mortals.”

I try once more to speak. Leonard’s ornately colored eyes hold mine and he lays his finger across my lips. “Shhh,” he breathes, “you don’t want to anger Zeus.”

And he’s right. I don’t. I lean in and press my lips to his just as a bright bolt of lightning illuminates the sky.

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“And That’s How I Came To Write The Flying Nun”

  • by jenmuttering they strolled
  • well, he looked obscene
  • came to write The Flying Nun
  • only a naked young girl lying spread-eagled
  • raging in his aged skull
  • I know you’re part Indian!
  • editor of this lunatic volume

“And that’s how I came to write The Flying Nun for half a season,” Devlin du Mauvais said, then added, “They fired me for obscenity.”

“Obscenity?” asked Delight. “Do tell!” She loved everything obscene, especially Devlin because, well, he looked obscene even fully dressed.

“It was only a naked young girl lying spread-eagled on the altar, but they took offense.”

Delight giggled at Devlin and the wickedness raging in his aged skull.

“I found the most remarkable book today,” she said, and showed him The Saga of Hieronymus Warhol. “You’re a character in it!”

Devlin snatched the tome and riffled through its pages. “I must find the editor of this lunatic volume, as well as the authors, and eviscerate them!”

While he continued muttering they strolled into the bedroom where Delight was to perform an erotic skit for her demon lover.

After donning her chaps and spurs, she began. “I know you’re part Indian!

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About the Author

  • by jenmisinterpreted the gesture
  • St John said dully
  • smooth-edged skull
  • dark-haired and fleshy
  • naturally athletic
  • barking chorus
  • buy a small Pacific island

About the Author

Rune Skelley has always been naturally athletic, even back in the 20th century, before such things were in vogue. For several years Rune enjoyed a writing partnership with the dark-haired and fleshy novelist Augustus St John, until a misunderstanding involving sign language. Rune attempted to sign, “I’m hungry,” but Augustus misinterpreted the gesture. This lead to their falling out, of which St John said dully, “It’s over.”

Rune Skelley’s smooth-edged skull echoes with the barking chorus of the muses. Rune’s ultimate ambition is to buy a small Pacific island.

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“You Terwilliger?”

  • by jenthe minister started to protest
  • You Terwilliger?
  • a skull with candy lettering
  • a tapestry of golden bees
  • jerked the boy upward
  • an alien tongue

You Terwilliger?” the burly man demanded.

The minister started to protest that he was not, in fact, Terwilliger, but then he realized that the burly man was not talking to him. The minister turned his attention and saw a teenage boy standing behind him in line, clutching a skull with candy lettering that read something unintelligible in an alien tongue. On his chin a tapestry of golden bees formed the beard that puberty had not yet provided.

The burly man jerked the boy upward, scattering the bee beard into an angry cloud.

“The boss has been waiting for that,” the burly man said, indicating the decorated skull and dragging the boy inside the nightclub.

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All We Had To Eat

  • which stank as if hyenas had once lived there
  • a little knob on its side
  • scraped off the rhino skulls
  • meat and berries
  • voles, grouse, foxes
  • their hair was curly, but only loosely so
  • consisted of a skin loin cloth

All we had to eat was meat and berries, which had to be scraped off the rhino skulls. One skull had a little knob on its side, and Edgar claimed it for his own exclusive use. Mine was yellowed, an ancient specimen which stank as if hyenas had once lived there. Already I’d lost twelve pounds.

I was on the trail of voles, grouse, foxes, or fish when I discovered the other encampment. Their hair was curly, but only loosely so. I drew a map on the only suitable material I possessed, which consisted of a skin loincloth.

It was at that moment, scribbling away with a dirty stick at the underside of my meager garment, that I first laid eyes on Minerva.

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