The Grove

The poplars looked cold. The trunks and narrow limbs seemed more than winter bare. They were stark. They were stripped and bleached.

Abe broke off a twig. It snapped dry.

On the tree, silver sap dripped from the new wound. The drops became a stream leaking onto the frozen ground. A thick puddle grew.

The stream became a spray, and Abe put his hand out to block it. Thick drops turned to rivulets down his wrist and hardened. He flexed his hand, and they cracked and flowed again in new directions down his arm.

Abe, frantic, wiped his heavy arm on his shirt. It stuck to the cloth and tore it as he pulled away. He could no longer flex his wrist or elbow. His shoulder stiffened.

He ran back down the road, but his legs became clumsy, and within seconds they stuck fast.


Tendrils climbed his neck, wormed into his nose, mouth and ears until his cry choked off. He stood a silver statue.

A low grating echoed quietly from his open mouth. A branch emerged, bone white. His fingertips, knees, shoulders and toes crackled as shoots pushed through, branching up and out.

The wind blew, and Abe swayed, stark and bare.

Bee grounded

Tommy coughed, and Bee, hovering just above his nose, wilted a little.

He hadn’t brushed his teeth.

She zipped to the ceiling and sat on the fan, legs dangling, looking down at the sleeping boys. She giggled then tumbled backwards and rolled off the blade, catching herself inches from the carpet and twirling out the door.

Down the stairs and around the living room, trailing subtle specks of fairy dust, she alighted on top of the Christmas tree, jealously nudging aside the angel and, with one hand shading her eyes, surveyed the landscape.

She bounced off a high branch and dove to the floor. Presents spilled beneath the tree as she plopped into the pile in a shower of tinsel.

“Achoo!” a puff of tinsel and fairy dust sneezed from the tree.

The Rise and Fall (and Rise and Fall) of @dunleavy27

Saturday, May 11

0 followers

@dunleavy27: Hey, just trying this out now. Anyone listening?

@dunleavy27: Dominoes for supper! Pepperoni rocks!

Sunday, May 12

12 followers

@dunleavy27: Hey @bristol2! How you feeling this morning?

@dunleavy27: Thanks for the RT @dominoes!

@dunleavy27: Leftover dominoes 2nite! Better than fresh!

Friday, May 17

15 followers

@dunleavy27: Watching GI Jane. More dominoes. Demi Moore is SUPERHOT!

Saturday, May 18

124,532 followers

@dunleavy27: Whoa! Wtf?

@dunleavy27: Thanks for the RT @aplusk!

@dunleavy27: Nice bacon and toast for supper, tweeps! Who likes toast?

@dunleavy27: Tweeting from my toilet right now! LOL!

@dunleavy27: Eating nachos.

@dunleavy27: Still watching TV. Nachos gone.

@dunleavy27: Going to bed.

@dunleavy27: NOT! LOL! Still awake.

@dunleavy27: Going to bed now for real! No more jokes!

Sunday, May 19

110,354 followers

@dunleavy27: Lots of assholes on Twitter.

Live Bait

“Have you ever eaten anything that’s still alive?”

“Yes.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied Easton’s face.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I ate a mosquito once when I was riding my bike down the hill by my house. My mouth was open, and it flew right in and down my throat.”

“Aww, that don’t count,” Jake said. He flicked a flat stone across the pond. It bounced one, two, three, four than a staccato fivesixseveneight “Nine!” he said triumphantly and jumped to his feet. “C’mon, I’ll show you what I mean.”

They bounced up the path, each holding a twig. The air whirred as they sliced at the tops of the tall grass on either side, scattering the seeds.

The campground supply shack had an ice machine and a stack of dry wood on one side of the screen door. On the other side sat a vending machine. Live Bait, it read, with a trout snapping at a lure below.

Zombie Luv Flash Fic Contest: Something Not Hunger

The Hungry had clawed for weeks at the walls of St. Martin’s Cathedral. Their fingertips and nails were stripped away, and exposed bone grated against the rough stones. 

It was a fortress for the faithful and had, so far, repelled all others. Each morning and evening they held Mass. Fervent entreaties to God mingled with the low groans from outside the walls.

“Judica me, Deus, et discerne causam meam de gente non sancta. Judge me, O God, and distinguish my cause from the nation that is not holy. Ab mortuis iniquo et doloso erue me. Deliver me from the unjust and deceitful dead.”

He marked the time by these communal prayers, leaning against a crumbled wall across the square.


He was the oldest among them. Boots, hard black leather, and a motorcycle helmet – as luck would have it – were sound armor for an animated corpse. With armor came longevity, and with longevity came experience. He had learned a few tricks and, in turn, followers who trailed him for scraps.

During the prolonged siege of the Cathedral, all but one had left him.

Her hair was the color of food: bright red, frizzed in the fetid humidity. She survived on the fringes, snatching scraps as the others fought bloody tug-of-wars. Her lower lip was split to the chin, and the slack caused the corners of her mouth to curl in a smile.

She crouched beside a bench; her slender fingers grasped the armrest. She watched him watch the onslaught in the dawn.

Canada FAQ

Happy Canada Day everyone! That’s right, today is the 6th Annual Canada Day, a day to celebrate (hassle) Canadians and that country’s wealth of history and culture.

For your enjoyment and, more importantly, your education, I will now inject a little bit of Canadian spirit (Labatt’s) into your day by answering some frequently asked questions about Canada.

Q: Where is Canada?

A: Canada, or North North Dakota, is a long, 160-kilometer (mile) wide strip of land sandwiched between the United States to the south and someplace else to the north.

Q: Who lives in Canada?

A: Beavers.

Q: Does Canada have a government?

A: Canada has (borrows from England) a queen who dictates everything from the food they eat (bacon) to the clothes they wear (flannel).

Q: Does Canada have an economy?

A: Yes! Canada’s economy is focused on beer. More specifically, it’s focused on serving beer to American college freshmen who hop the border on weekends. Many Canadians claim that they brew some of the best beer in the world. Of course, they also claim that they burned down the White House once, so take it for what it’s worth.

Canada’s main trading partner is the United States, and their main export is cold fronts. I can personally attest to the high quality of their cold fronts.

Phantom, P.I.

“Is this case out of your league or what?” she said, slouching on the stained beige sofa, hands behind her head.

She wore a black leather miniskirt, a pink tube top, and a lazy, brainless stare framed by six coats of eye shadow. She kept her hair across half her face, thought it was coy, I suppose, to leave something to the imagination.

I knew she wasn’t leaving until I figured this one out. It was powerful motivation.

“Max Packer, private eye, stumped by the case of the missing nylon,” she said. “Seriously, what are you good for if this is too much?”

“I play a mean harmonica.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her nyloned leg over the bare one.

Of all the places to die, it had to be here. I had let her down fast and hard that morning, almost a year ago. “You liked me well enough last night!” she had shouted as I walked to the door.

“Jimmy Beam liked you well enough last night,” I replied and turned the knob. That's when it hit. It couldn't have waited two more seconds. Pain seared my chest and I dropped in darkness.

My spirit was chained to a scorned woman’s studio apartment. My talents were tested with mind benders like finding car keys or ratting out the cat.