by Smitty

“I found your problem,” the plumber held forth his hand, palm up. Opening, the crystals vaporized on meeting the air.
“And where were these. . .crystals?” asked the wizard.
“Under the charcoal clogging the drain in the middle of the figure in the corner.”
“Show me.”
The crystals billowed by the time the plumber got to the middle of the pentagram. The wizard threw the knife straight for the heart, as the spell required.
The knife bounced off the chainmail under the plumber’s shirt, and he turned: “Fool! Last night I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express!”

via Darleen

by Smitty

The last tear, there on the feather. Photograph. Immortalized. Framed. Hung on the wall. You can’t un-happen history, nor do you want the facts to fade. Get stuffed, Santayana: there will be no re-runs of this sorrow.
That emotional prison of abuse? The key of forgiveness has thrown the door open, and you’re now at liberty to go forth and conquer. The dark, evil prison warden who hoped your hatred and humiliation will melt your joy, and turn you into one of them, has lost.
The cycle of cruelty is broken. Life prevails over death. Time to leave this necropolis.

via Darleen

by Smitty

Redlight Mind

“And I followed her to the station with her suitcase in my hand. Well, it’s hard to tell, it’s hard to tell. . .when all your love’s in vain. All my love’s in vain.
When the train rolled up to the station. . .I looked her in the eye. Well, I was lonesome, I felt so lonesome. . .and I could not help but cry.
When the train, it left the station with two lights on behind
. . .well, the blue light was my blues. . .and the red light was my mind. All my love’s in vain.”

via Darleen

Bonus:

[I’ve always loved the delicate minimalism of this tune. Keb Mo’s recording of the Robert Johnson masterpiece is true to the emotion, and a clean recording. I certainly won’t be trumping the emotion on display anytime soon.]

by Smitty

[Start with Darleen, or this will make less sense.]

She dragged as the smart phone rang. “Nailed. DVD evidence by courier.”
“Thanks. When do we go to divorce court?”
“That’s Litigation. I’m Operations.”

* * *

Courier knew nothing, of course, but metadata in the MPEG4 would make the case. HomeWreckers, Inc. had brought down its last family. The husband betrayed by the prostitute smiled grimly to himself.

* * *

Robbie turned from his smart phone to his sister Hermione: “OK, it looks like dad has fallen into the trap, right on top of mom. We may not get a sibling, but the reality show ratings will rock.”

by Smitty

thump thump
Four teenage boys were poised to sneak into the old house.
Thump Thump
They were armed with smartphones to take pictures all the way up to the top floor.
THUMP THUMP
After their triumphal return, they planned to return the next weekend with girls, and Freddy claimed he knew how to get ahold of a bottle of whiskey. But first they had to prove that it was safe.
THUMP THUMP!
A hell-hound the size of a small delivery truck roared through the paralyzed boys, creating a momentary cloud of blood and limbs.
“Good Scooby!” said Mr. Wickles.

via Darleen

by Smitty

A retro sock hop, and the band played doo-wop. My intentions were rogueish. I’d find some little sophomore something and let it be known that Judy and I were finished in a public way. That tramp.
Locked eyes on a little blond girl in pony tails; green eyes, makeup, clothing and accessories arranged to perfection. Gave her the smile like the big vaudeville stage hook. Pulled her to me as a slow song started.
Her converse mounted mine. Her arms wrapped around my neck as we settled into a wet kiss.
Then she chomped down on my lip.

Update: also in the mix are Darleen, Jimmy, and BigGator5