Short Story – Running Shoes

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Running Shoes – By: Danny Machal

Part I

‘My name, is Berry Augustine.’

‘I’m thirty five years old and I’m a sick man.’

‘I’m also now, dead.’

‘At the age of twenty nine I was surprised to find there was a woman who would marry me.  My lovely wife Dana; she must have been sick too.  No sane and healthy woman would ever get involved in my situation.’

‘She is sad that I’ve gone, but she’s also the strongest woman I’ve ever met.  She’ll never stop loving me or forget me and the void I’ve left in her will be filled quickly.  She is just that kind of person, a survivor.  Not like me.  I was weak.’

‘You see, they told me I have obsessive compulsive disorder.  The three letters OCD would somehow define me to a lot of folks.  I’m a person ya’ know? I’m not just an ATM for the pharmaceutical corporations, and it isn’t like I’m contagious.’
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100 Words – They are little people, not midgets.

Weekly Challenge #163 – Death by Pineapple, Revenge shall be mine, failed Wolfram Alpha queries.

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We are little people.

My Father never hesitated to point out the things we weren’t capable of.

The constant mental abuse battered against my Mother’s mental ramparts.

She might be a small midget, but her pride was as large as a full grown man.

Smuggling a syringe from her work, she would make him a special Hawaiian pizza that night.

I typed the word ‘arsenic’ into the WolframAlpha frame work after we got back from Dad’s funeral.

No results were returned about it killing anyone.

—————————————————————-

Danny says –

1) I’ll record the audio for this story later today.

2) Give Blood and Thanks is postponed until tomorrow night.

3) Working on a REALLY cool story that I need to get finished up for GreatHites.

4) I’m going to do NanoWriMo this year.  So the time  has come for me to kick around ideas and start outlining.  Click the link to learn more about NanoWriMo.

5) I’ve got so much crap in the hopper right now it is disgusting.  I need to get the word count up and that is all there is to it.

6) I love you guys

Give Blood and Thanks: Chapter 10 and 11

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Give Blood and Thanks: Chapter 10 and 11 – Download PDF

Chapter 10: Coffee and steak make Arthur Martian’s gears turn.

“Refill sir?” the waitress asked.

“Sure,” Arthur scooted his cup toward the edge of the table.  She filled it and spilled a few drops on the packet of Snoogin’s utility records.

“Hey, watch it,” he said.

“Sorry.”

Her sharp features turned a shade of pink.  The girl couldn’t be more than nineteen years old.  She looked at the ground, paused, then turned to walk away.  Short cropped black hair bounced in rhythm with her slim hips.  He recognized that type of behavior.  Pausing like that, it indicated she was waiting to be dismissed by him, the man.  Arthur could only guess what sort of asshole broke her.  If he had a dollar for the head of every stepfather he slammed into a door or a wall he would probably have close to a hundred.  His eye’s stayed locked on her as she gracefully floated back behind the counter.
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100 Words – Mosquitoes and Prosthetics

The madness of topics continues over at the 100 word story podcast.  This week’s topic is equally as weird as the last.

hint: I wrote this story only after reading the wikipedia entry on mosquitoes.

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“Buzzalina, come dear, tell me what happened,” the surgeon said.

“Oh doctor, I’ll never be a mother now.  I should just kill myself; I’m useless.”

“There there, sweet, sweet girl.  Things will be okay.”

He held her while she wept.  No, she would never bare any children and she would probably ensure her own end.  A broken proboscis almost always means instant death, she was lucky.  One could call it a miracle from up above – a testament to the power of faith and the prayer of her family.

A.P. – Cybernetics Inc. releases organic flesh like covering for metal replacement limbs.

Give Blood and Thanks: Chapter 8 and 9

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Give Blood and Thanks: Chapter 8 and 9 – Download PDF

Chapter 8:  A Thanksgiving Remembered.

A neon Burger King sign illuminated the brown shuffling figure that was Remy.  He smacked his lips at the sight of a discarded Whopper in the parking lot.  Picking it up, he put it under his filthy rags of clothes and set out to find a location to eat.  A place where he would be hidden and out of sight.

The burger meat was cold, the bun stale, and the cheese hard.  Surprisingly he didn’t have to pick off any insects.  Usually, depending on how long the food was on the ground, the ants always attacked first,  then the bees set to work, and if it was a  substantial piece of organic protein, the maggots would soon take up residency.  Remy was only forced to pick off maggots one time, before he knew the ins and outs of being a condemned person.  It was right after she took everything and changed the locks on the doors.  His drinking drove them away, it drove everyone away.  He had no where to go but the gutter, and there he stayed, just like he deserved.
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