.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” said Lance.
Julia remembered something, smirked a little, then realized that it was inappropriate. But the irony was too juicy not to share. “He always liked the song Don’t Fear the Reaper,” she said, “but I’m sure he wasn’t intending to die in a stupid convenience store robbery gone awry. It’s just so senseless.”
“So what happened?” asked Lance, turning to Eric’s now-widow.
Rose knew she would have to explain what she knew of the events many times more, and dreaded it. She would skip the details: “Eric went into the store at around 11:00 to get who-knows-what. It was him being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Apparently there was a scuffle between the clerk and the would-be robber and the gun went off. The bullet hit him in the neck and he bled to death before the paramedics arrived.”
All three looked somberly at the empty table.
The silence was broken a few seconds later by Julia. “Eric’s in a better place.”
“How do you know?” asked Rose. “You know Eric wasn’t particularly religious.”
“I don’t. It’s just something you say.”
“It sounds comforting, but I’m not sure it is.”
“But what if he did happen to have a conversion experience right before he went into the store?” Lance piped in.
“Do you need a conversion experience to go to heaven—assuming that’s what you meant by ‘a better place’?” asked Rose, turning to Julia.
“I suppose not,” Julia responded. “It’s just such a huge unknown. It makes you wonder how fragile life is and what it all means—spiritually. Does life just end or does the spirit live on?”
Lance reached over and gently squeezed Julia’s hand.
“Anyway, now is probably not the time to speculate about Eric’s spiritual condition and eternal resting place,” remarked Rose. “I’m just…I can’t believe he’s gone.”
They returned to staring at the table. Julia said a little prayer for Eric.
.
Monday, November 3, 2008
On Our Side, Submission 12 by Lee Martin
.
A man with red skin sat at the end of an iron table covered in claw marks. His muscular arms slowly lifted his sword from its sheath an placed in on the table with a crisp metallic clatter; his hands ached and his cheeks burned. Guttural grunts pushed out of his nostrils like a bull’s. Another man glided into the dark chamber, crowned in gold with a flowing pure white robe.
“Good evening Purrós,” said the man in white bluntly as he sat at the other end of the dark table. “Still dining on blood, I see.” The red man’s eyes warmed with red light as soft bloody tears welled. “What? What has happened?” asked the man in white urgently.
“He’s dead.”
“Who?” asked the man in white gently, his strong voice the room.
“Thánatos. I just heard.”
The man in white sat with his alabaster face hardened on Purrós.
Sharp footfalls on rough hewn stone pieced the air. The two men listened as the steps approached. The ancient door groaned as it was open.
“Mélas, come. Come hear the news,” said the man in white. “Our great brother is dead.”
Mélas sat in the middle of the long table, his dark leathery skin and black armor blending into the tabletop.
“Please, eat!” said the man in white, with a smooth wave of his arm across the table, indicating the evening’s feast.
“Thank you Leukós, I think I’ll pass…not hungry,” said Mélas. Leukós let out a deep explosive laugh.
Small brown servants brought out a screaming man chained to a platter.
“Do you mind?” asked Leukós, eyebrows raised at Purrós. Red hands reluctantly grasped the hilt of the sword and slid it slowly into the belly of the screaming man. Leukós’ eyes closed in delight of the fading screams of agony. The man made one final jerk as the sword was removed, leaking rivers of rusty blood along the table.
“You were saying?” prompted Mélas, softly drumming his dark boney fingers on the table.
“Yes. Our brother Purrós just informed me of the recent passing of Thánatos.” Leukós paused to slide a white finger across a small stream of blood on the table. He brought the finger to his mouth and licked it clean. “What our brother Purrós fails to realize is that the death of Thánatos comes as no surprise to me. Oh, for ‘God’s sake,’ Purrós, eat something! You know Mélas won’t! Yes, dead. But as you both should know, dying is of little concern to us. Why, just this morning I was thinking about trying it myself before we begin! Instead, however, I thought I’d let Thánatos have the honors.”
The room was briefly filled with soft chewing sounds from Leukós’ end of the table.
“Thánatos had been sick for a while. I think it was Apathy. At first I thought to rid our brother of such malaise, but it gave his skin such a fine grayish-green hue!” Leukós smiled wide, his ivory teeth bared like hungry fangs. “And to think the kind of pestilence he spread in his final days! Ugh, I am almost jealous. I really think his passing could be an asset to this institution. You see, Purrós, simply goading men into plunging swords in each other’s bellies is but one instrument at our disposal, and you execute it marveolously. And just look at Mélas and all he has accomplished!” Leukós paused, his nose raised in the air. “Do you smell that? Ahhh…rotting flesh…disease…he smells of death itself!”
A ghastly figure limped into the room, filling the air with a putrid stench that filled the brothers with a renewed vigor.
“May I present your ‘dead’ brother, his powers of influence greatly magnified by his recent passing!” cried Leukós is triumph. The greenish walking corpse took a seat across from Mélas. Purrós smiled happily at the sight. The small brown servants clutched their throats as airborne sickness exuded by Thánatos overtook them. Their brown skin already began turning black with decay.
“Brothers! We are reunited once more. Rejoice in our company, for tomorrow our conquest will begin anew. I feel we will each die before we are done, but Death is on our side!”
.
A man with red skin sat at the end of an iron table covered in claw marks. His muscular arms slowly lifted his sword from its sheath an placed in on the table with a crisp metallic clatter; his hands ached and his cheeks burned. Guttural grunts pushed out of his nostrils like a bull’s. Another man glided into the dark chamber, crowned in gold with a flowing pure white robe.
“Good evening Purrós,” said the man in white bluntly as he sat at the other end of the dark table. “Still dining on blood, I see.” The red man’s eyes warmed with red light as soft bloody tears welled. “What? What has happened?” asked the man in white urgently.
“He’s dead.”
“Who?” asked the man in white gently, his strong voice the room.
“Thánatos. I just heard.”
The man in white sat with his alabaster face hardened on Purrós.
Sharp footfalls on rough hewn stone pieced the air. The two men listened as the steps approached. The ancient door groaned as it was open.
“Mélas, come. Come hear the news,” said the man in white. “Our great brother is dead.”
Mélas sat in the middle of the long table, his dark leathery skin and black armor blending into the tabletop.
“Please, eat!” said the man in white, with a smooth wave of his arm across the table, indicating the evening’s feast.
“Thank you Leukós, I think I’ll pass…not hungry,” said Mélas. Leukós let out a deep explosive laugh.
Small brown servants brought out a screaming man chained to a platter.
“Do you mind?” asked Leukós, eyebrows raised at Purrós. Red hands reluctantly grasped the hilt of the sword and slid it slowly into the belly of the screaming man. Leukós’ eyes closed in delight of the fading screams of agony. The man made one final jerk as the sword was removed, leaking rivers of rusty blood along the table.
“You were saying?” prompted Mélas, softly drumming his dark boney fingers on the table.
“Yes. Our brother Purrós just informed me of the recent passing of Thánatos.” Leukós paused to slide a white finger across a small stream of blood on the table. He brought the finger to his mouth and licked it clean. “What our brother Purrós fails to realize is that the death of Thánatos comes as no surprise to me. Oh, for ‘God’s sake,’ Purrós, eat something! You know Mélas won’t! Yes, dead. But as you both should know, dying is of little concern to us. Why, just this morning I was thinking about trying it myself before we begin! Instead, however, I thought I’d let Thánatos have the honors.”
The room was briefly filled with soft chewing sounds from Leukós’ end of the table.
“Thánatos had been sick for a while. I think it was Apathy. At first I thought to rid our brother of such malaise, but it gave his skin such a fine grayish-green hue!” Leukós smiled wide, his ivory teeth bared like hungry fangs. “And to think the kind of pestilence he spread in his final days! Ugh, I am almost jealous. I really think his passing could be an asset to this institution. You see, Purrós, simply goading men into plunging swords in each other’s bellies is but one instrument at our disposal, and you execute it marveolously. And just look at Mélas and all he has accomplished!” Leukós paused, his nose raised in the air. “Do you smell that? Ahhh…rotting flesh…disease…he smells of death itself!”
A ghastly figure limped into the room, filling the air with a putrid stench that filled the brothers with a renewed vigor.
“May I present your ‘dead’ brother, his powers of influence greatly magnified by his recent passing!” cried Leukós is triumph. The greenish walking corpse took a seat across from Mélas. Purrós smiled happily at the sight. The small brown servants clutched their throats as airborne sickness exuded by Thánatos overtook them. Their brown skin already began turning black with decay.
“Brothers! We are reunited once more. Rejoice in our company, for tomorrow our conquest will begin anew. I feel we will each die before we are done, but Death is on our side!”
.
Party Over Here, Submission 12 by Charlie Arnold
.
From: Sean
To: Steve, Scott, William
Dudes night this Friday. I’m talking cards, beer, shots… bars?
From: Scott
To: Sean, Steve, William
Fuck girls tonight. I just want to dance.
From: Sean
To: Scott, Steve, William
Does that mean only cards and alcohol?
From: William
To: Sean, Scott, Steve
I’m down
From: Scott
To: William, Sean, Steve
I’ve got some things to do but I’ll be there.
From: Sean
To: Scott, William, Steve
Ok. My place at 9.
From: Steve
To: Sean, Scott, William
P A R T Y ‘cause we got to.
From: Sean
To: Steve, Scott, William
Somebody got it.
From: Steve
To: Sean, Scott, William
Scott’s phone must be blowing up now with all the messages.
From: William
To: Steve, Sean, Scott
Scott couldn’t make it because as his plane was flying home over the Sea of Japan it was shot down
.
From: Sean
To: Steve, Scott, William
Dudes night this Friday. I’m talking cards, beer, shots… bars?
From: Scott
To: Sean, Steve, William
Fuck girls tonight. I just want to dance.
From: Sean
To: Scott, Steve, William
Does that mean only cards and alcohol?
From: William
To: Sean, Scott, Steve
I’m down
From: Scott
To: William, Sean, Steve
I’ve got some things to do but I’ll be there.
From: Sean
To: Scott, William, Steve
Ok. My place at 9.
From: Steve
To: Sean, Scott, William
P A R T Y ‘cause we got to.
From: Sean
To: Steve, Scott, William
Somebody got it.
From: Steve
To: Sean, Scott, William
Scott’s phone must be blowing up now with all the messages.
From: William
To: Steve, Sean, Scott
Scott couldn’t make it because as his plane was flying home over the Sea of Japan it was shot down
.
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