VERMONTSo Officer McFuckhead takes you down. Your knees slam into the concrete and your hands are stung white-hot from black pitch and pebbles. There’s a knee to the kidneys and you wretch. Your adrenalin-soaked brain strikes out. Your arms pummel the crap out of whoever, whatever, wherever and then you’re ‘tazed . . . which you asked for. Your Chapter jacket is torn from you and the cops are laughing.VERMONT3 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I think you should haul-ass to Vermont, man; get in the woods. Live high and alive in the land of crystal meth and stupid, hick cops. Yeah. That might be good. You try that.
The Toad of Batford JailStockman Jo held the tincture bottle up to the barred window in Toad’s cell and said, ‘Hell's bell's, Toad, drink ‘er up and lets me get out of here.” A mint-green concoction - thick and dirty like oil, rolled within the vessel. “Shoo! That brew smells like shit, Toad,” Stockman said, flashing it around some, “lucky you! Wonder what them lumps are up to, eh, Toad?” He aimed the bottle at Toad’s face and pointed it like a finger. “Goddamn you, don’t you spill none of this now, I ain’t gonna clean you up.” Toad took the tincture in hand, uncorked it and raised it to his lips; but before he drank, he sent his breath across the lip and the smell of rot and oranges filled the air. “Jesus, Toad.” Stockman Jo said, “What did you do? Give birth to a dead calf?” He turned his head, raising hand to mouth and aimed his nose to the window. Toad slipped the vial behind him and dribbled the contentsThe Toad of Batford Jail1 month ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The Beautiful, Cold WorldThe infinite grayness of the sky stretches over everything like a blanket. The frost-bitten, bitter snow clings ever-seemingly to the tips of the mountains as they reach towards the cold colorless sky. The eeriness of the trees seems to grow as the snow covers their naked branches along with the leaves scattered about their great trunks. The wind whispers into your ears as it nips at all other senses. The purest of white mixed with the lightness of the gray in the sky shines and reflects within your eyes as if to take hold of your soul and freeze it in time along with the vast overgrown scenery that is nature. It is as a photograph held in the depths of your memory as it consumes your thoughts and reminds you of the beautiful, cold world.The Beautiful, Cold World2 weeks ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This