Humor
Shark Attack!
SHARK ATTACK! ICELAND 1992 Gylfi Gunnerason shouted, ‘Come on! We are ready! Hop aboard!’ The thought of another day on the water filled me with nausea, dread, fear and horror, but how could I tell Gylfi that after all the time and expense he had sacrificed? I nodded my acknowledgement and boarded.
By mark frendo5 years ago in Fiction
The Men Behind the Curtain
During a break in the weekly Thursday evening poker game in Zuckerman’s barn… “This town is dying. We need something to draw people here, especially with all the kids now going off to college or to the big city,” Homer Zuckerman said with a hint of desperation in his voice.
By David Flowers5 years ago in Fiction
Would You Like Some Cake? It's To Die For...
The dinner had been lavish, several courses of the entire family’s favourites. Roasted meats of various beasts dripping with their own juices, an enormous pile of mashed potato sitting in the centre of the table, looming over the rest of the food. Bowls of vegetables, roasted, steamed, raw… it seemed as if any food imaginable rested atop that table. There was far more food than the six people present could have eaten in a week.
By Dave Rowlands5 years ago in Fiction
A Kestrel Offers His Thoughts on the Vacation Rental
Well, I for one voted for the Roman castle. There's just something about being able to bob your head to tell the girls modestly and sweetly that, “Oh, as a matter of fact, I do happen to live in the castle.” What's with the rut? Who said we have to fly back to the exact same place every year?
By Amethyst Qu5 years ago in Fiction
Hunter Stalks the Darkness
The shadows filling the barn were his natural habitat; all feared to enter his domain. His dark fur blending perfectly as he stalked his prey between bales of hay. His green eyes shining with malevolent intelligence, the only visual clue that he was on the prowl. Even his silent padding, each measured step placed optimally to prevent his prey from realizing, that today was its final moment. His tail began a rhythmic twitching, sign enough for any that witnessed, that he had spotted his prey. Sure enough, just a short leap away from his cleverly concealed vantage, the twitching pink nose and the sound of chittering teeth munching on grain. A large female mouse had the nerve to steal from his people. His long dark tail twitched ever slower, in shorter and shorter lengths as his rear legs bunched in preparation for his patented “Death From Above (TM pending)” leap”. When the moment had finally reached its breaking point, he pounced. Wiry, cable-like muscles released their tension in one convulsive burst, like thick rubber bands. His aim near perfect, he sailed directly toward the vile interloper defiling his domain. His razor-sharp claws, talons of death reaching for the thief’s life. Somehow, despite his perfection in motion, the villainous rodent felt the approaching death, and did what she did best; scamper like her life depended on it.
By Brian Amonette5 years ago in Fiction
This Old Treasure
Ma always said, that in time of need, dig up the treasure in the basement. We all knew about it. Ma had five sibs, and Da had ten at one time, though only six of the whole bunch lived to have kids. But we all knew. Da's great-great-great-great grandpa had buried a treasure in the basement of the house, and if we were ever in dire need, dig it up and use it.
By Meredith Harmon5 years ago in Fiction
