Showing posts from June, 2016

A Kir Royal

“So, do you want ice cream?” Shirtless asked. We were sitting in a bar, it was late at night, and almost everyone had gone home. The bartender was wiping down tables, collecting broken glasses off the floor and wounded soldiers from chairs and toilet seats. Who takes a drink to the bathroom? The man sitting next to me was shirtless and I may have been too drunk to decently say, but I thought he looked damn good like that. I would have asked him to come home with me but “home” was lacking a definition at the moment. In my hand was a Bloody Mary, half finished. The other half was sitting in my stomach, giving me the buzz I needed to chase away my thoughts until morning. I’m sorry, let me correct myself. It wasn’t a buzz. It was a horde of angry wasps. I didn’t want those thoughts to come back. Ever. I had walked into that bar with every intent to drink until I passed out and choked on my own vomit. And I was well on my way too, until some dumbass took my purse with every last remaining…

No. 7: Part 1

Neco, Neco, Neco. The Latin chant hums through my head, blocks any thoughts, any emotions, any memories. The ladle feels heavy in my hands, why do I have that again? I lift it to my head. The handle is covered in apple juice. My hand is covered in apple juice. I scream and drop the ladle. It thermoses until it hits the floor. Bits of liquid splatter everywhere, covering my feet, my legs, my face. I can taste something metallic on my tongue. The chanting grows louder and louder, closer and closer. A scalpel steps from the darkness, its body teetering left and right as it moans. The ladle is stuck in its chest. It’s leaking apple juice. No, it’s leaking blood. I killed that man.
I am a computer. I’ve been programmed to do only one thing. Kill or be killed. There are a thousand of ways to achieve this goal, but in the end, the objective is the same. My programmer and caretaker Scythe calls me Septem or Sept for short. I’m the seventh of his creations, the newest in his series of killing …


Not so much a story (that'll come later on this week) but I made my first chapbook! XD
I won't indulge you into the history of Chapbooks, (mostly because I know so little about the history) but to put it simply I collected a few pieces I made and gathered them in a pamphlet style booklet.

I printed 20 copies, but after handing most of them to my writing class, three to my uber driver and 1 to my housekeeper, I'm left three. :(
Needless to say, I'm super proud of this accompliment. It's so satisfying to see my work in a physical form.

I was thinking of posting a digital spread of my piece, for people to read. But I'm curious, would anyone be interested?