In a stone house in the middle of Lisbon there lived a young girl. Not a nasty, dirty, wet stone house, filled with green and black mold, nor yet a dry, bare, modern stone house with nothing in it but glass and rubber light fixtures that jiggle when you touch them: it was a Portuguese …
Continue reading “In which is a study of a master storyteller”
Dawn. A thousand years in the future. A knoll in an oak forest. Granite boulders loll about where an ancient cataclysm tossed them. A half naked troglodyte, piebald and weary, limps up the knoll and sees a text engraved on a stone. The troglodyte approaches, knocks off some moss, and reads the following: To whom …
Continue reading “In which a troglodyte reads Jordan B Peterson”
Rufus walks into a seaside restaurant and sits at the bar; his aunt’s boyfriend Lucky Strike walks over. Rufus: Hi, Lucky, man am I hungry! I’ve been making artwork all morning on the beach! Lucky: You’ve been making artwork? Rufus: Yeah, and I’m super hungry! Lucky: What does that remind me of? Something Georgiana told …
Dermot Dermot hung up the phone as gently as possible with a delicate push of his thumb. He even said, “No, no, thank YOU officer,” as if he appreciated the call from the FBI agent about the missing handgun. He leaned back in his limo seat and ran a shaking hand over his face. A …
Continue reading “In which Rufus sleeps under Dermot’s desk”
Philosopher: I miss your giggle; when you came here—the first couple of nights that you were here—you giggled all the time! Johnny: I can’t giggle anymore; I lost the little spark of je ne sais quoi which gave me my effeminate charm. I think it was when my ex-wife pooped on my bed. She said …
Irene and Teresa walk home from school a few days after they both fell into a well. Teresa: Thanks for jumping into that well to save me. Irene: That’s okay; my dad asked me to watch over you. Teresa: Why? Irene: I can’t really tell you that, but I was the one in danger, not …
Continue reading “The well: in which Teresa and Irene walk home”
The philosopher’s cell mate, the local drunk Johnny, stands in the jail cafeteria and waves a hand at the cook. Drunk: Excuse me, darling! Cook: I’m a dude, man. Drunk: I knew that…? Cook: What? Drunk: This gruel is great; I love it; could you add a slice of lemon peel while cooking it tomorrow? …
Continue reading “In which Johnny asks for lemon and syrup (incarcerated philosopher 7)”
At the mouth of the open well, a small group had formed around a Portuguese television personality named Catarina. Catarina, into the camera: If you are joining us just now, we are live at a music festival where a girl has fallen into a well, and a boy rappelled in after her to save her. …
Continue reading “The well: in which a Portuguese television personality rappels in”
The local drunk sits on his jail bed and thumbs his phone. The philosopher paces the cell; suddenly he turns on the drunk accusingly: Philosopher: You are an actor! I’ve seen your face on a movie poster! Drunk: Who, me? Philosopher: You are Johnny Depp! Drunk: Moi? Philosopher: Yes, I’m sure of it now! It …
A woman drives a car up a dirt road into a forest. She parks, walks a ways into the forest, pees, and says: Woman: Ah, well-met, Forest! As she pulls up her trousers, the pines sigh in a gentle breeze. Birds chirp. Two oak leaves flutter down and land on the woman’s voluminous, dark hair …
A school; Moi approaches as a small human cries wildly near the door. Moi: Hey, little tiger, why are you crying? Small human: My m-mommy is so selfish! Moi: It isn’t any of my business, but I have some helpful observations, which I would love to observe upon you. Small human: T-tell me; I’m w-wise …
Continue reading “In which Moi offers helpful observations to a small human”
The philosopher sits on his jail bed. His cell mate, the local drunk, stands in the corner thumbing a phone. A bitcoin miner enters the jail and approaches the cell bars. Miner: Are you the philosopher? Drunk: No, I’m just here for the food and the wifi. Philosopher: To whom do I owe the pleasure …
The fuddy-duddy sits in his office at the university; a student walks into the room. Fuddy-duddy, under his breath: Oh, god. Student: Hi! Fuddy-duddy: My office hours, as yet, have not begun; please, if you will stand outside the door for another moment…? Student: Did I pass the class? Fuddy-duddy: Did you, or did you …
Continue reading “In which the fuddy-duddy talks to a student”
A hillside in a park; Moi and Ewan sit on a blanket. Moi: You’ve never told me one thing: what is it like to kiss Scarlett Johans— At the word “Scarlett,” Ewan leaps to his feet, kneels beside Moi, and clasps a hand to Moi’s mouth. Ewan: DO NOT SPEAK HER NAME! Moi mumbles something …
The fuddy-duddy sits ensconced in his study poking his fire occasionally. His mind turns to that first, and only, attempt he every made a writing a novel, the attempt which proved to him and the rest of the world the truth of the proverb: Those who are unable to write beautifully become critics. He opens …
Continue reading “In which the fuddy-duddy reads his first novel attempt”