On a warm Manhattan morning, Harry Pimble stepped out from the cab and shook off the deja-vu that had come over him. Under the shade of an awning he took out his cigarettes and lit one, inhaling deeply. Harry smoked and watched as the cab sped off and rejoined the vein of traffic. He took … More Blood, White, and Blue…
“Megalomaniac billionaire. Space shuttles mainly. But the genocide came easy as well so…”
Put, Brundle fused…
He says ‘do I not count?’
‘Yeah and from behind cos your breath stinks of onions…’
‘I froze your tears and made a dagger, and stabbed it in my cock forever…’
‘That looks gay…’
The author sat at his desk in the warm sunlight that streamed in through the French doors. The study was a strange mix of chaos and order with books stacked neatly in on shelves and old papers of every kind strewn on the desk like a great reef. Framed photographs of the author’s grandchildren stood on … More The Author.
I’m dying. Breathless and panicked Stammering and sweating, Whispering weightless words To empty faces Who stare sadistically Like Colosseum spectators. They prefer this mental breakdown To my actual material. I’m dying again And they absolutely love it.
After years of plotting, the children finally struck. Adults were forced to surrender TV remotes and future dreams before being herded onto cattle trucks under the supervision of machine-gun wielding adolescents. The lucky ones who escaped the city fled to far-off snow-capped mountains where young legs leadened quickly. Within months the city had fallen. Angry … More Rise of the Planet of the Kids.