Saturday, December 25, 2010

Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart part two

Price Breaks and Heartaches

A journal of retail and failed romance

Chapter Five

Paper Hearts And A Red Haired Tart

part two





Of course Kevin K. Hanson’s crew wasn’t the only friends I had. There was my D&D group but spending my afternoons pretending to be a dwarven level 12 fighter was starting to lose its appeal. I wanted girls, I wanted my glory days to begin, I wanted wine and roses instead of soda and Cheetos.


*


...there was a dragon in the dungeon, at least that was what the legend said. The semi-noble, mostly famous adventurers known as the Swashbuckling Fellowship had decided to venture into the vast system of tunnels and traps in search of treasure.


“After all,” Thad the dwarf commented as he lead his companions through the catacombs, “what else is there to do in this lousy kingdom? It isn’t like there is any political intrigue, notable individuals with any kind of personality or even a viable economic system. Even the weather seems to be completely random and nonsensical...”



... “I swear to God Al,” Adrian glared at me from behind his Dungeon Master’s Screen, “all you do is complain.”


“I am just saying, that this could be so much better,” we were in Adrian’s parent’s basement as usual. There were new Boris Vallejo posters on the wall but the same old stains on the carpet. We sat in rickety chairs around an equally rickety card table. If you leaned something was going to come crashing down. “We’re supposed to be role-playing, this is like a computer game.”


“Interesting talk,” Daniel said, “coming from the guy that can’t afford a computer.”


That was a very interesting and clever observation so I told him, “Shut up.”


“Can we just get going here? I’d like the last game before I head off for basic training to be a little more fun,” Gordon shifted uncomfortably in his seat and then pitched over to the left, “GAAAAAA!”


“Are you sure you want to go through with joining the Marines?” I asked.


Harry looked up from the Doctor Who novelization he was reading and then buried his nose in the book again.


Gordon righted his chair and sat gingerly back down, “This is something I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid. I want to join the Marines and then work my way into special forces. The SEALS could use a guy like me.”


“Uh,” I said, “I don’t think you’ve got that quite right. The SEALS are...”


“Don’t,” Daniel silenced me with a gesture, “just don’t.”


“But...”


“We’ve all tried already.”



...the battle with the hobgoblins left the Swashbuckling Fellowship bloodied but unbowed. Thad the dwarf cleaned his blade and surveyed the dank dungeon hallway, “I think we’ve lost our bearings again.”


“I thought dwarves had big bonuses,” Chemlar the elven thief’s voice became a scream has a level of experience was burned away, “Nooooooo! Not the piano lessons!”


Bruce the ranger shook his head pityingly, “What are these ‘bonuses’ you speak of? Is it some kind of elven metaphor for a penis?”


“Oooo,” Thad said, “I like the sound of that.”


“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Chemlar said expectantly.


“This way!” the Wizard With No Name pointed back the way they had come. He tossed his fifteen foot multicolored scarf over his shoulder and started walking.


The other’s shrugged and followed but Thad wondered aloud, “When did he get that?”...




... “I just thought it would be cool,” Harry K looked up from his copy of Doctor Who And The Giant Robot, “I like to imagine my character looking like Tom Baker.”


“Last week you said he looked like Merlin from Excalibur,” Daniel snorted with disgust and crossed his arms. Somehow this caused his seat to topple over, “EEEEEEEEEEE!”


“Guys!” Adrian stood and leaned on the table, “Be careful with the damn chairs-”


And it was at that point the table flipped over...



...the tremors stopped as suddenly as they had begun. Dirt fell from the stone roof but it held. The members of the Swashbuckling Fellowship stepped away from the walls they had thrown themselves against- all of them save for the Wizard with no name, he hadn’t moved. In fact, he was still standing casually in the middle of the passage and studying his book.


“I don’t think we’re even close to the dragon,” Chemlar said, “let’s go back to the town.”


“No way!” Bruce the ranger said, “I’m here for an adventure, not to twiddle my thumbs while you try to steal everything that isn’t nailed down.”


“You guys could help.”


“How?” Thad asked, “It’s not like we’re double classed... oops!”


Arcs of power bled from the dwarf in a kind of agonizing reverse Quickening, leaving him a sobbing, urine-stained wreck. “Really?” Thad said in disbelief, “I soiled myself?”


“Who soiled themselves?” the Wizard With No Name looked up from the tome he was reading.


Once the dwarf had cleaned out his armor the band of adventurers began marching again. Their path took them across more and more hobgoblins that they dispatched with a combination of swordplay and magic- assuming the wizard was paying attention of course.


Just as they were about to give up hope they found the first real signs that they were getting closer to their goal, yet it was also a terrible setback...



... “A dragon turd blocking the hallway?” I said, “Really?”


“Really,” Adrian insisted.


Bruce had been looking at his character sheet, “How the hell are we going to get past it? Can we climb over it?”


“Too slippery,” Adrian laughed fiendishly.


I wasn’t done complaining, “Pee and poop. Is this what the game as come to?”


“Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. I should call you Bitchy Bruno.”


Daniel grinned, “Bitchy Bruno! I love it!”


“We should dig a tunnel through it.” Harry K suggested.


“Ew!” Daniel said, “My character is too cool for that.”


I looked back down at the sloppy map we had made to trace our route through the dungeon, “Maybe we can double back.’


Now it was Daniel’s turn to laugh fiendishly, “I have a better idea...”



...before anyone realized what he was doing Chemlar pulled the potion of mind control from the Wizard With No Name’s back pack and took a gulp. Mystical power flowed through him, “Now I command you Thad to burrow through that dragon turd.”


“You assho-” the dwarf began to say but then all resistance faded from his features, “Eep.”


The other members of the Swashbuckling Brotherhood watched him start digging with cruel glee, disgust or disinterest.


“Eep,” Thad the dwarf said as he pawed doglike through the muck. Occasionally he would come across the bone of an unlucky adventurer or hobgoblin and toss it aside, “eep.”


Finally the ranger had seen enough, “All right, that does it! I’m going to put a stop to this.”


“Oh hey Bruce,” the Wizard With No Name said as another mind control potion was pulled from his pack.


Mystical energy flowed through Bruce The ranger and he said, “I command you Thad the dwarf to throw crap at Chemlar!”


“Oop,” the dwarf did as he was ordered. He grabbed a fist full of dragon poop and sent it flying at the elven thief.


Chemlar’s lightning fast reflexes saved him from a face full of feces but some of the brown muck landed on his feet. His features, much like his boots, darkened. He took another drink of his mind control potion and ordered the dwarf, “Lick my boots clean!”


“Eep.”


Not one of the members of the Swashbuckling Brotherhood noticed the five Neo-otyugh drawing closer and licking their foul lips...



...as you can imagine things went downhill from there and our characters died once again. Gordon started packing up his books and papers, “This was the worst game ever.”


“It certainly left a bad taste in my character’s mouth,” I said with a shudder.


“Not my fault you guys are such crappy players,” Adrian tried to sound smug as he crossed his legs but doing so caused his chair to fall over, “GAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”


I helped him up, “Well I think we were doing fine until Daniel started screwing around.”


“I was not screwing around! I was playing my alignment!” Daniel banged his fist on the table for emphasis, causing it to collapse spectacularly.


“Well,” Gordon said, “this is it for me for a while anyway. I’ll try to come by after I finish basic training.”


Harry K finally put his book down, “Yeah. Good luck and everything.”


“Yeah, good luck,” Adrian said dismissively, “and now I have to find a new player.”


“I’m going to have to bow out of the game for a while too,” I explained.


“Why?”


“I’m starting college,” I said, “and a new job.”


Adrian wrinkled his nose, “Hey! I’m working, going to school and getting more pussy than you’ve ever dreamed about.”


“I dunno about that, I can dream a lot.”


“Anyway...” Gordon took this moment to shake each of our hands, “I figure I’ll finish basic training early. I’ve been practicing my push ups and reading Mac Bolan novels.”


I cleared my throat, “I don’t think...”


“Don’t,” Daniel silenced me with a gesture, “it’s not worth it.”







Click Here To Continue


Friday, December 24, 2010

(Recommended Reads) DEADISH by Naomi Kramer

 

“LOOK,” I said, cutting across yet another plea, “You’re dead. You need to accept that.”

“But -”

“No. Stop pretending to be alive. It’s stupid. It’s creepy. Now GO. THE. HELL. AWAY.”

She crossed her arms and stared at me.

“Never.”

I rolled my eyes. Women! Can’t live with ‘em, can’t escape even by killing ‘em...

 

click here to read the rest

(Recommended Reads) WINTER'S BRIDE by Icy Sedgwick

Marianne huddles in the corner. Only her hands and nose are visible beneath the heap of moth-eaten blankets in which she swathes herself. The December chill seeps through the old fabric, sinking into her bones. A stub remains of her last candle, and she holds her hands either side of the flickering flame, anxious for warmth...

 

click here to read the rest

(Recommended Reads) THE MANY PATHS by Leila

I'm a drifter, a squatter. I have no life of my own. I hear it happens sometimes; a soul gets displaced, and is able to wander about between realities to see every possible life he or she could have had. If it sounds glamorous, I can tell you that it's most certainly not. You never feel... comfortable, in a life. Or maybe it's just me, because I found love and searched through so many lives to find my happy ending. I'm still searching...

 

click here to read the rest

Let's All Have A PATRICK SWAYZE CHRISTMAS!!

Merry Christmas Everyone! And now a video to make your mind explode.

(Insane News) Drunk Driver Caught With 15 Sheep In His Car

East London - A drunk motorist was arrested near Queenstown in the Eastern Cape after allegedly being found to be 32 times over the alcohol limit, the department of transport said on Thursday... Five boys and a woman, who were also in the vehicle with 15 sheep allegedly stolen from nearby farms, were also arrested.

 

click here to read the full story

Thursday, December 23, 2010

The trailer for Kevin Smith's RED STATE

1 comment:

TWITCH FILMS shares with us a Christmas Greeting from the producers of HUMAN CENTIPEDE

There's wrong, there's wrong and then there's this.

 

 

TWITCHfilm will blow your mind!

GEEKS OF DOOM brings us an animated adaption of Neil Gaiman's 'Nicholas Was...'

Today we have for you a brief but very cool little video from the talented folks over at 39 Degrees North, a motion graphics studio from Beijing. The short is a video Christmas card adaptation of the Neil Gaiman poem, Nicholas Was…, and it mixes his dark words with equally dark yet truly beautiful animations...

 

No comments:

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Fifty Six

On the 12th day of Christmas her true love gave her twelve drummers drumming. Now it was just getting weird.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Fifty Five

You better watch out, you better not cry you better not pout I'm telling you why, because we'll put you on Prozac.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Fifty Four

On the 11th day of Christmas her true love gave her eleven pipers piping. It gave the four calling birds feelings of inadequacy.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Fifty Three

The angel showed Karl what the world would be if he had never existed The only difference was Justin Beiber worked at Burger King.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Fifty Two

On the 10th day of Christmas her true love gave her ten lords a leaping. A must for any DOCTOR WHO fan.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Fifty One

Little Joey wondered why every day couldn't be Christmas. “Because,” Dad said, “I'd be broke.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Fifty

On the 9th day of Christmas her true love gave her nine ladies dancing. Not the kind of thing you want in a studio apartment.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty Nine

Santa brought granddad some natural male enhancement drugs and Viagra to help him through the long hard winter.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty Eight

On the 8th day of Christmas her true love gave her eight maids a milking. Not really, he just gave her a DVD of German porn.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty Seven

They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games. So he sued their discriminating asses.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty Six

On the 7th day of Christmas her true love gave her seven swans a swimming. Now things were moving into Hoarders territory.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty Five

Strange magic brought a centurion to the modern age and gifted him with ice powers. Soon all would learn to fear Frosty the Roman.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty Four

On the 6th day of Christmas her true love gave her six geese a laying. Again with the birds!

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty Three

On December eve after falling asleep in a brothel, Abner Deggent was visited by the ghosts of Syphilis past, present and future.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty Two

On the 5th day of Christmas her true love gave her five gold rings. He'd found all kinds of bargains at Mr. T's garage sale.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty One

Taking a hint from Bruce Wayne, Jolly St. Nick created Santa Incorporated so he could spend more time romancing sexy cat burglars.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Forty

On the 4th day of Christmas her true love gave her four calling birds. But then the neighbors complained about the noise.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Thirty Nine

The Muse opened her gift from Captain Hero. “Underwear?” she asked. “Take the hint,” he replied. She blushed and crossed her legs

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Thirty Eight

On the 3rd day of Christmas her true love gave her three French hens. They were delicious.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Thirty Seven

Captain Mendelbaum and his Kosher Commandos drew their laser guns, it was time to show these aliens a real festival of lights.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Thirty Six

On the 2nd day of Christmas her true love gave her two turtle doves, making it clear who was behind the recent pet store robberies.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Thirty Five

Christmas... Kwanzaa... Hanukkah... the Winter Solstice- just to be fair Larry drank through all of them.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Thirty Four

On the 1st day of Christmas her true love gave her a partridge in a pear tree. The sicko had stapled it to one of the branches!

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Eight Hundred And Thirty Three

“I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus- and you really don't want to know what Uncle Roy was doing with that elf.”

All I Want For Christmas Is A Clean Rap Sheet

All I Want For Christmas Is A Clean Rap Sheet
a tale from the Binder Of Shame
by
Al Bruno III

(The following is a mostly true story)


2010 has been a rough year. 2010 has seen setbacks financial and personal. In 2010 my wife and daughter became seriously ill (they’re better now). In 2010 my place of employment shifted its focus from customer service to issuing increasingly bizarre and conflicting directives to its employees. It was a year that our cars regularly broke down and we frequently found ourselves trying to decide between the power bill and the food bill.

Yeah, 2010 was a real bastard of a year and the week before Christmas it delivered the roughest blow yet.

It was a Friday evening, my missus was scrap booking and my daughter was playing video games. I naturally was updating my blog in the hopes that people are still reading this nonsense.

Around eleven o’clock my daughter asked me if we could do something together. She’s ten now and I think we are both becoming aware that time and adolescence would soon come between us. I knew she wanted to go to see the new Yogi Bear movie but I really hate movies of its kind. In many ways I am still recovering from my viewing of Alvin And The Chipmunks 2, a film I can only describe as the cinematic equivalent of being beaten with a club made from stale frosting.

“Hey,” I said, “instead of the movies why don’t we go out for ice cream? Heck we can even bring the dogs along for fun and give them some French fries.”

My daughter loved the idea for its fun and spontaneity. My wife loved the idea for the peace and quiet.

We all piled into the car; my daughter was in the front seat, my two dogs were in the back. Yours truly was in the driver’s seat. I allowed my daughter to choose the radio station and as we headed out for the local Sonic I pondered what the sensation of feeling ‘Like a G6’ might be like.

Since I was a middle aged nerd I assumed I never would know and contented myself to know what it was like to play Dungeons & Dragons and feel ‘Like a D6’.

Before we could reach our destination flashing blue lights filled my rearview mirror. For a moment I hoped it might be a UFO filled with green skinned women looking for good breeding stock but sadly it was only a police car.

I pulled over into a nearby parking lot and waited. My daughter was full of worries and questions but I assured her everything was all right. The officer that approached my car was tall, he reminded me of a cross between country music singer Travis Tritt and futuristic killing machine The Terminator. The dogs barked and whined as he drew closer.

The conversation we had was a variation of one I had shared with police officers many times over the years.

He asked, “Do you know you have a headlight out?”

I replied, “Uhm...”

He nodded, “And your registration expired four months ago.”

“Uh... whoops?” Despite the cool December weather I suddenly began to feel very warm.

My daughter must have realized I was floundering so she chimed in, “It’s not my Daddy’s fault. He’s bi-polar!”

Ah, the insanity defense. A clever move but it was a little too early in the game for that. The police officer asked me for my drivers license and I gave it to him. He paused for a moment to make sure that the chunky ragged looking man before him matched the chunky ragged looking man in the picture. Then he went back to his car.

We waited for what seemed like a very long time. My daughter and I talked about what was happening and why there was nothing to be scared about.

Then the police officer asked me to step out of the vehicle so we could talk privately. I wondered if he might be one of my 100+ blog subscribers, if he was I promised myself I would graciously give him the requested autographs.

He looked me in the eye and said, “Mr. Bruno you have an outstanding arrest warrant.”

“Outstanding?” I croaked. An arrest warrant didn’t sound very outstanding at all; in fact it sounded pretty Goddamn upsetting. I couldn’t think of a single solitary thing I had done to earn an arrest warrant. I wondered if he had me confused with another Al Bruno. A Google search of my name finds a mobster, a porn star and my Dad. Suspicious characters one and all.

“I don’t have the complete information yet but it has to do with a worthless check you wrote,” he explained, “apparently the debt was never addressed and the matter was brought to the magistrate.”

I looked back to my car, to my daughter and my dogs, none of them were going to take this very well. “So what happens now?”

“Before I arrest you is there anyone that can pick up your child and pets?”

“Sure, my wife.”

“You can call her if you like.”

“I don’t have a cell phone,” I blushed at the admission. As our finances had gone into the toilet the cell phones had been the first thing to go.

The officer called my wife for me and my missus and her best friend got there shortly. My daughter began to freak out as she realized her father was about to be taken away in the back of a police car. The dogs started to freak out as they realized they weren’t going to be getting any fries.

I told my missus to stay calm and take care of our little one. I promised to call her as soon as this was over.

The police officer waited until my wife and daughter were gone before he put the handcuffs on me, something I will always be grateful to him for. He also carefully frisked me, something I will always have mixed feelings about.

Then it was into the back of the car and off to the county courthouse/ police station.

It all became very real at that point, a kind of cold feeling settled into my stomach. Much like getting one of my novels published, this arrest was not something I had ever anticipated happening in my lifetime.

Once we got to the courthouse slash police station I was placed in a holding cell roughly the size of the cubicle I occupied at work. A desperate wondering of what in the Hell had gone wrong with my life filled my mind. Oddly enough this was also what went through my mind when I was in my cubicle at work.

After a short time my arresting officer came to retrieve me. “Wow, those things really do smell like pee,” I joked.

The look I got told me that this was a joke that should never be made in situations like this but there has always been a part of my mind that makes me say just the wrong thing.

Mug shots followed, then after that it was explained to me that this was all over a hundred dollar check that had been written a little over a year ago. To a veterinarian of all things. Apparently my warrantt had fallen through the cracks when the county had gone from paper records to computerized records.

Lucky me.

Once the paperwork was done it was off to the magistrate where I enjoyed more waiting and paperwork. Then I was free to go.

It was roughly 1 AM when I called home.

Well actually I tried to call home but all there was for me to use was pay phones and I had no change and no way to get change.

I was all alone, in front of the county courthouse/ police station, it was a cold December night and I was nine miles from home. I started walking.

I really didn’t plan to walk all the way home but I couldn’t find a pay phone or sympathetic late night business to help me out. So I kept on walking. I thought about my court date for the check and then my next court date for the expired registration. It looked like I wouldn’t be buying much Doctor Who merchandise this January either.

About two-thirds of the way home my wife found me, rather than wait for my call she had headed out for the courthouse as soon as she had gotten her best friend to watch my daughter.

Then she had gotten lost and I was gone by the time she had found the place.

I climbed in her car and we started heading home. When I explained to my missus about the check in question she started crying a little. She remembered the check in question even though I didn’t, and she blamed herself because she had asked me to write it.

My missus was really worried that this was going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, that I was going to leave her.

I laughed reassuringly, “Honey. I was only imprisoned for twenty minutes, after eighteen years of marriage to you that’s nothing.”

Then she really started crying. See what I mean about always saying the wrong thing?

I will leave the rest of the story to your imagination; the tearful reunion with my very worried daughter, the angry glares from my French fry denied pets and the futon I ended up sleeping on thanks to my smart mouth.

It is just a few days before the end of the year now and I am worried there is one more disaster waiting for me in the wings. I am worried 2011 will be even crueler than the year before. The one thing I am not worried about is the supposed Mayan Apocalypse coming in 2012.

At this point I say bring it on.





In The Shadow Of His Nemesis chapter ninety five

In The Shadow Of His Nemesis


Chapter Ninety Five


By AL BRUNO III




Saturday, December 4th 1996





One of his eyes had swollen shut, there was blood running from his nose, ears and scalp but the agony of his broken knee overwhelmed all.


Things certainly aren’t panning out the way I had hoped. Jason Magwier thought. If things don’t start going my way soon it could be the end of everything. And not in a good way.


The sound of the approaching helicopter was almost as loud as the ringing in Jason Magwier’s ears. He watched the sky with his good eye then let his glance flick to Mr. Sauno and Miss McGlade. She was watching everything, her attention darting here and there like a bird in strange territory, Mr. Sauno’s was waiting calmly but every once in a while he cast a sidelong glance towards his prisoners. His expression wasn't smug merely anticipatory.


Jason couldn’t see a way out of this, at least not yet.


His gift of remembering what the future might be had brought him here to a tomb of the dark gods. Laurel House was where Damiea rested in seclusion, not truly dead and not truly alive.


The dark gods loved doing things like that.


Jason had seen the fall of Laurel House coming but he had seen Galen as well. He had hoped to convince the turncoat prince to join the war against the Monarchs but it had soon become obvious that the man was only interested in saving his own hide.


I should have left then, Zeth had almost demanded it.


But by the night after the dinner party Magwier had started to sense something else coming, something as powerful as it was fragile.


Something that could change everything.


A cough rose up from Magwier’s gut, it brought a foul taste into his mouth. Internal bleeding? He wondered. Not good.


Still though he’d been worse, Hell he’d been dead more times than he cared to remember.


The helicopter lowered out of the clouds sending squalls of snow flying everywhere. An image filled Magwier’s mind, he saw himself hopping through the snow looking gruesome and ridiculous all at once.


Oh my. He realized. Oh my my my my.


He gave Galen a nudge and whispered, “When I say run, run.”


The turncoat prince stayed silent.


A single shot rang out. The rotor on the helicopter's tail section literally fell apart sending the craft into a lurching spin. Some of the donnrup panicked and took to the air but most of them, as well as all the drones, were caught in the path of the falling helicopter.


It hit the ground with a squealing crash, the main rotor went flying. Magwier screamed at Galen to run and then made a break for the treeline. Every few hops he landed on his wounded leg and his face was going gray from the pain of it.


Jason Magwier heard the sounds of gunfire and pursuit.






Click Here To Continue


Wednesday, December 22, 2010

The Christmas Stories Of Al Bruno III

 

Blood And Tinsel

"Howdy"

"Salutations."

"Sorry I'm late."

"It wasn't unexpected. Shall we initiate our offensive? The malefactors have already appeared on the scene."

"What?"

"Our targets are in the shopping enclosure."

"Again, what?"

"The shopping enclosure."

"The mall?"

"Yes."

"Ok. USA. Mall. Teamed up with a stiff board to kill crazy bastards. Got it."

"Marvelous. Now, can we begin?"

"Sure. Just one thing."

"What?"

"What was your name again?"...

 

Click Here To Read The Rest

 

 

Acquainted With The Night

 

The cry still rung in his ears.

 

 

Alone in the half light, he stared down at the tiny form between his boots. Its mouth was frozen in mid hiss, its almond shaped eyes were cold and accusing. Raindrops matted its sleek, black fur; its front paws were stretched out, the muscles locked in mid rake. Somewhere, a few blocks away, a band began to play the pounding of drums and blare of trumpets counter-pointing the incessant rhythm of the rainstorm.

 

 

He thought again of the sound that had brought him here – so terrified, so human.

 

 

Flicking wet hair from his face, he knelt. Bad enough the poor thing had to die here among garbage; he would make certain that it was not disposed of as garbage. He tried to take the tiny corpse in his hands but the kitten crumbled into nothing at a touch...

 

Click here to read the rest

 

 

Merry Christmas To All And To All A Good Fight

 

Some superheroes patrolled the River city by leaping from rooftop to snowy rooftop, others flew and some just sat by a police scanner and waited; Captain Hero kept River City safe from behind the wheel of his specially modified taxicab. The red and white taxi made its way through the snowy streets, its headlights glinting off the Christmas decorations that marked every lamppost and window front...

 

click here to read the rest

Apologies to readers of IN THE SHADOW OF HIS NEMESIS...

Holiday chaos and setbacks have me running behind schedule on this project, this weeks chapter should be ready soon.

Sorry.