A lonely planet dances in its trail around the sun, its only companion a gray moon dragging along beside it. The other planets have many moons accompanying them – the little orbs seem to flood around them. Well, apart from those two planets, Mercury and Venus, but they’ve got enough in themselves and the sunrays.
“If only I were Jupiter,” the lonely planet thinks, “with a mass and gravitation larger than all the combined planets, and still so beautiful and light, consisting only of swirling gasses and winds. Or if I cannot be a Jupiter, let me be one of its moons.” Continue reading
”Why is this such a big deal?” Billy’s arms crossed over his green rain jacket and the material screeched with every movement. “It was a game and he wanted to play.”
The woman across the table had her hair in a high knot and there were glasses on her pointy nose. With her lips pursed she looked like she’d release a tongue, snatch him like a fly and eat him.
“Are you sure Geoffry wanted to play a game like that?”
Billy wiped his nose with a hand and dried it in his rain jacket. Screech. “He always wants to play with us. That’s all he ever says. ‘Can I play with you, can I play with you, I’m a really good pirate’. But you can’t be a pirate if you’re in a wheelchair!” Continue reading
The letter you wrote me was sweet as cherry, and so was the mark of your lips, which particularly startled my heart. I’ll cherish it, always.
I hope one day to see your real lips, but that day will not be after I slay the dragon that has imprisoned you – because I will do no such thing.
Here’s an idea: slay the dragon yourself. There’s probably a bunch of swords laying around. Perhaps the dragon uses them as toothsticks. Use one of those. Continue reading
We saved our little world and of course that was great. People who would have been cold in their grave, or too torn apart for just one grave, went about their lives, complaining over late hours, incompetent staff and cold dinners.
We did a lot of good, the seven of us, but it felt wrong. Every day was a rosebush in my heart, each victim saved a beautiful flower and each word from my comrades a thorn. Inside my heart.
The worst kind of thing was like when a hishi spirit came towards me and I knew that now, now was when I’d die. Continue reading
Once, she did not sleep.
Each hour was a task, a map to be laid out, every corner and stone turned.
There was never enough and still she seemed to have most time of us all.
One morning we found her sick and left her to do her own healing.
When she was well she told me she’d “never known sleep was so great”. She’d discovered its merit.
Now she was well I’d see her leaning on the counter with a distant look. She dreamt of sleep. She imagined not knowing what she knew and what a blessing it might be. She slept six, eight, ten hours.
It was wondrous.
There were no dreams and that was the best part. A short time of non existence, of oblivion. A small time of death.
She slept ten, eleven, twelve hours.
We told her she was getting lazy. She answered “merely inspired.”
Now she sleeps twenty hours.
Tomorrow I think we’ll realize we have not seen her for twenty four and we’ll wait for the day she wakes up to tell us how delightful her nap was before going back to drown in the covers.
And I envy her.
My girlfriend has the best breasts. They’re firm, yet yielding, and no matter how much I try I can’t hold all of one in a hand.
She comes to my apartment pretty often and she walks around in her underpants, no top, and her breasts bounce a little when she gets excited or reaches for something. If she was in a zoo I’d go to that zoo and I’d sit on a bench and stare at her through the glass forever.
I love her body – and she’s nice, too. She does all these weird little things, like, I work on Sundays, so on Mondays she calls me up and tells me whether the show I missed the day before was good or not so I won’t get disappointed. She’ll watch those shows, even if she’s not psyched on them herself, just to know what’s up with me. Continue reading
The stellar amount of books left me breath-taken, but even more impressive was the many people come to see them.
The Bella Center in Copenhagen was filled to bursting with publishers and the books they were pushing and I walked through all of it to get to my own publisher: Egolibris.
I was there because my Danish book, “Tidsfangen” – “The Time Prisoner”, had now been published.
On the way to our booth I realized how heavy the competition was and the Bella Center transformed into a battle field.
Egolibris’ booth was small and situated in front of the Book Cafés large stage. I was about to ask her if that was where I’d be reading aloud when she sighed and said:
“Unfortunately we’ve got this big stage in front of us, so an earlier author had to basically shout in order to be heard.”
I smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll steal them away,” I promised, confident in the boom of my voice, which was always remarked upon as being hard to ignore. Continue reading
My father lowered his wrinkled hand to the ashtray and put the cigarette out in a cloud of smoke that made it look as if he conjured it from thin air. He didn’t look up at me but kept budding the cigarette though it was dead already. I felt sorry for the cigarette that it should suffer my offense.
“In love,” he said, “is such a rhetorical thing.”
The statement was senseless on so many levels to me that I refused to respond. Such phrases were typical for this man who thought each of his words were a breath to be caught and saved in a container that would only be opened on priced occasions when one needed consoling wisdom. Continue reading
Cats are attracted to people who don’t like them. Many chase the cat around and try to stroke or hug it, but it’s the person who ignores it that catches its attention.
That’s the person into whose lab the cat crawls. Even if he or she has allergies.
And so it is with men.
“It’s too bad Cobalamine is already used for a vitamin. It would make such a cool name.”
Julie stops mid-kitchen with the baking plate and makes a disgusted face in my direction before she remembers that baking plates are hot and puts down the nachos. Her big earrings jiggle when she shakes her head.
“Just listen to the word alone.”
She giggles. “I hope you never have babies.” Continue reading
Marvil threw his pink shirt on the bed.
His wife looked up from where she was nestled under the covers, with the pillows stacked up behind her and a book titled ‘all about pickling’ in her hands.
“Okay. Fine. I give up.”
“What’s wrong?” He assumed the amusement in her tone was meant to tease him but it just caused more frustration.
“I have nothing to wear tomorrow.” He lifted up the red shirt. “This is the best shirt I’ve got, but the color …”
She reached for it and looked at it, amazed. “Why do you even have it?”
“A friend got married in vegas.” Continue reading