Lately, I’ve been posting very short stories as statuses on Facebook. Some of them are true, some of them are not. I’ve been doing it every Wednesday, and I’m thinking I may do it here as well, in the interest of keeping them in a more permanent location.
Here are the most recent two:
For a very brief period, I lived in a small Texas town called Tyler. One night, a UFO landed somewhere in the rural outskirts. To fit in with the locals, I joined them in a pickup truck to go searching for it. We drove down dark, winding, unpaved roads, our search fruitless. At one point, the driver turned to me and said, anything happens there’s a shotgun at your feet. Indeed there was, but I’ve never fired a gun before, and all I could think about was how I kissed Jean good…bye and promised to come back, but I didn’t know if I would. What kind of movie was this? In some films, the dude with the love interest survives. In others, he’s killed for dramatic effect. What kind of movie was this. Was this the kind where aliens exist? Or was this the kind where my newly acquired redneck friends lure me into the wilderness and chop me into chili?
I once submitted a story to a “for the love” market where they promised payment in exposure.
“I love attention!” I thought and enthusiastically awaited their response.
Three months later a helicopter landed on the roof of my house and a voice over a bullhorn said, “We’re pleased to announce that we will accept your story for publication. Are you prepared for the exposure we offer?”
“I love attention,” I thought and climbed aboard.
We flew over a desert wasteland where they handed me a canteen and threw me to the nearest dune. There I wandered, confused, scared, parched.
I drank from the canteen. Vodka.
Hours later I was drunk, hot, and lying in a pool of sweat, fully exposed to the wrath of Ra.
“I love attention,” I slurred as Ra came down from heaven, arms and eyes aflame. Then, “K-kill muh-me…”