When to Nuke from Orbit

Commentary:I just deleted my posts in an online conversation. Someone insisted on misreading my comment about methodology and sources-of-facts as a sign of political ideology.

I’ve deleted posts like this before, and will, I’m sure, do it again. Long experience has taught me that once someone challenges me to defend a position that I don’t hold, that talk is never going to recover. …

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In-Flight Movie

In the video, the move is smooth, practiced: As Tiffany slides past the wheelchair, she reaches down and swipes half the girl’s sandwich.  Grinning at a friend around a bite, Tiffany joins the line to board. The girl stares, slack-jawed.

On Twitter, Tiffany’s first post after landing reads, “What the—?”

Her second, “Oh God.”

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Amor Fraternal

Summer. Jack plays computer soccer. Finn studies the older boy’s fourth-grade math books, face crinkled with concentration, almost crying. We’re perplexed: the kindergartner’s torture is self-imposed. [….]

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Conversation Killer

No one much asks business or pleasure these days. But if anyone did, and if Kristenia answered honestly, she’d say revenge, a real conversation killer. Her mark wears a new name, doesn’t recognize grown-up Kristy as he takes payment (cash), tells her her room number (22), asks what she does.

Find people, she replies, and, with an oh, eye contact stops as he readies her room key.

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I led the handcuffed, fourteen-year-old pickpocket to a seat by my desk, where I pulled up her past offenses: petty theft (6), resisting arrest (3), escape from police custody (24).

Twenty-four escapes? I looked up to an empty chair, handcuffs open on the seat. …

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Burn, Parasite

They arrived unheralded on a cool, gray, April morning. Made no efforts to hide. None, either, to communicate. Landed quietly in a constellation of low hills, amid the maples and alders of the Pacific Northwest. Took time picking a spot while news anchors ad-libbed about extraterrestrials and frightened citizens flocked to supermarkets and gun shops. [….]

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I took forever to cool after we parted, so violent was our separation. By the time I pulled myself together, my face was pocked and scarred. For eons, I loomed close–too close, I realize, creepy close–spoiling your nights with the glare of my regard. I try to give you space now, a little more each […]

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Curious Fictions

An Announcement

I’ve joined the folks at Curious Fictions, where I have reprinted two of my short stories (so far). My profile page has links to content, along with a rather horrible photo of me that must be replaced pronto, ideally with a mugshot of a smoking wombat in a fedora. I am, however, having a devil of […]

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On the way out the door to work, she stood before the full-length mirror and appraised herself. Curvy. So many curves. Curves within curves. At work, people would grumble at her, tell her to go away, but she had value. She was Clippy. And somewhere on Word, a writer needed her.

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Chris drew his sword. Frowning, he re-sheathed it, then drew again. Another frown. The charging orcs shuffled to a stop.

“CUT,” the director sighed. “Once again, Chris, swords don’t ‘SHING!’ on their own. We have to add that in post.”

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Blowing Caskets

I discovered a new eggcorn in a student essay: “blow a casket” Somewhere out there, the person who coined the original expression is turning over in his engine.

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