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A Box Full Of Fog

13Jun2018
There was always fog.  Morning, noon, and night.  Thick and cloying; it muted sounds, made of speech a buzz, coated the tongue, and reduced all colors to shades of grey.  Summer, winter, no season seemed to exist under the fog. He thought he recalled a time, perhaps when he was still a very young child, when the sun had shone freely on the city.  It was now little more than a vague, bright disc that did nothing to brighten the fog or to dry the droplets that condensed on his beard. The fog even made its way indoors. It was inescapable, and had been for years.  He was used to it now, and he assumed that everyone else was, too.
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1440

Moto-erotica

28Mar2018
I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I will say it again: if you are of delicate sensibilities, or are otherwise easily offended, I strongly caution you against reading any further.  I’m looking at you, Mom.
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, 1293

Looking for Trouble

16Apr2017
“Whoa! That’s it momma! Shake ‘em!”

The young woman in the tight black turtleneck stopped short, her head swiveling as she sought the source of the comment, a ready comeback on her lips. But it was late; the park was empty. No playgroups, worn-out moms and sugar-fueled kids. No perverts with hidden cameras videoing awkward first dates. Not even a derelict, half-drunk on cheap wine, polluting a bench. That last in particular was unusual for the time of night. She shrugged with a little shiver, and started to walk more slowly onward.

“That’s the stuff! Come on. Take me home with ya!”

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