Posts Tagged ‘humor’

Posted by smellanie at 11 April 2010

Category: prose, smellanie

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He didn’t have much to say to us beyond the word “goodbye”. Unspoken volumes were there in his eyes, and hung between us like a lantern with a slowly dying bulb. The longer he waited and lingered uncomfortably in the driveway, the less it seemed that there was anything left to say.

No one moved to touch him, to give him some final physical contact before he left. No one really wanted to, it seemed. He was really no longer welcome, and it appeared that everyone knew it.

“I’m…” he started to say, but then Mary shook her head as if to tell him to just stop.

He turned then, and folded himself into his impossibly small car. His red rubber nose no longer appeared as comical as it had when he arrived. He made a sweeping motion toward his chest with his left hand, and his small dog, which we had all but forgotten, jumped into his lap.

He closed the car door then, and put the vehicle in reverse with a heavy sigh.

I am sure he was disappointed that my mother did not offer him a tip, but honestly he had been lucky to leave our house without a broken leg. Because no one in my family tolerates a clown who shits on the living room carpet.

Posted by smellanie at 26 March 2010

Category: prose, smellanie, stuff

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Fucking pigs, thought Regina as she walked past the construction site.

She could feel their eyes on her from two blocks away.  Instantly, she had felt a deep rage build within her, rising up through her belly and constricting her throat with an amazing amount of force.

Now, now, she told herself.  You’ve got to calm down or it’s going to be so much worse.

She knew she was more noticeable when she was emotional.  If she could make herself devoid of emotion, it would be like being invisible.

Ten deep breaths later, she began again to walk towards the construction site, feeling herself growing more calm with each step.  She regulated her breathing so that its rhythym exactly matched that of her stride.  She even heard herself counting, in a soft voice, in her own head.

One…two…three…four…

The click of her heels on the pavement reminded her a little of a song she had heard earlier in the day, and another voice in her head began to hum it, while she still continued counting.

She felt herself beginning to smile, forgetting for a moment her drive to try and appear stoic and apathetic.  And then suddenly she realized, what the fuck how can there be two voices in my brain?

what?

huh…who are you?

I’m you, doofus!  Who else would I be!

I dunno…a ghost…or maybe another personality…

Can’t I be the Devil?

Well, sure, I don’t see why not, but seriously I don’t believe in that shit.

I know you don’t, duh.  I already told you I’m you.

Oh my god, I’m going fucking crazy!

Mostly likely, yes, but also, seriously, you should watch where you’re going.

When the construction workers finally noticed her five hours later, they wondered how they hadn’t seen her walk into the construction site.  She had, after all, fallen in a huge hole in the sidewalk and at least 20 feet into a tunnel they had dug under the street.  They concluded that she had to have been invisible, joking at first, but then later wondering if that really had been the case after all.  A few of them were even convinced that she had been invisible, but they didn’t share these opinions with their co-workers, but kept them locked up tight, for sharing only with spouses or mistresses, or even a gigalo in the case of Mrs. Jacobsen, late at night, just before sleep stole them away.

Oh, and it totally was the fucking Devil.  Awesome, huh?

Posted by smellanie at 27 January 2010

Category: comics, stuff

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nonsense: some of which rhymes is using WP-Gravatar