Routine
IMG_0418 by Abigail Batchelder | Flickr
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by Richard Leise (1010 Words) A toddler falls from a balcony. It takes a moment—there is no commotion, no gathering crowd; there is, after looking up, no sound—but in time (you slowly walk closer until, incredibly, you make out impossible human features, a leg uncertainly angled) you realize that the girl isn’t a garbage bag, that she isn’t a pile of clothing and that, somehow, there, on the sidewalk, like a cat struck by a car, is a child, and not just any child, but that little girl who waves every morning on your walk to work.
That she’s alive? This doesn’t cross your mind. Earlier. The municipal parking lot is empty, and the hillsides, low to the ground, blur smoky blue with nightfall’s watery definition. |
Dakota Travis, Saurallero Extraordinaire
Today, we mourn the passing of Dakota "Trike" Travis, at the age of ninety-seven-years-young. Trike was a loving family man, legendary animal wrangler and stuntman, and perhaps best known to the public for his saurallero achievements on Chengillon. In addition to his long and storied career behind the scenes in Hollywood, Travis assisted with great strides in scientific enquiry into, communication with, and shepherding of the dinosaur inhabitants of Chengillon.
Travis was born in western Colorado on one of the few remaining twenty-third century horse ranches. Family legend claims Travis was born in the stables themselves, though his biographers suspect this may be an exaggeration. Growing up in such an environment, his pursuits naturally turned to animal wrangling, from which he made his career. |
by Dawn Vogel (593 Words) 
Triceratops by Miroslav Petrasko | Flickr
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The Megamolecular Diamond Destabilizer
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by Charlie Rogers (1998 Words) If I’m being honest, this is not how I expected my day to go.
I regain consciousness in a place that is not my hotel room, with my hands fastened behind my back, strapped to a frigid metal chair. I’m in my tighty-whities and the rest of my clothes are very much missing. Looking around, I find my girlfriend, Amelia, next to me, unconscious and bound in the same fashion, but she’s wearing winter hiking gear. Did I get that for her? We always plan to take hiking trips more or ever. I’m an aspirational gift-giver, so, maybe? I give my head a quick shake. Focus. I peer down. A mass of ropes binds my feet together, and I squirm against the cords binding my hands behind me. My legs have turned a little blue, never a spectacular sign. I don’t mind the underwear but they leave me... exposed. |
Doggerel [ daw-ger-uhl ] adj. 1. (of verse) comic or burlesque, and usually loose or irregular in measure. 2. rude; crude; poor. |
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one tiny elephant
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