Recent Comments

1. about 18 hours ago on Cul de Sac

   To unicorn or not to unicorn, that is the question.

   Weird? What is normal?

2. about 18 hours ago on Cul de Sac

   You talkin’ to me? :)

3. about 19 hours ago on Skin Horse

   Hee hee, who does that remind you of?

4. about 19 hours ago on Scary Gary

   Two peas in a pod, there.

5. about 19 hours ago on The Argyle Sweater

   They don’t live in a monastery, but in a groanastery.

6. about 19 hours ago on Sarah's Scribbles

   Sooooooo many feels….

7. about 19 hours ago on Crabgrass

   Accept their fate? Why do I get the feeling the boys will do anything but that? Freak out in 3, 2, 1…

8. 1 day ago on Frog Applause

   How could he maintain his sanity and his will to live? How could he endure to prove them all wrong, and to finally make his mother’s life a bit less brutal and undignified? He didn’t really want to hurt anyone; sure it would be great to see them choke on their words, but all he really wanted was to be away from there and to be done with their tedious banality. He had trouble seeing a way out, a way through it all, though. Some days he could barely even get out of bed; didn’t feel like eating or even breathing much. There must be something to break this stifling oppression? But what, his mother could do nothing but try and comfort him, his counselors were indifferent, even the holy man in town seemed to brush him off as delusional.

   It was already three a.m., his alarm would be sounding soon, and another day of dread would begin. He had worried the night away with little chance of sleeping now, so he lie there in the silence and stared at the plastered walls, his nightlight casting light upon the trowel textured valleys and hills of his bedroom landscape. If he let himself stare dreamily without intent, it would often morph into a village or metropolis scene and he could amuse himself with the goings on. He almost thought he could hear someone speaking. Wait, was that his mother’s voice? No, surely she was still asleep, and it was clearly coming from inside the room. Very small, at first, and it sounded like it was trying to get his attention. What was it saying? So hard to make out.

   Here? Is that what it was saying?

   Help? No, it was something more.

   He pressed his ear against the cold stucco wall.

   Something something help moo?

   What? I replied, startling myself.

   I Can Help You!

9. 1 day ago on Frog Applause

   Mama

   Yes, my son.

   I don’t feel well.

   All dressed and ready for his first day at school, Junior, while feeling rather natty in his new duds, was tied in knots with apprehension. The Pepto-Bismal hadn’t helped, and now he feels a bit woozy, almost as if his oatmeal with cinnamon maggots were about to make a reappearance.

   No matter how many times mother coached him, or how many bullying scenarios they play acted out, he just couldn’t shake this sense of impending doom, like the world was closing in on him, like he was falling down a well, like he was a toothpick boy inside an overstuffed marshmallow suit. Only his mother’s embrace would tamp down the terror, keep his heart from pounding through his chest, stop the uncontrolled sweating so it wouldn’t ruin his new onesie. How would he ever make it through the day? Stuffed inside a locker? Run up the flagpole by his underwear? Getting pants’d in the lunchroom?

   Running through the endless scenarios only made it worse, of course. The teachers didn’t even seem to care, either, in fact, he swore they purposely turned the other way. Wasn’t the school motto All for One and One for All? All their kind only, it seemed. That he was smarter than they, even most of the teachers, didn’t help the situation. It was no comfort to see through their ignorant, petty ways and to pity them in their plight. He felt he had to constantly hide away who he was, what he was capable of, to the point that he often doubted who he really was or if it all was worth it. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on like this. He feared he might just wither away and die, or worse yet, lash out in frightened anger and reveal what he tried so hard to keep hidden from them. It wouldn’t matter how incredible his talent was, they would only use it as fodder to further ostracize and belittle him. And where would he be then? What would he have achieved? No, better to keep it to himself, but this withering pain was so much to bear.

10. 1 day ago on Cul de Sac

    It’s a small price to pay for the bliss of being unbothered, Petey, but it won’t work if you don’t use it.

    Little Miss Grabbyhands is about to pilfer the unicorn, and the unicorn does not look pleased!