Danny was just a kid when he found a useless copy of how to be successful. He was now old and on his death bed and he said to the nurse that he liked the flowers his friends had brought him. The nurse hid a tear as no one had come to visit the man and the flowers belonged to his roommate who was recovering. An arrangement with lavender and tulips which his family had brought him. Beep beep beeeeeeeeep Danny flatlined and died. At Danny’s funeral, alone in his casket he thought it was quite dark. Murmurs, thuds, silence. Silence some more and for a long time a long while until one day Danny saw light. This is the world now? Danny thought, he was so small under the sky. Danny grew into a mighty Elm tree over many years. He sat for many years and then once again turned into dirt after the city chopped him down to make way for powerlines. What an odd place to put powerlines, right through a cemetery. So Danny turned to dirt again unable to shape the world around him but lived with the worms then was eaten by a bird and was born into a bird. Danny stood at the edge of the nest and his mom pushed him out. Danny needed to fly he flapped his wings and he flew he soared through the air like an airplane. That’s why his bird brothers and sisters called him airplane Danny because he flew like an airplane. No, they didn’t call him that either they can’t speak because they are birds but Danny did learn to sing like a bird. Danny had a bird family. Then one day Danny was shot from the air by a shotgun spray and he was eaten for dinner by man. Lucky Danny was eaten and then became a part of this man and the man had a wife and they had a baby and Danny could think again. Danny couldn’t remember where he came from but he knew he had been alive before. He grew into a young person and he suddenly remembered how to be successful, so he sang the songs of birds and was successful and he had many friends and a great big family and on his death bed there were flowers and they were his.
It was raining and cold. Bob had the flu. He sat in his tiny apartment, nothing on the walls, bleak with his blanket and hot tea. He took a sip of his blanket and pulled his tea closer for warmth. He heard a knock at his door. “Who the heck is that?” Bob thought, slightly alarmed for he seldom had visitors. He got up and peered through his peep hole. It was a woman wearing a sexy Christmas elf costume. Needless to say, Bob opened the door. Then Bob became beaten and robbed swiftly. The End.
Leonard stood in front of the mirror after his shower in nothing but a towel. The towel was yellow. What kind of man was he? He needed to shave his neck. His glasses were big. Like an owl’s eyes. He took those off. He turned his head and looked at himself out of the corner of his eye. “Hmm. I sure do look dignified from the side.”
He straightened his head and looked into his reflection’s eyes. He had a unibrow. His eyes were green. He stared. Trying to figure himself out as he would a stranger. What was the person in the mirror thinking? That should have been obvious to him. Then he drew it. An unexpected reaction. Then it was gone. In a second. Too fast to recollect. There was a hammering on the door.
“Leonard! I need to shit!”
Leonard opened the bathroom door and his little brother pushed his way in then slammed the door with Leonard in the hall. He heard the porcelain tap of the toilet seat gone down followed by a very loud and ungodly flatulence. Like a demon escaping Hell after half of eternity.
Leonard went into his bedroom and put on some clothes. Blue and green patterned board shorts and a white T-shirt. He didn’t have any big plans for the day. He was closing at work and didn’t need to be there until evening. He walked into the kitchen to make some breakfast. First, he opened the sliding glass door to the balcony. It was a beautiful and clear sunny fall day with a healthy breeze blowing off the ocean. The white caps breaking the deep blue. The sun was warm. A light coat.
He began to cook some eggs. He scrambled them today with some onions and mushrooms. A small amount cheese. Some orange juice. His brother joined him.
The night twisted and the hills were black. Rain fell in sheets as it does in buffeting storms. A window glows. The shack is nestled in the valley at the end of the street. Cobblestone. Shining cobblestone. Slippery and ancient reflecting the streetlamps. Thunder rolls as lightning splits the shrouded seams of heaven. The wind howled a shrill and violent tune. The ocean wreathed with schisms of reckless waves. To be safe and dry in the gale.
In that window.
In that window a man sat eating salt fish. Munching away in delight. There was a fire in the grate. For desert, a piece of rum cake. The radio played softly, funky reggae music. All was right with the world.