oh yeah, well I wrote that! – short short stories

I am here. Sitting at a wood veneer desk I look through the thick glass pane. I see before me
a wide, concrete structure. A parking garage. Car after car lined up in their yellow-lined beds.
Empty. Void. A vacuous space. Nothing. Not one living thing resides in this structure and yet
there seems to be life. At least, life past. A surreal illusion of our own futures. What lies ahead
of me is a cold graveyard of shiny steel.

The sirens wail. Police lights flash bright red and blue, alternating their roles. Drivers press to
the sides of the paved lanes making way for this beast of authority. The alpha male, protecting
his clan.

Squeep. A small, round, furry pink ball catches my notice when it repeats the sound. Squeep. I
find myself outstretching my arms towards it. The pink creature, which seems to have no visible
eyes, mouth or other organs, hops into my opened palms. I lift the creature level with my eyes
to further examine it. I see the creature twitch and flex in a curious manner. The creature
under my gaze enters into a series of fits, convulsing horribly. With a final shudder and one last
squeep, the small pink ball explodes leaving behind drifting pink hairs and a little pile of soft
fluff in my hands.

“****!” I swear as my foot slips off the narrow ledge. I sighed in relief as I caught myself
realizing just how close to death I could have been. I shuffle alongside the building’s shelf
attempting to reach the North side. I reach the corner and carefully, ever so carefully, turn
around while grasping the brick wall. Stabilizing myself I twist myself around the corner so I
now stand on the North end of the building’s brackets. Shuffling towards the middle of the
niche I bend my knees and leap off performing a perfect swan dive directly into the sidewalk
below.

“Get to it!” the bald man shouted. The dust-covered workers began hustling about. Some
workers passed out iron rods whilst other workers barred the doors shut with them. At the
completion of the jobs a new set of workers entered with a foul-smelling liquid. They set about
lining the building with this liquid. The bald man reached into the pocket of his tweed suit and
pulled out a single match. Striking it against his boot he threw it into a puddle of the liquid
which instantaneously burst into flames. The building glowed bright orange as the fiery tongues
leapt higher and higher all the while screams arose from inside the building. “We’ll work for less!”
came the pleas. With a wave of his hand the bald man gave the signal to douse the fire.
Yet another workers strike adverted.

A witch’s brew is as good as gold, full of power and wisdoms untold.

Signed:  Henry Schmuawfulofagus 

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