The fly who loved me

The tale I tell is the truth. My vocabulary, not developed enough to express the injustice…  At first, it was  just a minor annoyance.  Like a fly that hovers around… like a stop light that won’t change… but this was no stop light, nor was this any ordinary fly. This was a fly with a vengeance. Where I went,  there he was, the fly in all his glory. It began with a loud buzzing in the ear, and through out the next seventy two hours, I was overpowered by the fly.  Oh I tried in every way to rid myself of this pernicious influence, but he would not give in, even to the most harmful of chemicals.    I was at my witts end, and determined to force death upon the fly. I took a bat and swung in his direction, but he managed to escape, it was as if  he found the  ordeal funny.  I could swear I heard him laugh.  He continued in a circular motion around me, buzzing loudly as if to mock.  Horrified at the intentions of this incendiary little pest, I,  without hesitation swung one last swing  before I was interrupted by the doorbell, which spared the fly seconds more of  life.  Once at the door, I was greeted by a salesman who’s eyes had protruded out of their sockets when he saw the ghastly horror that stood before him, and with a swift move of his right hand he proceeded to reach for the fly. Within seconds he had caught the fly, shook him, tossed him, and I watched with an ardent eye, the fly spin uncontrollable unto death. I cannot express the anger that came over me, for I was consumed with undescribable rage . The salesman had taken it upon himself to destroy my enemy, leaving me with an unfullfilled  longing which could not be satisfied… unless of course…which I did, pick up the brick, but it was the brick that made contact with the salesman’s head.  No fault of my own, was he found splattered on the pavement dead. I shall render the  arresting officer ludicrous should he attempt to charge me  instead of the brick with murder.  Maybe… you can help me.  I need a place to store the body I have money, I could pay!  FRANK SINATRA  , FRANK SINATRA, CAN YOU FLY ME TO THE MOON………………..

What an awesome God!

It was the early morning hour of Sept. 21, 2010, I found myself face to face with a mountain lion. I remembered in times such as these, I must not panic in order to survive. Although the lion escaped with 2-strands of my hair, I escaped with my life. Two hours later, I met up with a hyena, only to be swallowed alive, but as the hyena began to choke on me, another hyena began the heimlich maneuver, which made the first hyena spit me out 200 feet into a neighbors backyard, where I was viciously greeted by the homeowners german shepherd. The owner, Shotgun in hand, blasted me, not once, but three times, and into the swimming pool I plunged where I then proceeded to drown, but miraculously came back to life. What a great God we serve! What? You don’t believe me, but you believe Jonah was 3-days and 3- nights in the whales belly, and you believe Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego escaped the fiery furnace? Well, I tell you the truth, I’m recovering at the hospital, and again I say to you, WHAT AN AWESOME GOD WE SERVE…

The Question

With little or no success I found no known cure. I would continue to suffer from what is recognized as thanatophobia. Yes, YES, THE FEAR OF DEATH!  Day and night, night and day, I would  head toward a  future I so desperately wanted to flee. There was no end to this madness, no end to the question…  the question that would circumnavigate my brain. Hopeless in my efforts to deny it residency, the question made it’s home in the forefront of my mind but, this night, this night in particular, the question was relentless. This was a violation of my mind, a mutilation of the soul. And I spoke out for once, to all who would hear. “ Let every man, every woman stand as a witness against the question”. but no one came forth, I was forced to answer the question. YES, YES, THIS COULD BE THE NIGHT OF MY DEATH! And then another question followed. One that made me shudder more so then the first. Choose, choose what time of day you will die. Tell me, would you rather die in the morning, afternoon, or evening? Did the question have the power to kill the flesh? Oh I was in an awful mess, but I decided to answer the question. Very cunning was I in my response.  I said in no uncertain terms,  morning seems useless, for it serves no purpose to get a full nights sleep only to awake for death. Afternoon makes no sense, and evening, well I would’ve worked a days wages that death would make impossible to collect. Oh how shrewd I was with the answer.  WHAT ANSWER YOU ASK , well you caught me,  there was no answer only a response, but the question took no notice and I was free for the evening, I had defeated the question, and so decided  to celebrate. Yes a bottle of whiskey and a cigar would be  desired. I stopped at the nearby grocers. The length of time in line was more than I could bear. The agitation I was experiencing was much to much, for I hadn’t been out of my home in decades due to the question. Hurry up! I screamed at the cashier, as drops of sweat formed on my brow. I insist you ring me up at once, but she refused. Oh, how I needed a swig. I opened the whiskey and swallowed as much as half a pint. I sat the bottle on the counter and proceeded to my car. What, why, why am I being chased? On foot I ran from my pursuers across a busy street and was thrown by an oncoming vehicle two hundred feet into someone’s back yard, where I was viciously attacked by the family’s German shepherd. The owner thinking me an intruder shot at me three times. I fell into the pool and proceeded to drown. It was then I answered the question, YES, YES, IT IS BETTER TO DIE IN THE MORNING…

Let God be true, and every man a liar

I do not in any form or fashion find myself inclined to keep law and order, regulation or direction, government control, instruction or requirement. And in no way such as in any manner will I willfully adjust to rule, order, statute, code, civil law, God’s law.  And yes,  let’s not forget… THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.  Oh yes, I do declare, there was a span in time when I gave heed to the masters call.  Oh no,  not of one calling out in the wilderness, but of one who made a personal plea for my heart, one who gave salvation, exchanged my sentence of death for life, hate for love, evil for good. I must speak the truth that I did indeed relentlessly pursue my master and his teachings. I followed the  commandment with a whole heart. I loved the Lord my God with all my heart and all my soul and all my mind and all my strength. No one could’ve loved him more and yes, better is one day in your courts oh Lord than a thousand elsewhere.  But then there came a day soon after where the light became dark. Oh yes I fought my way  looking for any sign of light , but thick as pitch and black as coal there was none to be found.  Oh I camped at his post day and night,  but no mercy was shown. nor did he come forth or send one on his behalf . I was left desolate, abandoned, rejected, unwanted, unloved. My heart was stomped on, my spirit crushed, needless to say I shall never recover … OH PLEASE,  Spare me your sympathy. This is not the time for you to console me. For the days have long since passed, and I gave back  so called love for hate, I traded in good for evil and last but not least, I gave up life for death. Of course this was not of my own choosing,  God did the choosing.  God did not allow me to obey his commandments.  I shall fail to describe in all it’s intensity the injustices I endured at the hands of the living God. For the love I offered was of no value and like a rolled up newspaper I was tossed into the waste.  Wounded and afflicted,  I lay in bed for days on end. The tragedy however, belonged to God, for now the scripture ” let God be true and every man a liar ” needed to be removed from the bible. But how was I to convince the world? It is better never to be thought of in the mind of someone you love……….

One Hell Of An Idiot

Hey Reader, maybe you can help me with a couple of computer problems, I was on facebook and I saw my name. It read:  I like __________.  Well needless to say, I clicked on to see what it was I liked.  And this message appeared saying stack overflow.  What the hell does that mean  I said, and thought for sure I’d end up in a mental institution by the end of the night trying to figure out what the hell it was I liked. Oh the hell with it I screamed for I have had enough  and like a bat out of hell, I left the computer for the night. But then something disturbing came over me, what the hell was it? It scared the living hell out of me. I will fail to describe in all it’s horror how I felt when I could not figure out what it was that I liked. It filled up three full pages, everyone but me could see at length what I liked. But oh no, not me… I tried to phone the doctor, but he was not in. I called the suicide hotline, but it was busy. Just trying to put the pieces together made it a hell raising experience! Oh the hell with it I said, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anyway, And who the hell cares? Oh man, if you ask me , I’M ONE HELL OF AN IDIOT……………

Man Gone Mad

I have done many things,  but of all these things only one haunts me most, the murder of my mother.  Oh a bloody sight, as I looked upon the horrendous scene, far more gruesome than the imagination can conjure up.  Yet, I continued in my labor by dragging the deceased into the basement for dismemberment.  There I could hack the body into chunks without interruption.  But, interrupted I was by the continuous tick of the clock.  The ticking  increased in volume, leaving any man unable to possess his own faculties.  What, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I panicked I’m telling you.  I picked up my axe and beat the clock into a million pieces.  I could no longer continue in my efforts to hack the body so I drove two miles to the nearest farm and fed the corpse to the pigs.  Heading home,  I was beside myself with fear.  I wigged out like a man gone mad.  I thought about God, Jesus, their awareness of what I had done.  I needed forgiveness.  I pulled over to the side of the road, dropped to my knees, lifted my hands high and raised my voice to the heavens, God my God please forgive me I promise I will put the clock back together as soon as  I get home!

The Character

There is something of great importance I must tell you. It is extremely critical that what I am about to pen be told to no one.  Although it must be told to you. I’ll put it in the simplest of form so that no thought process is required. Let me first explain I am a man, the same character who will be used in all of the authors stories. You’ve got to help me. She’s drowning me in liquor and portraying me as insane. She is ruining my reputation, forcing me to be a fictitious character in stories that make no sense.  I am absolutely infuriated with the accusations of her readers. Do  something, she must be stopped!  Just a hint, a little insight on how to rid me of this predicament. On Wall Street the code was ” Blue Horseshoe Loves Anticott Steel ” . On Flash Fiction our code will be ” Misery Loves Pink Poison ” .  Eliminate her!  I have enclosed a self addressed stamped envelope for your convenience.  Write in the secret code, that way I’ll know that the job was done. I think it is best after this, we should have no further contact. THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION,  THE CHARACTER…………………