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Flash Fictions
Grammar
I was running really really slowly, mostly due to the little things attached to my legs. Well, I suppose they're not that little really. In fact, if facts are what you want, those things are really really large. You might be wondering why I'm so enamored with the word really. Well really isn't all it's made out to be. In fact, if you're still nagging and insisting on having facts, really is just about four feet ten inches tall and has to wear platform shoes just so it can dance on stage next to teenage porn stars and not seem short. So what about those things on my legs, you're yelling and yelling until your throat seizes up, and starts leaking a mustard colored fluid. I lost a wager betting on which direction the wind whistled by vinyl siding, and you know how finicky the wind is when it comes to fake wood styling. Now I have to drag around heavy sentence fragments, at least until the commas stop playing keep-away and laughing their little heads off.
Sno-Cone Church
The Steel is chasing me. For some reason I've made all the various metals, aluminum, gold, steel and the others, angry and vengeful. A few rivets and soda pop cans, clunking and clanking against the sidewalk, are just about to catch me, when I leap through the doors of a rather odd looking building. Before I can get up to resume my flight from these bitter recyclables, two people dressed in rainbow colored robes grab my shirt and drag me down a cold sticky floor. The building seems to be entirely made of multi-colored piles of ice. A large wooden machine is hanging from the ceiling, from which is flowing some kind of dense syrupy liquid. A small crowd starts to sing fast food jingles, as they force my head under the flow. After a few moments of terror, I notice the liquid is a tasty mix of grape and cherry flavorings. I had almost forgotten about the metals, when one of the rainbow robed people pulls out a quarter. Before I can jostle free and run, the quarter imbeds itself into my skull. Just before my mind goes blank, I can hear them slurping and laughing with the lead sewage pipes and copper wiring, joking about religion and its resultant construction techniques.
Raising rabbits is not easy. No, no it's really not. If you get scared, e-mail me and I'll calm you down. Things being what things being.
