Flash Fictions
Is The Pope Catholic?
Fourteen times, I've seen them. They keep running at me. With skates and fruit baskets they attack me. I've always considered fruit my friend, and at the very least a wave from a distance acquaintance. Somewhere in the entire scheme of things, in the entire scope of universal truths and storage facility building plans, somewhere these fruits have turned on me. I'll never be sure how they got skates though. But I've seen clues doing strange things with soap and cloth lined hangers. And it makes me cry. There are some people who say men shouldn't cry. But then I get nervous when people start talking about my penis and tear ducts in the same sentence. It makes me feel kinda funny. Tactics have been developed for stopping the produce's attacking ways. But refrigeration is always something you want to avoid doing, unless you absolutely have to. And even then only in ten degree intervals.
Next: Religion's Last Gasp
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.
