Comedy
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The Heavy Fabric of Truth
Mick was a Golden Retriever with the soul of a weary detective and the patience of a stone wall. He sat in the back of the parked van: a dented white beast that smelled like sour milk and old crayons. Mick looked at the blueprint pinned to the carpet. He tapped a paw on the…
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The Glass Heart of the Tower
The toaster was the only thing in my house that didn’t lie to me. It had a simple soul. You give it bread, it gives you a crunch, and then it goes quiet. People are different. People take your heart, run it through a blender, and then ask why you’re bleeding on their carpet. My…
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Why I Risked Everything to Put Damp Socks on the President of the United States
The sky is a wide, empty bowl. The dirt is honest and still. But Barnaby Pringle was not on the dirt. He was sixty feet above it. He was crawling through a metal tube inside the Pentagon. The metal was cold. It smelled like old pennies and floor wax. Barnaby’s stomach felt like a sack…
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Why I Drove a Bank Robber at Exactly Twenty Miles Per Hour
Barnaby had a spine like a frozen yardstick. He never missed a day at the library. His greatest fear was a late fee or a smudge on a book cover. He lived his life by a single, terrifying rule: if you are not perfect, you are invisible. He spent his nights polishing his shoes and…
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The Spreadsheet Swan
The stapler was a Swingline 747, finished in a matte grey that Arthur Pringle found deeply comforting. It required exactly four point two pounds of pressure to engage. *Clack-shhh.* *Clack-shhh.* Arthur adjusted his spectacles. His desk was an island of crystalline order in the chaotic sea of the “Refunds and Adjustments” department. Every paperclip was…