Category: Fictionrific

The Poopening: Page 1

Backstory: One cool, October morning, sound asleep in my Michigan State dorm room, I was abruptly awoken by the sound of this image unexpectedly emerging from my printer. For the next nine days, my printer awoke me each morning, offering a new page of pure horror. This was…The Poopening. To Be Continued…

Walking in the Fog

How do you write about fog? It’s not really a thing, more of an un-thing. A murkiness that distorts reality, casting a filtered lens over the world. In the absence of a starry night, moon fully obscured, fog is simply darkness made real. The senses thrill at this connection – here now is the stuff of dreams, the kind that…

Politics R Dum Part 2

I’ve never felt particularly skillful when titling these posts. I spent eight years writing on a blog without titles, so the concept is remarkably foreign to me. There’s a sort of subtle art to it, the combination of verb and wit known only to the pithier among us. I’ve never been very handy with the subject line of emails either…

Politics R Dum Part 1

It has come to my attention that the best-selling genre of books right now in America is one-sided political diatribes designed to instill anger and hatred towards an amorphous, vaguely identifiable portion of the American people. This is a genre built almost entirely on bile, that hot, stinging liquid that sometimes gets caught in the back of your throat when…

Novelization of the Trailer for “A Good Day to Die Hard”

Prologue “RAPTOR 7 DO YOU COPY? THIS IS VILLAIN HQ.” The voice crackled through Dieter’s headset like popcorn in a microwave. Dieter grimaced and shifted the helicopter controls forward. After a moment, he pressed the Call button on his console. “Raptor 7 here, got the cargo. Where do you want it? “GENTLY SET THE CARGO DOWN ON THE LANDING PAD,…

Flash Fiction #3

You know that feeling when you wake up, the one where you were dreaming about something intense and wonderful, but the only real memory you have is of the pure, deep blankness of sleep? That’s how I feel. Like something spectacular happened and now I have no idea, just a dim remembrance of a once-vivid moment. Or several moments, perhaps.…

Don’t Touch

“Jim, I want you to take this home for me.” Albert, Jim’s boss, nearly eclipsed the doorway to Jim’s office. Behind Albert’s girth, a dark shape sat on the floor of the hallway. It appeared to be an extra-bulky backpack with a long hose attached. “Sure thing, Al,” Jim replied.  “But…what is it?” Albert grinned. “Oh, just a little something…

Flash Fiction #1

Sometimes I write little short stories… Timothy’s Bad Day Once upon a time there was a robot named Timothy. He had a big shiny chestplate which he liked a lot. He liked it because it was so shiny that it reflected other robots’ faces like a mirror or a clear pond on a calm day. But one day it was…