Odd Pilgrims at the Church of Hate_Pigs Fly before humans_Cat Eyes_DEATH HAS A PRICE
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Odd Pilgrims at the Church of Hate
TW: Swearing, gangs, guns.I’ve got a plan. It’s vicious, perhaps even cruel. That’s part of the fun.They gather in a giant shed. From the outside it’s halfway to a church. White wooden walls. Tall thin windows. They don’t preach the word of God here. They worship hate.A project I have laboured on for a week is coming to fruition. Every night I sealed up every possible vent for air in the side of this wooden temple to xenophobia. It doesn’t need to be completely airtight, just enough for the dental nitrous oxide to knock out everyone inside.It’s Sunday. While others rest, the hateful flock gath...
Pigs Fly before humans
“Where I come from, pigs could fly before humans”Those tiny bundles of joy, my dearest grandchildren stopped crying immediately. At ages 7 and 6, it is expected that they have little quarrels. Ones that always end in tears and snot and broken toys. But every time I say that sentence, they stop crying. After blinking out some tears and rubbing some snot on his sleeve, my older one said, “Daddad, daddad, tell me the story?”The story, ahh. I start with that sentence, but every time I tell them a made-up story to teach them a lesson. But sibling love is too important for a fairy tale. “If I tell ...
Cat Eyes
“Leave him alone!”Ellie barreled after her older brother, lungs stinging as they sucked in cold air and boots slapping heavily against the wet ground. Ahead of her, autumn twilight revealed Jake’s back, caked with mud all the way down to his legs. He moved quickly, arms swinging in a snapping motion as he sprinted down the leaf littered road. Suddenly, his whole body twisted, turning and disappearing into a field. Ellie let out a scream of frustration, skidding to a halt before darting after him. Long, wet grass beat against her shins and she almost slipped twice! They came out onto a grassy s...
DEATH HAS A PRICE
Life was never supposed to be this hard. I tried to understand his sickness. His brain twisted the very fabric of his reality. Trying to teach him to process things in a non destructive way was like trying to coawww.onedoor.ccx a spider into not weaving an intricate web. Once the webs are spun and its prey is captive the spider is compelled to poison the victim. Just as my son spun webs of deceit he would poison his victims with intoxicating venom; the lies, he spewed from his mouth. Once they trusted him, he would strike then watch as their life faded away.Did I do enough as a father? Did the pre-teen deer...