Larry Gunter
Stories (19)
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Feeding Time!
I wish Pa didn’t slaughter our animals for food. They are the only friends I have in this whole wide world. For him to just kill them off like he’s doing is just… Well, I just can’t take it any longer. I have to strike out on my own. Many kids have done it in the past I’m sure of it. It makes no never mind if I succeed or not anyways. So long as I don’t have to sit for another holiday feast. All of their exaggerated smiling faces with remnants of my friends stuck to their obnoxious teeth makes me sick to my stomach.
By Larry Gunter5 years ago in Fiction
Agent Johnson
Today is agent Samuel Johnson’s birthday but frankly, he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s been working undercover at TecCo Industries for two years now, desperately trying to uncover and expose what the people there were really up to. Today was the day where all of his hard work would finally pay off. He needed this. He needed it like a starving anorexic squirl needed a nut. It was he who sold his higher ups on the notion that the people at TecCo were up to no good. After studying their activity for years, he was convinced that what they were really doing was developing ransomware products and selling them to terrorist. No one believed him at first, but after he laid out his evidence showing years and years of suspicious activity, they all agreed that they should send someone in. Naturally he insisted that it would be him. It was a hard sell being that he was only twenty-five years old and as green as a leprechaun’s hat on a bright sunny day. Yet, Somehow, he was able to pull it off. That was over two years ago and since he was planted, he has not presented the agency with a single shred of actual evidence. It was that God damn firewall! As soon as he began to make some ground on it, it would reconfigure itself leaving him with no choice but to start from scratch. That’s all over now. Through his unyielding focus and dedication, he figured out a way to defeat it.
By Larry Gunter5 years ago in Fiction
Piece and Quiet
Crowds of people always make Tiffany anxious. She could get on perfectly fine with two, three, even four people. As soon as there became five in any given setting she’d surely notice. Her first instinct would be to leave immediately. God forbid other people would arrive and make the number go up. She’d be on the verge of a panic attack for sure. Such a troublesome way to live one’s life. She, now in hospice care at the tender age of 87, lies in bed wondering if there will be a crowd of people at her funeral. Yes, even the prospects of many people being around her when she is dead makes her anxious. Because of her condition, Tiffany’s life has been, umm, let’s just say stunted. No diners, parties, weddings, church services, or any other setting where a crowd of people would be. Living life in a major city with some prestigious career was out of the question for her too. Poor Tiffany never found love. There was no marriage, no children, and as she all alone with pen and paper in hand writes down her desire to have only three people at her funeral, there were no grandchildren either. Oh, she made it three to be on the safe side. You know how these things never go according to plan. There may be a misunderstanding and one extra person shows up. She’d be ok with four people, but more than that would be absolutely unacceptable! Ahh, the required dotting of I’s and crossing of T’s that goes into one’s preparations for transitioning to the afterlife. Tiffany had her priorities in order. She knew what mattered and what didn’t. Just as she had lived the last 77 years of her life avoiding crowds, she was making sure that her death would be no different. Of course, Tiffany wasn’t always this way. Who can say for sure who or what was to blame for the way she became? She obviously made her choice. Others aren’t so certain that the crowd was to blame though. All that is certain is that it all had to do with that bright summer day that was her tenth birthday, the party her mother was giving her, and of course a nice small piece of her mothers’ chocolate cake.
By Larry Gunter5 years ago in Fiction
Him or Me
A hard knocking on the door startled us both. We froze with both our eyes open as wide as they could go as we glared at the door. The pounding continued on seeming to last for a decade before it finally ceased. We, still quiet as mice, turned to look into each other’s eyes. Then, very abruptly, the knocking started back up again startling her into a huge jumping spasm. As reality of the situation kicked in, we jumped up out of bed and frantically began picking our spread about clothing from off the floor and putting them on as fast as we could.
By Larry Gunter5 years ago in Fiction
My Lucky Day
It all started out as just another typical Tuesday. I arrived for work just in the nick of time because the line for my morning caffeine fix was super long as usual. I had the next thirty minutes of pure paradise to look forward to. It would be just me, my cubicle, and my latte. A morning ritual that I religiously looked forward to and desperately needed before embarking on the dreadful eight to ten hours that lay ahead staring at my mundane number infested computer screen. I was a senior accountant at the second largest accounting firm in the region. Yeah, I fit the stereotype of the slightly overweight number crunching bean counting nerd that couldn’t find a date if it bit him on the ass.
By Larry Gunter5 years ago in Fiction
