Lisa Munley
Bio
Hello my name is Lisa Munley and I am an avid reader and lover of short stories. I have an affinity for screamfest videos and have written a few scripts myself. After they reopen, i would like to pursue a comedic career.
Stories (2)
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A Conversation in a Garage
My stomach is a lead ball and my anxiety is especially through the roof today. I am picking up my son from prison, I am feeling inadequate as usual. I had failed miserably, I know it and when he looks at me, he knows it. My faith in God has been wavering, I see no hope and have not received any help. My anger grows by the day, I have only prayed dark prayers of death. "Please God kill us both." Jayden going to prison was the shit on top. Everyday since he has been incarcerated, I have pushed away the visions of him being raped and beaten. I suspect as an addict, this has already occurred. I pretend to be excited to see him but the truth is, I know this situation is about to get worse. I have been spending my time begging and ultimately threatening his probation officer to force him into a long-stay facility. My emails were met with non-committal jargon and excuses based on the pandemic. My son is now a leper, an untouchable, "no help will be provided, Lisa, sorry we do not give a shit, there are people dying out there." I find it's easy not to help isn't it? Provide an excuse, stand behind your occupation and sit on your incompetent fat asses. I have done this before, I am guilty.
By Lisa Munley4 years ago in Confessions
Me and Alan
Hey what are you doing here? Douglas asks me with a rudeness that takes me aback. I'm sorry, he says, it's just that I wasn't expecting you to be here. I am here Douglas, to pay my respects to a fellow human being. Besides, Alan was a good frenemy of mine. "Frenemy", Douglas uses the douchebag quotes in the air. Yeah, we couldn't help but compete with each other, I tried hard to be comfortable around him but we always ended up arguing over something stupid. I think there was an insidious spirit of competition between us. Now that he's gone, who am I supposed to banter with? Douglas looked visibly uncomfortable, then excused himself and made a sprint to the food table. I looked around, everyone looking appropriately sad, moving slowly, I was bored. I thought, what the hell, I would check out Alan's house. First, I'd eat my weed to calm my ass down, seeing Douglas stressed me out. He knows that I hated Alan half of the time and showing up to his funeral was probably bad form to him. Who cares, Douglas is an a-hole who married his high school sweet skank and had two mediocre babies. What a loser. I was curious about Alan's house. He was such a private guy, he never invited me over. I slowly walked up the stairs, they were carpeted so I barely made noise. I turned the corner and there I see his master bedroom. I hurriedly walk across the balcony and make my way inside and shut the door. What a psycho! His room was as neat as the demons in his head. Then I saw it. A black book, it was kind of beautiful, it was made of soft leather with a slim leather strap that wrapped around it. I didn't know Alan journaled, the things you find out when someone kicks the bucket. There was a small sliver of a torn piece of paper underneath the strap. I pulled out the paper and there was one word written on it, "chuckcherry". I immediately knew this was for me. I had problems saying the word charcuterie, those boards that have cheese, meat etc, Alan thought it was hysterical how I had pronounced it. I opened the soft black book and what I saw were a list of dares so it seemed. As I always do, I flipped to the last page and there it was. Dearest friend (how did he know I looked at the last page of any book), this black book is my own little nightmare crafted just for you. Upon completion, you can contact my attorney listed here and you will be promptly cut a check for three hundred thousand dollars. Do not think about cheating, I have people watching. Love, Alan.
By Lisa Munley5 years ago in Criminal
