Humor

Product Review (I did NOT write this while I was buzzed!)
so I bought this boxed chocolate cake late at night at a Save-A-Lot, and the first problem was the cart didn’t take my coin!
By Melissa Ingoldsby5 years ago in Fiction
A Kestrel Offers His Thoughts on the Vacation Rental
Well, I for one voted for the Roman castle. There's just something about being able to bob your head to tell the girls modestly and sweetly that, “Oh, as a matter of fact, I do happen to live in the castle.” What's with the rut? Who said we have to fly back to the exact same place every year?
By Amethyst Qu5 years ago in Fiction
The Most Beautiful Birthday Cake Ever
“This is going to be a piece of cake,” I chuckled. “Mom, leave the dad jokes to Dad, please,” my 22-year-old son grumbled. “It’s bad enough when he says stuff like that.”
By Julie Lacksonen5 years ago in Fiction
Hunter Stalks the Darkness
The shadows filling the barn were his natural habitat; all feared to enter his domain. His dark fur blending perfectly as he stalked his prey between bales of hay. His green eyes shining with malevolent intelligence, the only visual clue that he was on the prowl. Even his silent padding, each measured step placed optimally to prevent his prey from realizing, that today was its final moment. His tail began a rhythmic twitching, sign enough for any that witnessed, that he had spotted his prey. Sure enough, just a short leap away from his cleverly concealed vantage, the twitching pink nose and the sound of chittering teeth munching on grain. A large female mouse had the nerve to steal from his people. His long dark tail twitched ever slower, in shorter and shorter lengths as his rear legs bunched in preparation for his patented “Death From Above (TM pending)” leap”. When the moment had finally reached its breaking point, he pounced. Wiry, cable-like muscles released their tension in one convulsive burst, like thick rubber bands. His aim near perfect, he sailed directly toward the vile interloper defiling his domain. His razor-sharp claws, talons of death reaching for the thief’s life. Somehow, despite his perfection in motion, the villainous rodent felt the approaching death, and did what she did best; scamper like her life depended on it.
By Brian Amonette5 years ago in Fiction
This Old Treasure
Ma always said, that in time of need, dig up the treasure in the basement. We all knew about it. Ma had five sibs, and Da had ten at one time, though only six of the whole bunch lived to have kids. But we all knew. Da's great-great-great-great grandpa had buried a treasure in the basement of the house, and if we were ever in dire need, dig it up and use it.
By Meredith Harmon5 years ago in Fiction
The Cake
July 2nd, 1973 Dear writing journal, I’m only writing to you because Mother made me promise. Father says I should be ashamed. He’ll be looking for an admission of guilt when he flips through these pages to check I’ve really been filling them out.
By Svetlana Sterlin5 years ago in Fiction
Just The Backpack
There's something special about impromptu trips. "Meet us at the ferry, we'll take the head count there," reminds Sara before waving goodbye.
By Eyekay5 years ago in Fiction
Slumber Party
Slumber Party S. Hileman Iannazzo Herb sprawled contentedly. His left arm was tucked under his head, and his right tossed lightly across his chest. Looking at him, I thought, “He looks like an angel” and then I mustered up as much force as my exhausted 110 pound frame could manage and I drove my knee into his rib cage with a primal groan.
By S. Hileman Iannazzo5 years ago in Fiction
The End of the Road. Top Story - July 2021.
“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”
By Barb Dukeman5 years ago in Fiction
Boundaries
I could feel the cold concrete beneath me and numbness settling over my body. I would have never predicted the day to end in a tragedy with such a spectacular start.
By Marissa Macedo5 years ago in Fiction
The Mare's Nest
In situations such as these, Helen knew that it was much better to use one's head. "You've grown much too accustomed to poverty," said Frank, wagging his head blearily through the long fronds of willow that had hitherto entombed her harmony.
By Grace McHale5 years ago in Fiction
5 Things I Learned Clubbing Baby Seals
Believe it or not there are several lessons to be learned from a season of baby seal clubbing. What started out as an adventure, of trying to connect with First Nations people groups, turned into a life changing study of self introspection like no other.
By The Prepared Christian5 years ago in Fiction