I wondered if this whole thing should become one of those ads in a gun magazine. You know, the kind you’d see next to the monster truck magazines at check out lanes all over the south. A big picture of the latest word in pistols, shotguns, or rifles, full of garish ads for laser sights, gas masks, and calendars of half naked women cradling fully automatic weapons. Yeah, I could see it now. “The day the world ended, and I all had to count on was my trusty Smith & Wesson.” That would be printed across the top of the page in bold letters. Below it would be a picture of a ragged but defiant survivor, calmly cradling the zenith of firearms technology. (more…)

When I was a boy, my brothers and I used to play a game. A group of us would go out and find a wasp’s nest in the ground. One of us would give it a swift kick or three. The game was where we’d have to outrun the wasps. Once we were safe, we counted up our stings. The guy with the least amount of bites would be the winner.

We never played for much – a couple of skin mags, maybe some cigarettes, possibly a couple of dollars. I never won at it anyway. My brothers – bigger and stronger, and probably quite a bit meaner than I’ll ever be would always beat me. (more…)

Johnny was the one who told me that she was still alive. “But don’t go over there.” He cautioned, turning his back on me as he walked across the room. When he got to the window he told me that he thought they had all the women they needed. He had even seen two teenage girls walking down the street unhindered. (more…)

Suzy was a petite blond with shoulder-length hair, high cheek bones and an upturned nose. Her eyes sparkled and she was in the habit of lightly touching people as she talked. People assumed she was a cheerleader because she was always so perky. She flashed a winning smile. It was perfect camouflage for the shark within. Suzy was full time student, part time barista, and an opportunistic thief. Some people are only pretty on the outside. (more…)

All you gotta do is smile and smile…

-Dolly Parton

Merrillville, Indiana-

Although I really didn’t like staying in the diner, most of the people there were making too much of a fuss out of the situation. One lady kept going into the small women’s restroom (GALS) because she said she felt safer not being seen though the big windows. That was annoying me, and she would get hysterical if anyone brought any problems to her attention. Maybe it was her husband’s lecturing. After ten minutes or so, she would creep out of there and be all collected again. That is until someone said something to set her off, and then her dramatics would flare-up all over. She eventually pissed her pants and I wanted to ask her if she was taking meds, but, as always, I really didn’t want to get involved. Ironically, she let herself go in the dining area. (more…)