The smell inside the suits gets disgusting. But you get used to it. Back in the states, I used to make fun of Furries, and with good reason. They’re so fucking weird, man. But here, I don’t know how to interact. I barely speak the language and I’m usually too embarrassed to try talk anyway. The suit was left in my hotel room, so I wore it to a coffee shop. Oh, I had it dry-cleaned first, of course. But damn, it was so easy to talk to the girl in the cat suit who sat down next to me.
***
Title by: ks
Story by: Quintin
2 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Quintin Marcelino.
By admin
– March 12, 2010
It wouldn’t be easy to obsess over Rachel. She’s always out in the city, gallivanting around SoHo, grabbing a nosh or lunch in some open-air cafe, talking to other people — she seems to know everyone — or just shopping — God knows where she gets her money. But you wouldn’t know that on your own. You’d have to hire a substalker, someone to go all the places Rachel goes and slip around between the bare-armed masses of West Broadway…
You would get frustrated stalking a girl like that. You should find someone in your own league, in your own building.
***
Title by: JD Squane
Story by: Nick
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Nick Faber.
By admin
– March 12, 2010
There is a bare light bulb over his head. There is a cot and a small table with nothing on it and a chair. There is a toilet in plain view. There is an air vent in the ceiling and a drain in the cold concrete floor. He has not seen his lawyer, whose checks are signed by the people keeping him here, for months.
When, years ago, they came for him based on the denunciation of a man to whom he owed money, he had hope that eventually they would realize their mistake. He has no such hope now.
***
Title by: Doraquel
Story by: David
1 person likes this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by David Blackstone.
By admin
– March 11, 2010
I was 16. Too young to have a baby, for sure. And too selfish to carry it for 9 months, then give it away.
They approached me in the parking lot. Told me that I was about to throw away something they wanted so desperately. He did the talking. She just cried and cried. I knew she’d stop if I said yes. So I did.
It didn’t hurt that much. And after it was over, they gave me $500. I got new school clothes. They got my baby.
Please, you’re about to throw away something I want so desperately. Please.
***
Title by: E. Kane
Story by: Jenny
1 person likes this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Jenny Nicholson.
By admin
– March 11, 2010
In the entire history of advertising, it’s possible that the “The Hall of Dew” will go down as the worst idea ever conceived. A marketing Brain Trust, led by Powell, Richter & Jones, one of the world’s most respected firms, thought a hall of fame for extreme athletes, funded and branded by Mountain Dew, would be an excellent way to build the brand. And it was. But the idea to build it using 12-packs of Mountain Dew, that was a mistake. During the first induction ceremony, both Tony Hawk and Shaun White were crushed under a hail-storm of 12 oz. cans.
***
Title by: Herm, for Ree
Story by: Quintin
1 person likes this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Quintin Marcelino.
By admin
– March 10, 2010
I still love him, of course. I just can’t sleep with him in the same bed. Not when he keeps me up all night scratching. Poor baby, we can’t seem to keep the little buggers off him. And honestly, it’s starting to put a strain on our relationship. Just the other day, I tried to hug him and he ran under the dining room table screaming, “NO MORE FRONTLINE!” It took four treats to get him to sit on the couch. I gotta say, and this is between you and me, I’m starting to think about having him put down.
***
Title by: J.C. Wick
Story by: Jenny
3 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Jenny Nicholson.
By admin
– March 10, 2010
Looks at us, huddled on the floor in giddy groups of two, devouring fiction, philosophy and travel, eating up art history and self help. Did you know they have a second floor? Sorry Scarry, Sendak and Seuss, we seek Sartre, Shaw and Uncle Shelby’s ABZ. See how we have our feet up on the couches, flat on our backs with books jackets like roofs over our faces, laughing, calling out, “Hey, when are you going to pass that tome this way? Quit hogging all the knowledge!” Knowledge, it is knowledge we are hungry for, and this afternoon we will feast!
***
Title by: Armando Bellmas
Story by: Nick
2 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Nick Faber.
By admin
– March 9, 2010
He is as human as they come, these days. Most people mod themselves beyond all recognition; it’s expected. If you can’t breathe underwater or do calculus in your head while reciting Shakespeare you’re a ‘Norm’ and not to be bothered with. The women at the office where he works snicker to each other after he passes by. They don’t bother to wait until he’s out of earshot. Not a one would give him the time of day, much less a date.
He wants them, in spite of himself. Not any one in particular: they’re all exactly the same, interchangeably perfect.
***
Title by: Death2Nostalgia
Story by: David
3 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by David Blackstone.
By admin
– March 9, 2010
They only had another month before the pandas returned to China.
And still no baby.
Understandably, tensions were high the night Amanda entered the enclosure.
Everyone crowded the viewing platform, pressing their faces against the glass like giant children.
Nobody breathed as she dropped down on all fours and approached the pandas, a stalk of bamboo clenched in her mouth.
She plopped down between them. Chewed her bamboo. Then crawled out.
As soon as she stood up, they were on her.
“Never met a gay panda before,” she said. Then tossed her bamboo in the trash can and walked away.
***
Title by: The Robotic Dan
Story by: Jenny
2 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Jenny Nicholson.
By admin
– March 8, 2010
Martha Millwood worked at the DMV for 24 years. For the last 10, she had dutifully taken photos for licenses. Her job was boring, but she liked it. As she took Norman the Dog’s picture, her mind was racing a mile a minute. Along with the non-essential questions (like does his monochromatic vision mean he needs corrective lenses?), she had wondered what she was doing with her life. Norman the dog was seven. That’s almost 50 in human years. Martha’s age. But she liked things uncomplicated. She smiled as she realized driving dogs were too much for her to handle.
***
Title by: WHITEY
Story by: Quintin
2 people like this story.
Posted in Stories.
Tagged with Stories by Quintin Marcelino.
By admin
– March 8, 2010
