Tag Archives: funny

Lost

Flash fiction typography on a vintage photograph.

Hiking in Heels


Hiking in Heels, along with many other works, are available on my Etsy. And don’t forget to check out Capturing a Moment, a book by Wrags Ink that collects around fifty of my images into a nice little coffee table book. It comes with all kinds of free goodies and also can be purchased with original pieces!

People Watching in Rittenhouse

Artwork by Shalaya Holliday. Her work can be seen here.

They sat on the park bench facing each other as the lights came on and illuminated the area.
“I love this park. Especially for people watching,” he said to her. She returned a smile.
“Yes, it’s always a good spot for that.”
His eyes scanned the area and rested on a twenty-something girl with a flowered skirt, tank top and blue and white striped oversized cardigan. “Take her, for instance.”
“Yes?”
She was kind of bent over sitting on a bench across from them with her elbows on her knees, her long hair hiding her hands that could have been on her chin.
“I like her cardigan.”
“Yes, yes we both like her cardigan, but that’s not what I meant.”
She looked at the girl a bit more. Finally he broke her concentration.
“Well, is she sad? Her body language tells me she might be considerably morose.”
“I think she’s just on the phone. He hair is hiding it from our view.”
He looked again, this time with her point in mind. “You know, you might be right. But her face still looks sad, and her mouth doesn’t seem to be moving.”
The girl’s face suddenly broke into a smile, and from that to laughter.
They looked at each other and both said at the same time, “Phone.”

The End of Harry Potter

And so we waited.

The line wrapped almost totally around the fourteen-theater building, filled with wizards of the various houses, and even a few Dobby costumes as we anxiously waited to get in. The crowd was so insane, so large, that this small New Jersey town had police both riding bikes and walking around the crowds. One was even working for the theater.

“Theater twelve is opened now. Theater twelve,” the officer, in his blue uniform and shiny badge, was saying as he passed. We frantically looked at our tickers. Damn, we were theater nine.

And so as the officer passed the line, small groups of lucky twelves bolted from the line and ran, full speed, around the corner to the front doors. Some were smart, since we were so far behind the line, to run in the direction that was against the crowd, knowing that at the end of the line they were actually closer to the front doors if they took the other direction.

A guy walked by in a Scooby Doo costume,with a friend dressed as Mario. Me, my girlfriend and my sister were confused.

“Um,” my girlfriend said.

“Who knows.”

A young girl was annoying the shit out of us. Seriously, I’ve never wanted to smack someone more than at this moment.

“My life is going to end tonight. For real. It really is. I will want to die when this is all over. DIE. I’ve lived Harry Potter for my whole life, and tonight I will die.”

Someone in front of her was holding up a DVD player and showing part one, and I could not hear it over her shrill, constant voicing of how she would die tonight. So much for the entertainment of watching the DVD.

So time passes, this girl keeps talking about death, and they finally yell out nine, so we haul ass to the front. At the main doors, there is a clusterfuck of people trying to shove their way in; there is no method to this theater’s Harry Plan at all. Cops and ushers are trying to regain order, but to no avail. We’re shoved in between about a hundred people trying to get in while others whose theater has not been called have formed a wall, keeping us legitimate patrons out.

That’s when I realized that our fourth friend, who was stuck in traffic, would not be able to get her ticket from us.

“I have to wait out here for her” I yelled above the noise. “You guys get us seats!” I pushed my way to the back of this cluster as they continued to push forward. Then  waited for my phone to ring. She finally called about ten minutes later and I found her.

“They called our theater. We just have to push through this,” I said, pointing to the wall of people. Her eyes widened.

That’s when I noticed a girl with pink hair who seemed to know the trick. She stood out from the crowd and I could see her making her way through rather easily, and I said to my friend, “We need to follow her!”

I pushed my way through until I was behind her, and just as I caught up to the pink-haired girl, a path opened and she, her friend and the two of us poured through the crowd and easily made our way in.

The concession lines were small and we needed soda since the film was almost three hours and it was already midnight, so I called the others, who gave me drink orders and told us where they were sitting. A short while later and we were in the theater looking for them. My sister got up and waved, so we started to make our way. When I got to the row, I stopped. The annoying girl was sitting right next to us.

“Seriously?” I asked my girlfriend.

“She sat down after we did! It couldn’t be helped!”

And so I slumped into my seat and waited for the movie. It was a blast, the wait. I love the midnight show for two reasons. One, everyone is SO excited and acts nuts. Two, many dress up. It was intense.

“When I say Harry you say Potter!” a girl yelled.

“Harry!”

“POTTER!” the whole crowd yelled. It was cute.

During the actual film, which I loved, the obnoxious girl was crying the whole second half. Maybe crying isn’t the right word. Sobbing. Uncontrollably. To the point her mom said “Shut up!” to her. I wanted to clap.

After the film, everyone clapped, cheered and cried a bit. It was over. A big part of our lives had just ended, and there was nothing we could do but get in our cars, go home and dream of Harry, Hermoine and Ron. And Neville…let’s not forget Neville, who finally got to be the hero he deserved to be.

Magazine Publication, Part II

A magazine for and about artists.

Hello all! Care to see my work in yet another magazine? The wonderful crew over at Racing Minds Magazine have featured me in their August issue.

The online version is here. A paper copy is also available here if you care to purchase it. Please check out all of the amazing artists, photographers and creative minds that come together in this excellent publication.

The Melancholy Robot and the Hot Dog Vendor

Come back tomorrow for the finale of The Melancholy Robot!

The robot watched the man purchase a hot dog from the vendor. It mimicked the man’s actions – moving its jaw hinge up and down, chewing imaginary food. Its jaw made a grinding sound since it wasn’t created for this purpose. It knew that food would ruin its mechanisms and internal clogs, and that it had no swallowing apparatus. So the robot looked away.

Today’s art was created by Jessica Smith.

The Melancholy Robot and Curiosity

The robot approached a sign that said YMCA and curiosity got the better of it. Upon entering, its glass optical units fogged over and it was forced to wipe them with its robot hands. It had entered a dangerous area with one of its natural enemies, humidity, and it knew this but just had to investigate.  It watched the humans, with much less covering than they usually wore, jumping into a big bluish pool of water. They laughed, smiled, exercised, it seemed to the robot to be a happy place for them.  One ran and a man with a loud implement in his mouth forced the child to slow down with a piercing noise. The robot heard someone yell “Cannonball!” and as he hit the water a little sprayed the robot, and it knew it had to leave. This was no place for a metallic man.

Artwork by Ryan Vecci. Go to www.laserbaked.blogspot.com for Ryan’s website. The last two installments of The Melancholy Robot will come next week, but for now check out the old stories.

The Melancholy Robot on the Metro

  The robot sat on the metro, speeding quickly to its destination. The train slowed, stopped, hissed. A couple got on, holding hands, and sat across from it.
The robot noticed how close they sat to each other compared to other passengers. They started to kiss as it watched. It tried to comprehend why humans kiss. The action served no useful function that it could see, yet the robot found itself yearning for its own partner to kiss.
It rotated its head to a window and looked at the reflection.
It had no lips.

Artwork by the wonderful and talented Kira Bang-Olsson. Check out her website or click on the artwork for her blog. To read the rest of The Melancholy Robot stories, click here.

The Melancholy Robot and the Caterpillar

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This time story AND art both by me. I wanted to get into the act 🙂

The Melancholy Robot is a collection of flash fiction stories about a robot who wishes he were human. It focuses on its daily life and small experiences. I’ve asked different artists to do renditions of the stories; a different artist creates art every day inspired by the story. It’s been a fun experiment so far, I hope you enjoy!

Check out the other Melancholy Robot stories here.

The Melancholy Robot and the Little Girl

The Melancholy Robot is a collection of flash fiction stories about a robot who wishes he were human. It focuses on its daily life and small experiences. I’ve asked different artists to do renditions of the stories; a different artist creates art every day inspired by the story. It’s been a fun experiment so far, I hope you enjoy!

The robot stood in the park watching a dog defecate on the grass. A little girl approached the metallic man.
“Hi.” It looked down into her impossibly blue eyes. “What’s your name?”
The robot turned its attention back to the dog.
“I have no name.”
“Everybody has a name.”
“Not me.”
“That’s sad.” The little girl skipped away and the robot watched as she stepped in the fresh shit.

Artwork by the lovely and talented Kate Hiscock. Click the image for her blog or click here.

If you enjoyed this, check out the other robot stories featuring different artists here and here. And please, like my Facebook page.