the short short story

Words have a certain beauty about them. It doesn't take a three-hundred page novel or sixty stanza poem to convey that beauty. Using no more than a paragraph, one can conjure the same power as a book, and require the reader to use just as much, if not more, imagination.

This is not a new literary genre but it is relatively unknown. Most of these are original short short stories. Those that are not are credited otherwise. When I think of new ones I write them.

I've included a lot of poetry and songwriting as well, especially recently. I hope you enjoy it all.

How My Family Helped Me Get Away With Murder (a short story)

[a dark comedy I wrote last year... not based on actual events, haha]

Bits of his once intact skull and brain plastered my face, overshadowing all logical thought of what I should do next- so I threw up. It seemed that once I had added my own bodily fluids to the scene my brain was able to function at full cognitive capacity. I began frantically to search for towels and bleach. My head scanned the room faster than my eyes could keep up with. Where would bleach be?

    Check under the kitchen sink, honey.

My head stopped in place- eyes fixed on the bottom cupboard. Right, thanks mom! My legs propelled my body forward before it even knew what was going on.

    Hey, did you know that scientists discovered that your subconscious brain knows what you're going to do next before you even decide to do it. It's true! A brain scan showed that regions of your brain became stimulated a split second before you actually decide to do something! Isn't that crazy?!

Yes, that's pretty cool Sid but I don't really have time for that right now. My hands gripped the handles of the cupboards and jerked them open. My pupils felt huge. Everything seemed brighter.

    That's the adrenaline rushing through you. It makes your eyes dila-

Thanks Sid, but can you get mom or dad now. I need their help. I saw the bleach and grabbed it with a quick, robotic move. I stood and turned back to the living room- back to the bloodied, near headless body.

    Don't forget the towels!

Shit. I flung back around. I saw a towel hanging from the handle of the oven, but that was it. Fuck. That won't do.

    We keep ours in the biggest drawer, near the bottom. Maybe check in theirs.

I did. It was between the stove and the refrigerator. I set the bleach down and opened the drawer. Yes, piles of glorious towels- all shapes and sizes. I reached both arms in as deep as they could go until my knuckles hit the wood bottom. Plush fabric caressed my arms.

    I never liked folding towels.

Yeah, me neither. I hauled the towels out and wrangled the handle of the bleach with my pinky.

    You don't need to take the groceries all in one trip. That's how things get dropped!

Well, I do now mom. I walked quickly to the scene. One of the top towels slipped off on the way there.

    Told you!

I dropped everything on the leather couch. The heavy plastic bleach bottle made a smack sound on it, the way things do on leather.

    He's lucky he doesn't have a cat otherwise that shit would be scratched to all hell!

Dad never did like our cat. I turned to the body again. It was still there on the floor, a large chunk of its head missing. Parts of its still pink brain were visible.

    Coool!

There was so much blood- blood everywhere.

    It's because the brain receives the majority of the body's blood flow, relative to other organs.

Thanks again Sid! Alright, now what? I can't exactly clean the scene with the body still here, but if I move it, it'll just streak across the entire goddamn apartment.

    You should've grabbed a garbage bag- put it undern-

-neath the body, and drag it on that. Good idea dad! I spun back to the kitchen, my body moving ahead of me. I looked again under the sink. Sure enough, a nice big box of black bags. I snatched it. Back in the living room I gripped the garbage bag that was sticking out, then let the box fall to the floor. The bag rolled out and freed itself. I looked for the end, checking the top then the bottom then the top again.

    I can never tell which end opens either. You know, if I made garbage bags I wou-

Not now dad. I found the end that opened and peeled it apart until I could fling it in the air and let it inflate. Then I walked to the body. Gripping the sticky, wet hair on the part of the head that remained, I lifted the top half of the body up and slipped the garbage bag over it. Then I rotated the body so the bag wouldn't drop in the giant pool of blood quickly soaking into the carpet.

    You better get that quick before it's too late!

I know mom, but I gotta deal with this body first. I pulled at its belt and waist until it was clear of the blood then rotated it again. I bent down to grab the body.

    Woah son! Bend with your legs. That's how you wreck your back!

I stood back up, then bent at my knees. Gripping under the shoulders I lifted up the body and slowly dragged it across the apartment. Dragged sounds like it was easy. I inched the body- feet shuffling backwards. Dead bodies are heavy. That's the main thing I learned while hauling this lifeless carcass past the kitchen to the bathroom.

    “Lifeless carcass” is a bit redundant.

I finally got the lifeless carcass to the bathroom, where I leaned it against the bathroom tub. I jogged back to the soaked carpet. Blood still pooled the area where the head had been- or where the head had been, had been.

    Funny.

I could smell my own vomit as well. It was in a pool all its own, only slightly mingling with the crimson. I grabbed the top towel and spread it out as much as I could. One stack of towels later and the carpet was covered with a shitty, not-yet-knit quilt. I got another garbage bag from the box still sitting on the floor, and scooped the towels into it. Next I began the tedious process of looking for and picking up the itty-bitty pieces of skull and brain that littered the carpet. Brain is squishy. I examined a small chunk between my thumb and forefinger. I could make out the wrinkles and curves.

    Intelligence actually has nothing to do with the size of the brain. It's the surface area and number of neurons. Usually the more wrinkled it is the more cognitively advanced it is.

Interesting. To think this moist pink chunk of meat once processed vast amounts of information at breathtaking speeds. The chemicals that coded some of his memories are still trapped in there, never to travel to other regions of the brain again. Amazing.
I tossed it into the garbage bag.
Once I was near certain every fragment of a once intact human was picked up I examined the still soaked carpet. I would need bleach, lots of bleach.

    Next time you should really kill someone who has wood flooring, honey.

Yeah, I know. I grabbed the bleach bottle and began to pour liberal amounts onto the once white carpet. I let it soak for a few minutes while I looked in the fridge for something to eat or drink. I was beginning to worry he didn't have any good post-murder snacks, when I opened a Styrofoam take out box to find a nice piece of cherry pie.

    Chew with your mouth closed!

Sorry. When I finished the pie I recycled the Styrofoam and threw the fork into the garbage. I then grabbed the last towel I had deliberately left behind and used it to begin scrubbing the carpet.

    Hey! Don't scrub it dear. You have to blot blood. Blot! Blot! Blot!

I blotted. I blotted for what seemed like hours. It was probably only ten minutes- if that. Either way, when I looked at the carpet again I couldn't even see my masterpiece. Terrific. I threw the last towel into the garbage and knotted it shut. I walked back to the bathroom- the body still propped against the bathtub. I then saw myself in the mirror. My face was caked with dried blood- maroon face paint. I washed my face in the sink, then turned back around. Fuck. I still didn't know how I'm gonna get rid of the body. I looked it over up and down- shoes to garbage bagged head, as if just staring at it enough would give me an answer.

    Have you seen Breaking Bad?

Of course I've seen Breaking Ba-

    More like Breaking GOOD! Am I right?!

Shut up Dad. Yes I've seen Breaking Bad, Sid, but how is that gonna hel- oh... right. I quickly got back to work.

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