After applying for many years he made it into Mensa. Finally, he was among the most intelligent people of his time. Cerebrally unmatched yet socially awkward, he wondered what he’d be doing there until he was told to put on some overalls, get a bucket, and mop out the toilets.
Amplitudes of emotion
coursed his veins, his young flesh
wed to eyes in constant motion.
On her perch he envisioned heavenly
auras enhanced by multitudes of color
from his imagination.
With a tongue numbed by inaction,
he sensed little to risk and quipped,
“Don’t I know you from church camp?”
Fred Miller is a California writer. Over forty of his stories have appeared in various publications around the world. Some of these stories appear in his current blog
One afternoon, a priest, a lawyer, and a dentist walked into a bar.
The priest ordered himself a martini, promptly choked on the olive, and died. The lawyer jumped up, crying, “This isn’t funny!” and bolted from the joke.
The dentist, never one for punchlines, quietly called for another round.
Dr. Toms receives a soil sample from planet Mars. Dr. Toms views the sample under a microscope.
At 5000X she sees hints of something different. She turns the magnification up to 20,000X.
Dr. Toms can see: it’s writing. The words say,
“If you can read this you are too close.“
Denny E. Marshall had had art, poetry, and fiction published, including fiction at Postcard Shorts. See more at dennymarshall.com
Brass blazed, strings sang, and timpani boomed the finale to Venet’s Concerto, but when the orchestra lulled for the star instrument, there was silence.
The xylophone player lay unconscious under a fallen stage light.
“Don’t move him,” said the conductor. “He might have percussion.”
Not even the piccolo player laughed.
E. M. Eastick is an Australian writer currently living in Colorado.
A knock on my front door awakened me.
When I opened the door I saw a red fellow who stood three feet high. He asked me for a cup of sugar.
I was out of sugar.
He flew billions of light years and went home empty-handed.
Small tragedy I suppose.
Doug attends Wittenberg University. He hopes to entertain the world through the written word.