Tag Archives: steel

The Letter Opener: Part 2-5

“As I suspected, Gling, the human aliens are paranoid and aggressive. He ‘killed’ the dummy in order to escape.”

Gling gargled. “But this one had a weapon. We must test others.”

Kling shrugged.

They watched as Herbert Cralston flung the hospital doors open and sank to his knees in despair.

The Letter Opener: Part 2-4

Herbert peered very cautiously around the corner. The hallway was empty.

No, wait. One of the inhuman creatures was lounging in a chair just beside the exit with its back turned.

It was all or nothing.

Herbert crept up behind the creature—

raised the steel letter opener—

and struck.


The Letter Opener: Part 2-3

Herbert slid his shirt on over the bandages covering his sides. The wounds were painful, but not crippling.

Picking up the steel letter opener, he realized he didn’t really care how he had come to be here. All he cared about was getting out.

Unfortunately, he still had no socks.

The Letter Opener: Part 2-2

“Consider us philanthropists,” gargled one of the inhuman faces.

Herbert looked woozily around the room. His tattered clothes were draped over a chair. The steel letter opener was lying on the floor.

“May I get dressed?” he asked. “Privately?”

“Certainly. Your wounds are healing well, but be gentle.”

They left.

The Letter Opener: Part 1-5

It must have been a joke, Herbert decided. How could a letter opener cause a twenty-five percent fatality rate?

As Herbert closed his car door, there was a crash, followed by screaming. The parking lot erupted in green flame and Herbert’s car went tumbling through the air.

He passed out.

The Letter Opener: Part 1-4

“Excuse me, sir.”

Herbert stopped. “Yes?”

“You forgot to take the complimentary safety manual for your new steel letter opener!”

“Don’t need it,” grumbled Herbert.

“The statistics beg to differ!” countered the cashier.


“Nearly twenty-five percent of letter opener injuries are fatal.”

Herbert rolled his eyes. “I’ll be careful.”

The Letter Opener: Part 1-3

Herbert Cralston thought queues at office-supply stores were an insufferable, stress-fueled convening of frantic, Blackberry-wielding, over-caffeinated Deputy Thises and Assistant Thats with crooked ties and runs in their pantyhose, frequently all seeking to purchase the same object.

It made Herbert feel stabby; he bought a letter opener made of steel.