NOTE: This piece is based on a piece done by Shoebox of Worm Quartet.
Thank you your honor.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, sitting on a celebrity trial is never easy. The media scrutiny this case has received has been immense as evidenced by the record 4 jurors who have been excused over these past six weeks. In fact, it’s well known that finding the twelve of you to sit on this case was very difficult because of the far reaching fame of my client.
It is this fame. …

June 27, 1876
Dear George,
Hello from Washington, D.C.! I hope this message finds you well. Things here are crazy. I should have said no to this whole ‘being president’ thing. I’m tired of getting all gussied up and dealing with politicians all day! Give me the simple life! A fresh military uniform, a couple hundred men under my command, some Johnny Rebs to rout! Heh! Those were the days, my friend, those were they days.
So how are things out your way? I …

Jenny had made up her mind. PB&J was her choice. She had thought long and hard about it and PB&J was the one. She informed the chef.
The chef got out the bread, peanut butter and jelly from the pantry and began work. The bread hit the plate. The peanut butter the bread. The jelly the peanut butter. The other piece of bread was placed on top and the sandwich was then cut in two.
The chef turned towards Jenny and as he set …

There is a sad. A certain special sort of sad. A sad that makes you want to reach back through time. A sad that when seen in others makes you want to reach back through time for them. When that special sort of sad is reached it seems the only cure is time. Though reaching back through time would instantly heal the sad, it’s the slow, methodical progression of time that truly eases the sad. And even then, the sad never fully goes away. …

“You heard it click right?” There was no answer. “Come on! Tell me you heard it click!”
“Actually, I think it was more like a tick than a click.” Peterson responding chewing on the end of his left index finger. There was a moment of silence.
“Fine. I’ll try again and this time listen carefully.”
WHAM! CRASH! RATTLE!
Silence. Then…
“Click.”
“Tick.”
“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”
“Johnson, relax. It’s not the end of the world! We have time to get it right!”
“Don’t tell me to relax god dammit! …

It started with a simple drip.
A week later, the faucet was running a steady stream of warm water. Not wanting to bother the landlord, he’d gone down to Lowes and bought a new faucet. To install it, he had turned off the spigot under the sink. The stream did not stop. When the landlord was able to turn the water off to the building and Patrick was able replace the faucet and the spigot.
The next night the drip returned. A week later, the stream began again. It was …

The best I can figure, he was a gift. That really can be the only explanation she’s kept him around for so long. Like the tie your great grandmother gives you that you bury in your sock drawer and only wear when she’s around. Yet, he’s with her 24/7. Offering his “advice”. Inane advice in that voice. That voice! That horrible, horrible voice. She doesn’t need him. She’d get to where she’s going faster without him. But there he is. …

Tears. She was no stranger to tears. She was five after all and tears were a regular occurrence at five. She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her Gi. She trudged towards the door of the convention center. The trophy in her other hand dragged on the floor. Being half her size she couldn’t lift it. First place. It meant nothing.
The afternoon sun got brighter as she approached the door, the tears increased. The youngest Tae Kwon Do champion had …

Jaffe held his breath and jumped down onto the track, carefully avoiding the third rail as he ran. He didn’t live this long to die that way. Behind him, their labored breathing, louder than his, could be heard. In moments, they were on him. Everything faded to black.
When he woke, he was on the ground in the middle of an amusement park. Japanese tourists walked by him, not noticing at the man in bloodied clothes lying on the floor. He sat up and …

Jason got the paper, but he didn’t “get” the paper. He was 8 and besides skimming the comics, which 99% of the time were painfully unfunny, it offered him nothing. Wars. Stocks. Underwear ads. Adult stuff. But daily, for his father, he retrieved the latest copy from the lawn before the sprinklers began their morning soaking.
Today’s headline caught his eye immediately. Now, he couldn’t understand all the words he read, but he got the gist. This was news. Important kid news. What they knew all along, confirmed. In print. …