K. Pinella’s creative material
Image: Pixabay
The rat scrambles. It runs toward the subway tunnel to escape its stalker, who keeps yelling, “I love you. Please don’t go.” Droplets of tears slide down the young runaway’s scabbed face. His world appears to crumble; he just wants something to care for since no one else cares about him.
Hadley’s heinous hiney halted hairy hooligans.
Image: Pixabay
Princess Beulah blows her top when she learns her royal crush, Prince Roland, celebrated his birthday without inviting her. She unfriended him from her Facebook and dropped him from her Snapchat. Taking out her bejeweled diary, she writes:
He’s just another minion,
A bunion to excise,
An onion not worth crying over.
No longer my major attraction,
I shall speak to my father,
And ask him to make way in his dungeon.
Watch out, Rolly, old flame,
Soon your head will fall
And permanently adorn my wall.
Image: Pixabay
“What this messed up world needs is to be new-cleared.”
“Just because everything seems to be going to hell doesn’t mean we deserve to be nuked.”
“We’re all nothing more than just pawns of the elite greedy liars we call leaders.”
“Still doesn’t mean we have to throw in the towel.”
“Look, I’m hungry, so let’s just end the game.”
The two old men clear the chess board and head out to get their daily lunch special.
Image by Anna
Be one with nature ‘n sh*t.
Space is tight inside Lu’s Launderette. Stacey finds herself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a man about her age. They’re both folding their shirts, pants, shorts, and undergarments. She starts feeling self-conscious as she knows it’s not her imagination that he’s been surreptitiously eyeing her lace-trimmed thongs and silk teddies. Her face reddens when he catches her eyes.
He smiles and says, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m wondering where you buy your underthongs.”
Stacey suppresses a laugh as she’s never heard such a term before, though they sound just as accurate as panties. She clears her throat to quell the urge to giggle and replies, “At Madam Madison a couple of blocks from here, actually.”
“Excellent. That’ll be my next stop, then. Hey, men wear those crotch covers too. Check this out.” He shows her a pair of black nylon thongs. “They’re comfortable, and as you know, they dry quickly.”
For a minute, Stacey doesn’t know how to respond. Then, she thinks, why not. She remembers her father wearing Speedos, why not thongs indeed?
“By the way, that’s a nice looking bra. Are those from the same place too?”
My father had man boobs, but he didn’t wear a bra, Stacey thinks. She hurriedly stuffs her last articles of clothing into a duffel bag and leaves without an answer.
Freddy is excited about lunch because he gets to try Spam for the first time. His mom told him she would serve it sometime this week and it is the end of the week, so he thinks today must be the day. He runs downstairs toward the dining room. As usual, he doesn’t wear his eyeglasses because they’re uncomfortable. But his myopic vision discerns a plate sitting on the dining table, which isn’t set but they’re an informal family. The closer he gets to the table, the better he is able to make out a pinkish, rectangular shaped piece of meat in the plate. Eagerly, he picks it up and bites down, but the texture is rubbery and the taste isn’t anything he’s ever had before.
“Dumbo!” Freddy turns around to the sound of his sister’s laughing.
“You’re eating my phone case. I left it there to soak in baking soda to get the stains off. Now, you put your teeth marks on it.” His sister charges over to him and grabs her case from his hands.
“Next time, wear your glasses, so you can see what you’re doing,” she says, as she walks away with her phone case and a faint smile.
Image: Pixabay
In a neighborhood not far from the city lives an elusive creature that few suspect is not human. Origin unknown and equally mysterious in how it sustains itself, the creature is looking outside, hiding behind the folds of the stained drapes that pepper the air with dust when moved even in the slightest way. The creature sees skipping down the sidewalk a little boy, who pauses in front of its house and picks up a pebble. The creature stays still. It rasps what sounds like “fiend” when the boy throws the small rock toward the creature’s shelter.
Image by Blogetta
The two long-time friends were just chillin’. Not a worry in the world. They were pig-headed about that. Once they set their minds to lounge, then lounge they would. They didn’t see any reason to run when the rangy man walked toward them with a hammer. Now they find themselves grillin’ on a hot bed.
Flash forward to a day at the park. This is the life. A sunny day and the sweet smell of charcoal wafting through the air. Just hangin’ out with a bangin’ crowd. A great summer start.
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Me and Mr. Pokey Pig (Version 2: a six-word story)
Just chillin’; this is the life.
Image: Pixabay
The boardroom is full today because the company’s former Chairman, Mr. Ralph Finley, is in attendance to make a special endowment to the R&D group, among others. Twenty people sit around the rectangular conference table, all waiting for Mr. Finley, who is having a coughing fit. In between blowing his nose, he mutters to them, “Allergies, I forgot to take something for them today.” The people murmur their understanding. Suddenly, Mr. Finley sneezes so hard, his dentures fly out of his mouth and clatter on the table. For a moment, no one seems to breathe; the only sound is the clacking of teeth.
Karina Pinella 
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