The Tattooed Tree

Naked and trembling, Trevor stops to catch his breath. Already he feels the curse cast upon him. The tattoos on his stiffening torso become more pronounced, resembling wall-sized etchings.

His arms shoot upward, branching outward, simultaneously dividing into limbs of various density. Immobile, his legs fuse together, while his feet extend out all around him. His toes multiply, scattering and digging deep below the earth at the same time.

Moisture penetrates throughout his whole being, or whatever self-awareness is left. The last thought as he can describe it as such is that he wishes, out of all the tattoos he has, he had avoided the heart with Her name carved on it. He didn’t know she would take it to heart and act as if she owned him.

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Crushin’ Roulette

Image: Pixabay

Image: Pixabay

Pete has mixed feelings as he listens to Joe about Rose. At one time, Pete thought she was the one who would end his self-imposed celibacy. It was a close call, but now he’s glad he waited. Ironically, it was the waiting that ruined their relationship, but in many ways saved him after he found out more about her.
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Bro’, You Heavy

My bro’ is stew, or in the sewers. I am sorry for what I did, but I was tired.

Bub, my bro’, weighed a ton. For breakfast, he would eat six bowls of Honey Monster Puffs, five fried eggs, four strawberry Pop-Tarts, three buttered waffles, two thick slabs of bacon, and a partridge in a pear tree. I exaggerate. He did not eat the tree. I will not bother writing the rest of what he would eat during the rest of the day; it will just make my journal look like a grocery list. And remind me how close to broke I was getting because food is not getting cheaper. It is a good thing I get to take home some leftovers from Hog Heaven, where I wash dishes and bus tables. I also get a 10% discount at the Food Mart, where I stock the shelves three days a week.
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