The Dow (I)
At times harsh like hail,
Or can be steady as rain
Is the Dow’s nature.
The Dow (II)
At times bad weather,
Crystal ball cannot predict
Dow Jones’ twitchiness.
Thank you again for thinking of me, dear fellow bloggers at bookidote.wordpress.com. I sincerely was going to do the challenge. I went to the library and chose two books with appealing covers. But, when I reread your instructions, I missed the part about the books having to be well-known. What I had chosen were not so well-known. Since it was already late at night and I didn’t want to run into vampires, I decided to make do with what I have — my imagination and the books I checked out. I merged them and came up with a potential bestseller. I also thought since I’m making things up, I’ll alter the popular reviewer, Goodreads, as you will see below. It turned out to be a challenge, just not the kind you expected.
Book Cover & Blurb:

Airplane image from rgbstock/Gary Romin
ShouldReads: “In one word: harharhar. I laughed so hard my panties fell down and I tripped and I got a black eye, but I still couldn’t help laughing. Even now, I’m barely able to type this review because I’m wetting myself and I don’t have any panties to contain it. So, I recommend you wear Depends when you read this debut novel. Two very different groups clash like orange and scarlet or purple and yellow. The ultimate revenge thriller, on-the-edge-of-your-seat-trying-to-balance-yourself-on-the-toilet page-turner. Har, har, har!”
[BTW: The books I checked out were A Pimp’s Notes by Giorgio Faletti and The Subprimes by Karl Taro Greenfield; I don’t know what either books are about because I never read their blurbs. They are back at the library if you want to check them out.]
©2015 Karina Pinella
Evan hides behind his fifth eye because he’s shy. He wears his button down shirt that’s a glimpse short in the cuffs. The bottom of his pants tends to cling to his polyester socks. The black horn-rimmed glasses he wears is the original pair his grandfather wore when he was younger way back when. Some would say Evan has no fashion sense, but he wouldn’t care because he’s too wrapped up in his hobby. He likes to take pictures and longs for an audience to view them. For now, the only one who seems to show a semblance of interest is Marcy, the only co-worker who gives him the time of day.
He stops by her desk on his way to get more copy paper for the printer. “Hey, Marcy, want to see my father’s vegetable garden?” Evan swipes on his Android to show her the photo gallery of the different variety of squashes, eggplants, and cucumbers he composed last night.
“Cool. They’re awesome.”
“I really appreciate your kind words, Marcy. Someday I’d like to have an exhibit. But instead of frames hanging on walls, I would have one huge monitor that I would swipe with a special wand so I can see the people’s faces looking at each shot.”
Marcy nods and says, “Speaking of monitors, I better get going before Bob comes here and gives me a hard time.” She motions her head toward Bob’s direction, which makes Evan turn around, so she swivels to face her computer. When Evan turns back her way, she is busily clicking on her mouse. He puts away his smartphone and returns to the task of getting a ream of copy paper. Just then his smartphone vibrates, indicating that it is lunchtime.
He decides to table the task and go back to his desk to retrieve his gym bag. His parents gave him a gym membership as a Christmas present last year, and six months into the new year now, he has yet to use it. Last night while organizing photos on his smartphone, they told him he had better start going now, or they won’t give him any more presents.
The gym is only a subway stop away from his office, so he gets there quickly enough. He changes and decides to walk briskly on the treadmill to start. After about 10 minutes, he gets tired and decides to do some exercises on the machines, following the instructions posted on each one. After about 15 minutes of trying out the different mechanisms, he heads back to the locker room and takes a shower. As he soaps under his arms, a repeating electronic siren sounds off, with each round escalating in loudness. He is momentarily stunned and quickly scrambles out of the stall. People around him are grabbing their clothes and putting them on. A man comes in and shouts, “Everyone out now! Please exit to the door behind me.”
Although Evan has opened his locker door, he hears the man shout again, “Everyone out now.” Still feeling disoriented, Evan’s first thought is to rescue his Android out of the locker. He then runs out of the locker room in a panic. Once outside, he realizes he’s wearing no clothes. The poor sap is in his full glory with only a smartphone screening his groin. His back is against the wall of the building. That’s when he gets an epiphany and powers up his phone. He opens his photo gallery app and, with the smartphone still shielding his genitalia, the screen showing outward, he flashes his shots to the people who are starting to notice him and looking below his waist.
He’s got their attention. This is his moment. He swipes through his screen to show off the variety of colorful vegetables he arranged the night before. He further enlarges the pictures to better fill his 5 ½” screen.
“Hey, bud, is that an iPud?”
Evan ignores the snide remark and hears only music in his ears when someone exclaims, “Wow! Look at the size of that zucchini.”
©2015 Karina Pinella

©2015 Karina Pinella
A short stack of dried human skin trimmed into 8 ½” x 11” pages sat on the desk as Walter Penn pondered on his next flesh fiction. He considered the title, Flayed Minion, in memory of the owner who was formerly bound by the parchment on which he will now scribe with maroon lettering. His ink flowed through a special pen cartridge connected to a tube attached to a hypodermic needle full of citric acid solution, mixed with blood from an unwilling human aorta donor. Continue reading
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