When the apocalypse started, I went to IKEA. I knew the world was going to end as soon as we touched down in Denver, but I caught my connecting flight anyway. I didn’t want to die in Colorado. When we… Continue Reading
Ask any staff member of the Creative Street Ad Agency and they’ll gladly regale you with the legend of Tim Mulligan. An accomplished ad man, Tim exuded true passion for his role, his company, and its people. He was touted… Continue Reading
As soon as I heard myself say, “I’m gonna fill the car up at BJ’s on my way back from the gym,” I knew I had made a mistake. I swear I could see my wife’s ears perk up, cocker… Continue Reading
He tipped the bottle straight up over the glass and shook it. Nothing came out. Empty. After a few failed attempts to set the bottle upright, he laid it on its side and watched it roll the length of the… Continue Reading
“Come on! I can’t believe we’re having this discussion again. You mind keeping it down?” A very nice vase is thrown against the wall. “Seriously? I’m trying to catch up on Game of Thrones and you’re throwing stuff now? That… Continue Reading
Martha White sat tied to a folding chair in her pink pajamas and kitty slippers. She passed the morning by licking off the sticky of her duct tape gag and planning her revenge. There was no need to involve the… Continue Reading
“Well, it’s now or never, Sparks,” Renee Tormé, the bar manager, said as she handed me a pint of Hamm’s. “Ha! Get it? Now or Never?” “Got it,” I said, taking a gulp of beer. It was now or never.… Continue Reading
Fred sighed and rubbed the ball of fire in his lower back and opened the door. In the short term losing the job could be good for his back, no more hunching at a desk all day, but long term?… Continue Reading
You know the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow story. A leprechaun named Fred, living in Iowa, taught my wife and me it’s true. Sort of. We were visiting our old haunts in Iowa City last March.… Continue Reading
A werewolf isn’t always a werewolf. Sometimes it’s the old grocer who places the bread at the bottom of the bag; sometimes it’s the irredeemably handsome bartender with a crooked smile, packs of cigarettes filling his pockets like playing cards.… Continue Reading