Under The Moonlight, We Rise Slowly

Posted on July 25, 2019 by sungmokoo

True stargazing is like the point of view of the guy singing “(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay.”

Dee Dee Flatts and Roman Roundandround had been staring at so many stars from the rooftop all night. Officially, it was their third date, and we all know what happens next if all goes well; the fourth date. Impatience lingered like a hungry pack of wolves, with slobbering anticipation, for they were young lovers on borrowed time.

This story takes place many years ago, back when you could see clusters of stars, a time before all the light and air pollution. Back when you could get an affordable and edible meat and cheese plate. Back when fruit tasted like something. Back when the news was on for only three hours a day. It was a simpler time. Nothing was so urgent that it couldn’t wait for the answering machine.

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Happiness Is Elusive

Posted on July 24, 2019 by sungmokoo

Little did this sextet realize, they were all thinking the exact same thing: happiness is elusive.

Audrey Mangella sighed loudly as he sat down to a cold microwaved burrito on a slightly used paper plate. His sigh was a manifestation of all of his shortcomings, including most notably, his name, which was obviously designated for a girl.

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Snail Mail

Posted on July 21, 2019 by sungmokoo

Back in my day, there was no email. There was just mail, and it wasn’t called snail mail either.

After six days had elapsed, Esther Noh received a letter from her beloved Arthur Treacherous. Everyday since his departure, Esther would sit on the stoop, drink coffee, smoke a Cuban cigar and groom her fabulous mustache, waiting for the mailman, appropriately named Marple Postman, Marp for short.

Esther grabbed the letter and immediately ran up the stairs, two steps at a time. Her breath quickened as she held the letter up to the sunlight. Her shaky hands held the well-worn letter opener, and odd beams of light danced on the wall, corresponding to the rhythm of her nerves.

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Hate Face

Posted on July 20, 2019 by sungmokoo

Legion4Shanghalla
Ernie Hemingway was pissed off. Seriously. He was supposed to be alone. He was not. This was supposed to be his first vacation in eight years. He needed it. Instead, he was laid up at the damn county hospital with a swollen gall bladder, or cholecystitis.