The New Purgatory

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It was liver spot roll call time. There were some new faces.

As he lay dying in a hospice, Seymour Franklin, was in a serious predicament. The lobe in his brain that catered to his communication skills fried out during the last stroke, his third, if you are counting. He could hear. He could smell. He could comprehend. But he could not move, nor speak. It sucked to be him.

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From Small Things Mama

Design for the Iphone 18

Design for the iPhone 17

Chip Masters was fed up, and it was apparent in his posture. Usually, he stands at 6’4”, but today, he was compressed, hunched over at 6’1”. How many more phones could he possibly lose this year? He lost count after nine, and it was only March.

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Cannibal Junior High

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The cafeteria, also known as the dining hall or the canteen. A place where children coerce their peers to laugh so hard they snarf-barf milk out of their nostrils.

Joe leaned forward, “Hey, you gonna eat that?” He pointed to either a large fingernail or a small toenail.

Donny picked it up and studied it, and then casually tossed it on Joe’s tray, “Have at it.”

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