Oddly, I’ve never read anything by Kurt Vonnegut.
I’ve always suspected I’d like his writing.
So, I’ve finally picked up a copy of Slaughterhouse Five.
So it goes.
Short Fiction: The Perils of Open Hand
This is a very short story I wrote a while back. I dusted it off and thought I’d throw it up at fictionaut. Here is a short excerpt:
There are worse things than getting your ass kicked by a 12 year old Puerto Rican kid. This was exactly my thinking as he stood over me, his pre-pubescent screams sounding like a baby Bruce Lee, preparing to finish me off.
Then, I passed out.
I came to and learned I had two broken fingers on my left hand, a hyper-extension and a nasty middle finger sprain on my right. This was the catalyst for my realization that I was not cut out for Karate.
Give it a read. Especially if you’re thinking about taking karate.
I have begun reading Forty Stories by Anton Chekhov. What fantastic satire. What wonderful observation.
Read Unpleated
Unpleated is a short fiction satire I wrote a while back. Thought I’d share it. Here is a brief excerpt:
So here was my conclusion: all things being equal—because I, too, was funny and smart and clever—the biggest part of his success could be directly tied to his clothes. I called it his cool guy uniform. And if we wanted to get into specifics, the one real differentiator were his pants. Where as I went around in my pleated Haggar wrinkle-free washables, he gallivanted around here unpleated, uncuffed, and unconcerned. He was brash and care-free and everyone knew it cause he had nothing to hide. He was unpleated.
Hey, you can tell a lot about a man by the type of pants he wears.