Two-ton Tommy, wrestling champ, was lonely, unloved, perpetually hungry. Heading for Vegas’ grandest buffet, he foiled an attempted rape.
“My Hero!” the woman cried. “You saved me. How can I repay?”

“I’ve never tasted the joys of love. Would you give me your heart?”

“Yes!”

She gave it.

He ate it.
Michael Kechula

“There’s nothing gets my blood boiling like a dirty copper.”

“Kill me and they’ll never stop looking.”

Priest’s cackle cut to the bone as he lit a cigarette one-handed. “They’ll never know squire.”

The .45 spat twice. DS Minto; dead before the shots stopped reverberating.
As Priest left he sang, “I shot the sheriff….”
Alan [...]

It was that Bartholomew discovered that the days had no connection with each other. Sleep severed the “rope” that represented time as segments. Each segment bore no relevance to the last, nor next. Bartholomew strolled through life with this knowledge hunched on his shoulders- until the weight eventually crushed him
Julien Edmund Moss

The blonde Viking laundrywoman wears her braids up. She works the washers and dryers throughout the night. She’s easy to speak with at break time. Her sharp-tongued girlfriend stridently mars the hospital hallways with the black heels of her white boots. I’m continuously mopping and polishing the floors.
Offbeatjim Wittenberg

“Meet me at a coffee shop; I don’t do that bar mitzvah scene anymore.” Just about the time her Xanax ran out, she dyed her hair a blacker shade of black, pierced another body part, and logged on as Mishegoth.
Tommy Mac

Bodies bled all over the floor. I couldn’t tell whose smile was bigger: yours, my son, or mine. After we watched Sesame Street, I decided it was yours.
M.E. Purfield

My roommate is here because she fell.
She has fallen seven times in her 83 years and has the stories to prove it!
She tells them all day….over and over.
While the lucky ones roam the hallways in their wheelchairs; I am in traction.
It doesn’t help to fake sleep.

Lin Haberman

Their eyes met. Her breasts pressed against his chest. His thigh pushed between hers and his lips were everywhere.
They bounced and shook.
Her husband drove his Plymouth down the dirt road. At every jolt he heard the thump of his wife’s and best friend’s dismembered bodies in the boot.
Bill West

Mismatched chairs surround folding metal table.  Plastic armies of sworn allegiance align and oppose on fields of red and black squares.  Dogs pay no mind, tongues in dirt, pumping hot air from shrink-wrapped bodies.  Crows stir the heat and hold the sky.  Red checkers jump black.  King me.
Richard Osgood