Thursday, June 26, 2008

If you're made of calcium, I'll have to take a taste

From the song "MX Missiles."

In Bad Taste

The five senses are supposedly equally important, but Tommy had a favorite. Sight, hearing, smell, touch—sure, they had their uses, they were probably even necessary for daily life, but those weren’t the senses he used to really understand the world.

Since he never seemed to get sick from it, Tommy’s parents encouraged his oral explorations, appreciating their son’s unique learning style. They took an odd pride in watching him run his tongue over surfaces, discovering new textures and tastes.

That is, until the day Tommy became curious about animals and decided to find out how the dog’s insides worked.

Elizabeth's story

Sunday, June 22, 2008

I had not become a cephalopod

From the song "Opposite Day."


Harold awoke to the sun streaming onto his face. He felt refreshed; everything seemed right in the world. Yawning, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then froze.

Something was very wrong.

Pulling his arms away from his face, Harold stared at them in horror. He cried out—terrible, primal sounds.

Penny came quickly. When she saw him she stopped. “Oh, Harold.”

He was pale, deflated. “Look at me. I’m a monster.”

Penny caressed his human hands with her tentacles. “Curse or no curse, I’ll always love you. But, the next time you cross a Sea Witch, apologize, okay?”

Link to Elizabeth's story

Saturday, June 21, 2008

The sky is full of zeros and ones

My friend Elizabeth and I are playing a game: once or twice a week, we pick a line from a song by Andrew Bird and write a drabble inspired by it (as loosely or as closely as possible). I think the goal of the project (besides doing some regular writing) is to see how differently we use the lines.

Anyway, the first line is "The sky is full of zeros and ones," from the song "Masterfade."

Zeros and Ones

“Son, let me tell you something. There’s two kinds of people in this world: winners and losers. You’re either a zero or a one.”

Sam’s dad put his arm around his son’s shoulders, but Sam knew it wasn’t an affectionate gesture. He didn’t know which kind of person it meant his father thought he was.

“You don’t want to be a zero, do you?”

Sam looked at his father and suddenly, for the first time, he saw him for what he really was: self-important, bigoted, a hollow shell. A zero.

Shrugging away his father’s arm, Sam turned and headed home.

Link to Elizabeth's story