She was trimming her herb garden, busily pulling out all the weeds, removing the diseased or dying parts of otherwise viable plants.
Some varieties of herbs she’d planted were proliferating more than expected, stifling others.
That wouldn’t do.
“What’cha doin’ ?” asked her neighbor.
“Oh, right now, I’m just killing thyme.”
After the chlorophyll plague swept through the planet’s vegetation, the few remaining plants and trees became very rare and precious.
But I found a solution. I build concrete gardens. Wood, even dead wood, is scarce. But the rocks needed for concrete are everywhere.
Really wish I had green paint, though.
“I just finished my new rock opera.”
“What’s it about?”
“Love, death, suffering… and bunnies.”
“Bunnies?”
“Gotta have bunnies!”
“Why?”
“They’re universal.”
“How so?”
“Bunnies never leave anyone indifferent.”
“Not true. I don’t care about bunnies. Your opera’s a lie!”
“Then you won’t mind if I kill this bunny, here.”
FROM: THE WRITER
TO: PRESIDENT ABRAHAM LINCOLN
FORD’S THEATRE
APRIL 14TH 1865
THIS MESSAGE WAS SENT FROM 200 YEARS IN THE FUTURE STOP
THE PEOPLE OF EARTH WISH TO THANK YOU FOR YOUR INCOMPARABLE SERVICE TO HUMANITY STOP
ALSO WHEN YOU HEAR THE LINE: “YOU SOCK-DOLOGIZING OLD MAN-TRAP” REMEMBER TO DUCK STOP
Professor Threelemmings had finally completed his device.
“This device,” he announced to his assistants, “will rid the world, nay, the entire universe, of something completely unneeded. Activate the device.”
There was a sudden flash!
“What’s disappeared?” asked an assistant.
“Nothing, it seems,” said a disappointed Professor Twolemmings, after looking around.
Blogger’s note: apologies for missing yesterday. In an attempt to redeem myself, there will be two stories today.
He wasn’t interested in fantasy, anymore. Reality had to be his focus.
He had no patience for allegory anymore. Satire? Might as well waste everybody’s time by avoiding the point.
No.
What he would say next, he would mean. No more dicking around.
He opened his mouth and said, “I…”
The Vampire sat with his friend Jake, the Last Man on Earth.
“I’m so hungry,” said the Vampire.
“So, just eat something.”
“Only human flesh will do, but if I eat you, I won’t have a friend to talk to anymore.”
“You can’t have your Jake and eat him, too.”
The sage said, “Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for life!”
The customer service rep said, “Teach a man how to fish, he’ll ask you how to hunt, next. Then, he’ll ask you how fishing works, again.”
No one knew where the puzzle came from, but now you couldn’t go out in public without seeing at least one person trying to solve it.
The first person who solved it committed suicide.
“Their brains are not evolved enough to encompass the 21-dimensional manifold of hyperspace,” concluded the aliens.
He was in a sequel. He knew it.
Everything that was happening had happened before, except that now, everything was bigger, almost overblown. The stakes were higher, the consequences of failure more dire.
The shame of it was, even with everything more impressive, the result wasn’t any better.
Worse, actually.