With His Knife – Page 3

“So, Nicole,” he said, turning back to his cooking, “Why were you outside my door?”

With His Knife

Page 3

“I was going to visit a friend.”  He considered this.

“Your friend lives in this building?”

“Yeah, down the hall.”

“Will she be worried?”

“What?” Nicole asked.

“Your friend.  Wasn’t she expecting you?”

“Oh, right.  I should hurry on over.”

“I won’t keep you, then.  Nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you,” she agreed, standing up, “Thanks for letting me use your bed.”

“Glad to help.  Go see your friend.”

Someone was knocking on the door.  Irritated, Anthony stood up, abandoning his lunch.  Why did people always have to show up while he was in the middle of something?

“Yes?” he asked, pulling open the door, “What do you want?”

It was Nicole.  Why was she here?  She couldn’t have been gone for more than fifteen minutes.

“Nicole?  I thought you went to see your friend.”

“I did,” said the girl, “But she wouldn’t answer the door, so then I tried calling her, and she didn’t answer that either!  This has never happened to me before and now I don’t have anywhere to go and I don’t know what to do!”  She was crying now.

“Do you want to come inside and tell me what happened?”

She sniffled.  “Can I?”

Anthony stepped aside to let her pass.  “Of course.  Come in.  Sit.”

The girl shuffled into the apartment and took a seat at the table.  Anthony closed the door and sat across from her.  “So, what’s wrong?”

Nicole fidgeted a bit.  “Will you tell anyone?”


“You have to promise not to tell anyone.”


She hesitated for a moment.  “I ran away from home.”

Anthony wasn’t sure what to say to this.  He finally decided on, “Why?”

The girl looked at him helplessly.  “It’s not safe there.”

He waited for a clarification but none came.  “Why do you say that?”

  1. [removed]
  2. Her mother is a serial killer.
  3. She’s afraid that the police might find her.
  4. The house is trying to kill her.
Thursday, January 6th, 2011 Choose Your Own Adventure 1 Comment

The Temperament of Certain Apes and a Shark

As cute as you might think monkeys are, they’re evil little bastards.  They’ll steal your stuff, beat you with it, and run off.  They’ll beg you for food, only to bite your hand when you try to give them some.  They don’t care that you just want to hang out with them.  You are not a monkey and that is offensive to them.  Also, they smell like fecal catastrophe.

Gorillas, on the other hand, are chill.  A gorilla knows that he could rip your limbs off if he wanted to, and he’s secure in this knowledge.  So long as you don’t piss him off, he’ll let you do as you wish.  If you play your cards right, he’ll even learn sign language just to tell you how much cooler than you he is.

The whale shark, too, is a rad guy.  He’s so big that you are insignificant in comparison.  Wanna swim next to him?  No problem!  You can join the veritable army of fishes that use him as an express train system.  Just be careful not to get in front of him; that gaping maw sucks in everything that happens to be in his path.

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Thursday, January 6th, 2011 Thoughts No Comments

Random Thoughts From Japan

Apparently sake isn’t terrible.  You just need to heat it first.

Melon Fanta?  Why don’t we have this in the states?

I love how much more common thigh-highs are over here.  Next time on Things That Turn Me On: detached sleeves.

I’m going to the atomic bomb museum in Hiroshima.  There is something distinctly American about bombing the shit out of a country and then paying them to see the wreckage.

I don’t eat pork because I am Jewish and I don’t eat seafood because I am weird.  Perhaps going to Japan, where those are two of the primary things that are eaten, was a mistake.

What is it with beers and drinkability?  For that matter, what the hell is drinkability?  As far as I’m concerned, something is drinkable if it is a liquid that doesn’t destroy your esophagus on the way down.  Arsenic-spiked tea is drinkable.  Lava is not.  The beer companies are clearly using some other definition.

I like that there’s a guy by the train ticket gate machines whose job consists mostly of saying “thanks” every time somebody passes by.

English’s relative simplicity with respect to grammar (specifically, the minimal conjugation) makes it easier to work with in some ways, but the cost for this is a loss of subtlety.  Contrast this with Hebrew; a good chunk of Biblical commentary is concerned with grammatical oddities, such as God using the plural form of “you” when talking specifically to Moses.

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Saturday, December 25th, 2010 Thoughts 1 Comment

With His Knife – Page 2

As if in response, a loud thump came from the hallway.  He froze, unsure how to react.

With His Knife

Page 2

A moment’s consideration and the proper course of action revealed itself.  He put down his knife and stood up.  Self-consciously wiping the blood from his face, the man made his way to the door of the apartment.  The peephole revealed nothing.  Confused, he opened the door and looked out into the hall.

Crumpled in a heap at his doorstep was a girl.

Nicole opened her eyes.  Her migraines had never been that bad before.  Groaning, she put a hand to her face, sat up on the bed, and looked around.

She was in a small room.  The smell of copper hung heavy in the air.  The lights were off save for one small nightlight, and the two doors out were closed.  Nicole stumbled over to the one that couldn’t be a closet and winced as she turned on the lights.  The wallpaper had been designed by someone who clearly idolized Jackson Pollock but lacked his color palate.  The light hurt, too.  She quickly turned them back off and, hoping for a more modest source of illumination, opened the door.  Her wish was not granted.

“Oh, you’re up,” said a figure, “I was starting to worry that I’d need to take you to the hospital.  I hate hospitals,” it added.

Nicole blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted.  It was a man talking to her, mildly handsome despite needing a shave.  He was wearing an apron.  In fact, this new room was a kitchen.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“You’re in my apartment.  It seemed prudent to let you have my bed.”  Sensing her wariness, the man continued, “You collapsed outside my front door.  Don’t you remember?”

“Now that you mention it, yes.  I had a migraine.”  Her forehead pounded.  “Have a migraine.  Who are you?”

“Anthony Miller.  I’m an actor.  You?”

“I’m Nicole.  I’m a rising senior.”

“Ah.  High school.”  Anthony’s expression darkened momentarily.  An awkward pause followed.  “So, Nicole,” he said, turning back to his cooking, “Why were you outside my door?”

  1. She lives in the same building.
  2. She ran away from home and a friend lives in the building.
  3. She was visiting a client in the building.
  4. She doesn’t remember how she got there.
Wednesday, December 8th, 2010 Choose Your Own Adventure 4 Comments

First Fall

The sky had never felt as far away as it did now that I had caught it.  As far up as I was, I could see an eternity stretching out beyond me.  I was all too aware that I had merely brushed against the surface of the beyond.

And then, from above, I saw an angel descending.  The Heavens parted for her passage and I knew that she was mine.  But as she fell, I became afraid.  Was she falling for my sake?  When she dropped to my level, would she still be the pristine goddess I saw, or would her descent twist her into a shapeless, godless horror?

“Stop!” I yelled, “Go back!” I couldn’t let that happen.  I needed her, but that didn’t matter.

She looked at me then and smiled, her beauty suddenly blinding, before turning and plunging into the depths.

“No!” I cried, falling after her.  The clouds took me in, pulling me closer to my angel.  Suddenly, everything pulled away, leaving us alone in the middle of an endless black emptiness.

“Help me,” my love said.  I paused.


And then I


my eyes.

Sunday, December 5th, 2010 Falling No Comments

With His Knife – Page 1

I’d like to do an experiment in writing with a deadline.  Normally I write fairly slowly, and I want to see if I can change that.  Therefore, I’ll be writing a Choose Your Own Adventure!  I’ll try to post at least once a week.  This first one will be short, but I’ll try to make future sections longer.

With His Knife

Page 1

“I told you, didn’t I?” he shouted. “I told you to leave well enough alone!”

It was rhetorical at this point.  Her blood splattered the walls, and her eyes stared the unblinking, uncomprehending stare of the dead.

“Why didn’t you listen to me?” It dripped off his face as he stabbed again and again, a macabre liquid mask. “Why?  Why won’t you answer?  Answer me!”

As if in response, a loud thump came from the hallway.  He froze, unsure how to react.

What did he do?

  1. Ignore the sound and clean up.
  2. Go see what it was.
  3. Panic and escape through the window.
  4. Not have time to react; the police burst in immediately afterward.
Thursday, December 2nd, 2010 Choose Your Own Adventure 3 Comments

Dropbox vs. Windows Live Mesh

At first glance, Dropbox and Windows Live Mesh seem pretty much the same; they’re both file synchronizers.  On the core level, I suppose this is true.  The details, however, change things a lot.

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Wednesday, December 1st, 2010 Thoughts No Comments

Ein Traumatische Traum

The German word for dream is Traum.  Meanwhile, the German word for trauma is, well, Trauma.  I wonder, are they somehow related?


Thursday, November 18th, 2010 Thoughts 1 Comment

No Salvation – Day 2102

"I’ll carry her back," I said, stepping over to the girl.  William pulled himself up and watched curiously as I picked her up.  We walked back in silence.

"Should we take her to the hospital?" William asked after we cleared the Fog.

"No, there’s nothing they can do for her," I responded. "I’ll take care of her for now."

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Monday, November 8th, 2010 Fragments No Comments

DNA is Not Magic

I always find it irritating when writers use a character’s genetics as an excuse for how they have magical powers.  Our intrepid heroes, having been exposed to cosmic rays or sea slug stem cells or something, find that they now have the power to turn invisible, make things float in the air, or even set things on fire with their mind.  Setting aside the fact that changes to the genetic structure of a preexisting creature do not cause the creature to suddenly morph accordingly, there’s still the problem of physics.  All of these special powers violate some vital law of physics, usually Newton’s third law or the first law of thermodynamics.  These laws aren’t coded into your genetic code, just waiting for the right gene to come along and ignore them.  They’re hardcoded into the universe itself.


Saturday, November 6th, 2010 Thoughts 2 Comments