Posts Tagged ‘Hell’
Sep
The Hell Cow
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She was no ordinary cow. You could tell immediately by the indecent way she chewed her cud. She almost licked her lips with anticipation. She understood it was wrong, but she chewed anyway.
No heifer had ever embraced all seven deadly sins with such fervor. She had long ago discarded her pastoral virtues, no longer content to play her role of milk-giver. She delighted in corrupting others from her herd. There was no possibility of redemption, and woe to anyone who crossed her path.
And there she was, the infernal bovine, munching the grass in my front lawn. Damn her.
Dec
Glass House
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She’d built it metaphorically, to point out the fragility of our realities. If it earned her six figures, well she had to make a living.
Now she was confined inside a true house of glass, forever damned to clean windows, and floors and walls. Her fingers tasted of windex.
The worst part was the audience of gawkers and art critics parading past, taunting her with their stones and opaque clothing. They recycled themselves incessantly, and their presence was a constant reminder of her former hubris.
You see, the devil believes in metaphors too, and in prisons of our own making.
Jul
Little Motel
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
There is a stretch of highway where the tallest foliage is a three foot cactus. Shade is a commodity nearly as precious as water.
Blake sat on the porch of the Sierra Motel, staring at the horizon. His vision plumed and prismed in the heat, causing him to hallucinate. Or maybe he was already in Hell.
Blake lamented having to meet death with the lingering caress of rough linen on his skin and greasy cheeseburgers on his breath, but like his mom used to say, you get what you deserve.
At least he’d gotten one last night of decent sleep.
May
Statler And Waldorf’s Bogus Journey
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Welcome to Hell, boys.”
The two old men took a gander at their new home.
“This place is wonderful.”
“Bravo.”
“I love it.”
“This is great!”
The sweat started to stream down their temples.
“Well, it’s pretty good.”
“Well, it isn’t bad.”
“There are parts of it that aren’t very good though.”
“It could be a lot better.”
The eternal torment begins.
“I don’t really like it.”
“It’s pretty terrible.”
“It’s bad.”
“It’s awful!”
“It’s terrible!”
“Get us out of here.”
“Boo!”
“I know it’s too late now, but I have so many regrets about how we lived our lives.”
Apr
The Seafarer’s Guild
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The Seafarer’s Guild had very few requirements. Even the worst rapscallions and scalawags gained admittance for the right amount of gold. It got to the point that Sir Francis Drake, seeking to protect what was left of his good name, withdrew his membership rather than be associated with the Guild any longer.
Calico Jack had no such compunction. Moral qualms were a disorder for weak men fearful of Hell. Jack figured no Hell could be worse than the Hell of the high seas.
It was not long after Jack’s death that the Seafarer’s Guild began requiring a thorough background check.