Behind You! Story Nuggets

Love In The Time of Garbage

I was down at the city dump, spinning around and making myself dizzy. After a while, as I am wont to do occasionally when spinning in circles, I fell to the ground. When I looked up, I noticed the most beautiful flower, standing proudly among the mountains of garbage. I considered its beauty for a moment, and wished I had a camera. “Wow,” I thought to myself, “It really smells in here.”

Man's Man

      “Let’s go out tonight,” Dave said. “Get nice and hammered.” He heard Luke pause, and knew that, once again, he would be drinking alone. “Come on man,” he continued. “It’ll be fun.”
    Luke explained that he already had plans. “I’m going to take Denise out to a nice dinner at Il Dulce, then bring her back and crack open a nice bottle of wine. Then, I’m going to take her to bed, tear her clothes off and fuck her, long and hard. After that, I’m going to take her to the shower and fuck her again. After that, we’ll make some ice cream sundaes. Then fuck.”
    Dave sighed. “Dude, you’re so gay now.”

More Better

Even before he saw the woman, standing there on the train tracks, he knew trouble was afoot. He heard the chug-a-lug of the engine and saw the look of obliviousness on her face. Maybe she was deaf, or maybe she had one of those stupid bluetooth things in her ear. Whatever the case, as he stood on the other side of the station, he knew he had to call out to her, let her know that she was in harm’s, and the train’s way. He cupped his hands around his mouth and licked his lips. Just as the word “Hey--” was about to leave him, he remembered that day his father took him aside, and said: “Never raise your voice to a woman.” He always was a stickler for the rules.

The Stripey Horses

    My friend Jeff once gave me some advice that changed my life. It was so eloquent, so beautifully stated that I stood up in my chair and hit myself over the head with my shoe, all while going, “Wowza wowza wowza” and so forth. Anyway, I’m pretty sure it had something to do with zebras.

 

The Basket Question

    They always say never put all your eggs in one basket. But what if you can only afford one basket? What if your other baskets are damaged, and structurally unreliable? What if your arm got cut off somehow, and, in your condition you can only carry one basket? How did your arm get cut off? Maybe it was in a basket-making accident. So really, what has all this basket talk gotten you? A bunch of shitty, unusable baskets and a lopped off arm. That’s why, whenever someone tells me to not put all my eggs in one basket, I look them square in the eye and say, “Fuck you.”