Afterthoughts for Cleaning House

This afterthought is my own. The views, opinions and past stories of my life are in no way a reflection of how the folks at Pen of the Damned feel. If you read this before reading “Cleaning House”, then you’re a silly goose. Go read that first and make sure to give your support to…

Cleaning House

The blinds were shut, and that meant it was Thursday. It was the only day of the week when Brent would remove himself from the floor. He’d lock his door, turn off the fluorescent lights, and play seventies rock; usually Zeppelin or Sabbath. This was his office time, the time he dedicated to monotonous managerial…

Devil Is In The Details

Her eyes speak volumes, assuring him it will be as it was; it will be alright. He knows it won’t be—it can’t be. Nothing escapes the scrutiny of the incandescent lighting above their heads. No dark space exists for him in which to hide. He scrubs the stubble along his chin. “It’s coming out amazing,…

An Update for Ya!

Hey gang, How are things? I hope well. I wanted to come and drop some of what is going on in my life for you all. My new job is almost at baseline status in regards to my weekly schedule. I’ve been taking a class and working overtime, so I knew the first few weeks…

Pillow Fight

Barry received the ax from G & L Fabrications. Temporary lack of work evolved to an indefinite separation. Unemployment sufficed for basic necessities and Candice paid the bills while maintaining two High Schoolers’ upkeep and the minor needs of their youngest. They made it, and Barry was content, yet Candice felt betrayal sink in like…

Rounding Numbers

Jankowski was an odd fellow. He locked his house at night like everyone else, except when five minutes lapsed—to the second, mind you—Jankowski made an extra trip downstairs to check each deadbolt, twice. Permanent markers stained his bathroom sink so he knew how far to twist each knob; red for hands, blue for teeth. Every…

Call of the Sumac

Children hear it first, and regardless. Whispers embrace new life like flint creating spark and blaze that is warm as the swaddles of a mother’s encroaching womb. Hums caress like gentle kisses of wind gliding between broad leaves and fir needles as crawling infancy advances to a toddler’s stumble. The tall grass parts way, allowing…