Sanders and Sanders Go Shopping
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- Community Prose
- 02/05/13
- Damien M. DiPlacido
- Hits: 494
And out of my coat pockets they fell. Four colorfully adorned, crisply illustrated packs of NFL trading cards: The fabulous Fleer Ultra, the uniquely hologram-cornered Upper Deck, the timeless Topps, and last but not least, what collector could forget the generic looking Pro Set? All the cards were in the new-age crinkly wrappers, the style of the late 80s, early 90s, just waiting to be painstakingly opened and their contents extricated with the yanking lull of gentle fingers.
Rags to Riches
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- Community Prose
- 12/11/12
- Dani Van Fleet
- Hits: 205
He sat on the hard cold transit bench with the entire dirt of the week clinging so close to him it appeared to be a best friend. The brown crinkled bag half torn and half empty from a pint of discount whiskey he clutched in his one big paw like his savior; quizzically the whiskey he pondered was this bottle a reflection of the last half of his life, was the bottle half full or half empty, would there be other bottles or was this the final one. He decided to find out and with one gigantic swig he drank to his life and felt the warm stream settle into his gullet and confirm he was still alive.
The Legend of Kamo'ili'ili
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- Community Prose
- 08/23/12
- wickedwahine_69
- Hits: 399
The neighborhood of the hill near the old Hawaiian church named Kamo’ili’ili acquired its name through this story --- Kamo'ili'ili literally translates into “Pebble Lizard”. It is said that one day, long ago, three friends were traveling across this land. Hi’iakaikapolio Pele (the younger sister of Pele the volcano goddess) and two of her friends, Lohiau, and Wahineomao. (Lohiau was a handsome chief from Kauai and Wahineomao was a friend of Hi’iakaikapolio.) They were walking along together, when all of the sudden there was a powerful gust of wind.
Tyler Two-Fingers
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- Community Prose
- 11/20/12
- Damien M. DiPlacido
- Hits: 339
Tyler sat across from the granite-crowned bar top, sipping Sprite from a paper cup and poking at the screen on his phone. His bright white chef coat was yet to be blazoned with a single marinara stain. The gleaming blades of his machine sharpened knife set rested next to his arm on the lacquered table, and on top of that, waited his folded kitchen beanie, ready to get its first shot at the hot world outside of its plastic wrapping. Tyler anticipated the arrival of the general manager, trying to relax in the plush bench of the booth. On the wall above his head full of pomade-smeared hair, was an autographed team photo of the local minor league baseball team.
Satan's Breeze
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- Community Prose
- 08/22/12
- Eugene Chun
- Hits: 347
I’ve always hated the night, especially when it thunders outside and the rain comes in cold, hard sheets...and when I am by myself. He always announces his presence when I least expect him to. And, when the lightning glaringly streaks across the midnight sky and strong gusts of wind eerily snuff out the cherry of my cigarette, I know he is nearby. He hates it when I smoke and never bothers to talk to me when I do and comes at the most inopportune moments.
