Ah! Schitz! Dang Dammo!
The man’s thumb had been in overdrive since ten in the morning. A day off meant lazy mornings, pots of black coffee, and too much time to spare. It was never enough just doing nothing, so Mel submitted to his part-time addiction, browsing the internet and stalking people on social media.
Mel, a small man, barely five-two, was a silent observer of the virtual world. Only breaking the quiet in his five-by-eight-foot room to bark his disdain, swearing at the screen and its damaging blue light.Keep On Reading!
Reading Time: 2 minutesAll I want is some ketchup. Nothing fancy. Just ketchup.
You can’t eat fries without ketchup. It’s just not done.
I ask the waitress one more time but rearrange my words for greater effect.
‘These fries look mighty lonely. How about some ketchup? Please.’
The ‘please’ is an afterthought. Her answer makes me want to take it back. Keep On Reading!
Reading Time: 2 minutesSwamy was the perfect example of a pleaser. In not so kind words, he was a butt-kisser. If his lips could find a noble behind, they were ready to do the job. He started out young. At home, the middle of five, his lips remained glued to his father’s rotund bottom. In school, always the teacher’s pet, Swamy mastered the art of gaining favors. Disgruntled with his shameless antics, his classmates smirked and sneered, wishing they too could latch on to an important backside.
Reading Time: 2 minutesA picture says a thousand words. I refuse to believe that horrid idiom. My picture says only one: ugly. Looks aren’t the problem here. I’m quite handsome for a man with thirty-two years behind him. Black hair, a full head by the way, brown eyes, dreamy some say, straight nose, strong jawline, firm mouth, makes the ladies sway.
Reading Time: 2 minutesEvery wish he had ever made had come true. He could be lying, but it served him no purpose. Eleven birthdays together, eleven beautiful cakes, eleven selfish wishes. Eleven reasons for me to believe that it wouldn’t be any different the twelfth time. But something was different. He hardly resembled the man I married. The distance between us had blurred him into a ball of fading colors. I was losing in the tug-of-war of hate. Was he aware of the game we were playing? I would soon find out.
Reading Time: 2 minutes‘I don’t know them…’
‘Raj. Look at me. I’m Tina, your wife.’
‘Yeah, Dad. This is Mom and I’m Monty, your son.’
‘Raj, are you sure you don’t recognize your wife and son? No recollection?’
‘Uhhh, I have no idea, doctor. I’ve never seen them before.’
Reading Time: 2 minutes
That first look, that first touch, that first joyous encounter.
You can’t believe that you’ve created something so unique and beautiful. As you cradle it in your arms, wishing to share your joy with others, your mind races towards the future.
No more sleepless nights…
No more caffeine laden cups of coffee…
No more second guessing…
No more tears of agony…
Wait a minute… Why are you holding a pack of diapers? Keep on Reading!
Reading Time: 4 minutes
SuperWriter is here to save you readers from some dark, dismal, and inappropriate writing.
I know you’ve been suffering, and your cries for help have gone unanswered.
The kingdom of readers has been under attack since the ‘dawn of writing’ cast its first light. What started out as an initiative to entertain, inform, and educate gradually turned into a bombardment of thoughts, facts, insecurities, and presumptions. Keep on Reading!
Reading Time: 4 minutes
Hey, why so glum? Oh, is it because you’re a Writer bum? Well, maybe you should stop beating that Writer Drum, and just drown yourself in a bottle of rum.
What!! Who you calling scum? I’m as dumb as you are for lounging in the Writer’s Slum.
Writers really are a funny lot…Whether it’s you, me, or Ben Apricot.
Never heard of him? Neither have I…And that’s how we all will probably die.
Unknown, Unrecognized, with dreams in our hearts, and faded stars in our eyes.
Reading Time: 3 minutes
Yeah you read it right…Procrastinate!!
Go ahead, do it!! Procrastinate in the morning, in the evening, at your office, in the backyard, procrastinate wherever the hell you want to!
Don’t look at me like I’m crazy! What did you expect?!
People love to procrastinate, they do it all the time. And writers especially. You know what amazes me…since writers are so good at procrastinating, and have probably discovered every possible procrastination technique in this world, then why hasn’t any one of them written a book about it?
They have?? Ohhhh…