Fiction by bobbybluebabaloo

  • -3
She sticks the square, brown, mushy candy into her mouth, intending to savor it.  It's gooey immediately.  The candy lodges onto the roof of her mouth and is stuck.  Like almost dry cement, the molten sugar resists all pressures applied by her tongue.  She gives up and lets it melt.  Her eyes close and she clears all thoughts away.  Her mind becomes a crystal, perfect in everyway--well, almost, if you looked closely you'd see a few defects. Is thinking about nothing the same as thinking nothing?  She can’t decide and the crystal shatters.  She stands on her head.  As the blood leaves her legs, she feels warmer in her face and smiles.  The doorbell rings.  She falls.  Shaking it off, she swaggers to the door and peeks the peephole.  The man opposite the door has the bag of mousetraps.  She knew it would come to this. by bobbybluebabaloo | (0) comment
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bobbybluebabaloo joined fictionthis on Monday 30th of June 2008. This talented author is an active member of the site, has submitted 6 fiction(s) thus far and voted for 121. Show some love and leave your comments and feedback below their fictions.

Historical Fictions

  • -2

In a trying time, it takes a trying try to change things.

Steady and shaky, scared yet brave, the march took over and the lone parader rhythmed her way to the end.  Musts were all she had ever known, and this day was a must fest.  The tatoo on her forearm had been changing color all morning; the wings marking her first flight flapped violently.  Her heart was beating with an equal fervence. 

The stopper popped off, and the bottle tilted to her mouth.  The juice inside was bitter.  It would be her last boost.  She knelt and waited for the change, her last change, her last flight, her last day.  She would go out with a bang.

by bobbybluebabaloo | (0) comment
  • 1
Dim, fluttering flood lights on their last mile blinked off and on, off and on, off and on. The moths and other bugs he couldn't name had already started to dissipate. Seems their patience was just as bad as his. He'd have left long ago if he could have, long before the lights started crapping, zapping out, certainly long before he became thirsty. He was past thirst now, past hope too, and soon he would be past away. He thought it funny, that he'd have to face the dark before having to face the dark. He wondered if he’d be able to tell the difference. by bobbybluebabaloo | (2) comment
  • -4
The real magic of the trick was her herself.  She was performing for a room of scientists, all of whom could see through the deception if they wanted to, so all she needed to do was make it so they didn’t.  And how do you make a bunch of know-it-alls want to ignore the obvious truth of the lie?  Easy, she knew, make them fall in love with you.  Come out from behind the curtains wearing a cute little pink dress that couldn’t have cost more than five dollars.  The ballerina skirt was sleeveless and torn, which would normally make you feel bad for her, but her opening comedy bit made each tear seem planned and appropriate.  After jokes came juggling, which was funny too, cause she ate one of the apples while the two oranges and the kiwi danced in flight.  By the time the cut went through Daphne and the newly separated box pairs were spread apart, nobody wanted to figure out how she did it.  Suckers, all of them, and she knew it. by bobbybluebabaloo | (0) comment
  • -3
Billowing Bandily has a big bellowed boxcar bright with blue fire.  Billowing billowed.  He was fat today, fatter than any man could be and still stand by his own volition.  He isn't always that way.  He’s fat sometimes, and sometimes not.  He's fat when he needs to be.  Billowing is a runner.  He can run nonstop until he's thin again, taking no sleep, drink, or food.  He pushes the boxcar from behind, pushes it to an incredible speed.  And when the boxcar gets fast enough, he drives it. by bobbybluebabaloo | (0) comment
  • 10
Charlie, chapped lips and loose teeth, got out of bed. He had big plans for the future, big plans indeed. Staring at his reflection, he couldn't help but smile. This ragged fellow before him, torn clothes, sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks would be gone soon. His replacement was already alive, living cautiously inside Charlie's active imagination, not quite ready to realize himself, but excited nonetheless. He turned from the mirror to look at the room. The matress, the blanket, the pile of clothes were his only luxuries. He would miss them. He took one last deep breath, tried to pull the whole room through his nostrils, careful to store every stail particle somewhere in his memory, to remind him later what he had been. What he still was until he left. He pulled his shirt over his head, pulled down his pants, chucked off his underwear and looked up again at the mirror. Naked, new, and never again. He opened the door and walked out of his life. by bobbybluebabaloo | (12) comment