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Squeeze The Clouds

10 Friday Mar 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

dream, drought, hope, prayer, rain, weather

My family has been living on the land for over five

generations.

Since 1860 we have produced the finest woo in the

state.

The fleece has won more blue ribbons than you can poke

a stick at.

But now the sheep are dying out in the paddocks.

It hasn’t rained in over a year.

The clouds refuse to shed even a single tear.

My name is Rodney Swain and i am ten years old.

And i know that my family is hurting.

I would do anything to make them happy.

I wish that i could climb a giant ladder and reach up into

the heavens.

I would squeeze the clouds until they cry.

Cant they see that the grass is brown and dying?

So why aren’t the clouds crying?

Every night after the evening meal.

We would all sit out on the back porch hoping to see

lightning and the sound of thunder.

But as usual the sky is full of stars there isn’t a cloud in

sight.

How can mummy and daddy continue the fight?

I work beside daddy everyday before and after school

Trying to keep the farm afloat

But how can you feed your livestock when the grass id dead

And the top soil has blown away?

Sometimes i see daddy wiping the tears from his eyes as he hand

feeds the animals

As i watch him a say a little prayer. ‘Please God make it rain so daddy

can get some rest’

‘We really need some rain to  to fill the rivers and dams’

That should put on smile on the faces of all the ewes and the randy

rams’

But still it doesn’t rain.

Maybe if i place on top of each other and climb that that giant ladder

I can reach high enough to squeeze the clouds.

And hopefully they will co operate and release some steady rain.

Don’t they realise you can only take so much heartache and pain?

In wake up in the morning in sheets wet with my sweat

6 am and already the heat is stifling.

Why does summer have to be so hot?

Cant there be a season where it doesn’t get above 28 degrees

and it rains every second day?

Why does my family and all the other families have to always live

in drought?

All we need is a little precipitation.

To saturate the whole god damn nation.

The situation is getting drastic.

We reply on the rain for our very existence.

It hasn’t rained in three long years.

Today the temperature is forecast to reach 43 degrees

And the following will be more of the same.

The girl on the weather channel predicts the weather with a smile

She says there wont be any rain for quite a while.

How can she smile when families on the land are hurting?

Doesn’t she know that farmers are killing themselves?

Because the clouds refuse to yield

Bills still need to be paid and everyone has to eat.

There is never enough money to go around.

All because of a lack of water.

Why doesn’t it rain so win can win the fight and stop the slaughter?

Maybe if i stack the three on top of five barns.

I will be able to climb the giant ladder and squeeze the clouds.

Until they start to weep.

Than we can all rest easy and finally get some sleep.

Another three months has gone by.

And still the clouds refuse to budge.

They turn black and threaten a down pour.

But it is all just sound and bluster.

Soon all of the clouds disappear over the horizon.

And once again it is clear skies sunshine and heat.

My family and the community are all strong.

But this time i think they are beat.

Maybe if i stack the three tractors on top of the five barns

along with seven houses.

I can climb the giant ladder and reach up and squeeze the clouds.

And they will open up and supply us all with days of steady rain.

So it can soak into the earth and turn the grass green

Fill all of the rivers creeks dams and water tanks.

I would look up into the clouds and scream THANKS

Another six months has passed.

And there hasn’t been a single drop.

So once again i start to think.

What if i stacked the three tractors on top of the five barns.

Along with the seven farm houses.

Than if i added nine skyscrapers  i could climb that giant ladder

And squeeze the clouds and those fuckers will relent to my touch.

Cause when you think about i am not really asking for much.

Sorry for saying the swear word out loud.

Please don’t tell mummy or daddy because i would get a belting.

I promise not to do it again,now where was i ?

‘Rodney’

I am startled to hear my mummy’s voice.

And also to find myself standing on the roof of our house.

Jumping up and down doing a rain dance.

‘Get down from there right this minute,or you will get a belting

you wont forget in a hurry’

I don’t know what i am doing,but i start to chant and pray.

I close my eyes and imagine those three tractors stacked on top of

the five barns.

Along with the seven farm houses with the nine skyscrapers.

I see myself climbing that giant ladder and reaching up to

squeeze the clouds.

And do you know what?

I can feel my fingers getting wet.

So i squeeze a little harder and the clouds finally release.

And send down the much needed rain.

Finally my family and all of the other farmers can look to the future

With a fresh attitude and a soggy smile.

Because i think the rain is going to be here for quite a while.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can reach my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END.

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Nasty Piece Of Work

18 Saturday Feb 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

bully, jerk, knife, nasty, vulnerable

I live the lifestyle of the rich and famous.

Even though i have no money of my own.

I am 37 years old now and i haven’t worked a day

in my life.

I eat the rich and lay around all day.

Why should i work when other people can pay my way?

I was born under a full moon on Friday the 13th 1981.

My parents have told me that i was born bad.

And that i have been an arsehole ever since.

But i don’t care what other people think.

I just do what i please.

I just chop and chop until i bring them to their knees.

My devious ways got worse when i started school.

When i had a hundred other kids to pick clean.

They never knew what was happening.

I used every trick in the book to line my pockets.

I cheated at marbles and used stand over tactics.

And soon my pockets were overflowing with their lunch money.

And sometimes i even ate their lunch as well.

School can be good but i made it a living hell.

At high school i didn’t worry about playing games to get money.

I just used my fists and size to get what i wanted.

But fighting is hard work i used to work up a sweat.

Why couldn’t my family have money and live in the right

neighbourhood.

But y’know i kind of like being bad.

Fuck being good.

I have become a despised little jerk.

A real nasty piece of work.

After i finished school i was at a bit of a loose end.

I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I could get a job and make an honest living.

Or i could lay around smoking some weed.

Thinking of ways to spend other peoples money.

Why should i have to go to work and get my hands dirty.

My goal is to stay unemployed and retire when i am thirty.

At sixteen my hormones are raging

So i started to check out the local girls.

And they were giving me the loving eye.

But i knew that i had to aim higher if i was to reach my

objective.

Which is to make a lot of money without a lot of effort.

So i caught a bus (without paying) all the way to Caulfield

Heights.

Where all the rich people live.

I am all about taking i never fucking give.

They say love conquers all

But all i want is sex and some easy cash.

I just hope that i don’t end up with and empty wallet and a nasty

little rash.

At the local mall i take a seat in a coffee shop and wait for my prey.

And soon enough a girl walks in dressed up like a movie star.

She will do nicely.

She takes a seat across from me all ripe for the picking.

I give her my lovey dovey eyes a she smiles back .

She has taken the bait hook line and sinker.

And pretty soon we are sitting close together.

I move in for the kill hell bent for leather.

She tells me that her name is Cindy and that her family owns

half of the town.

And she offers to buy me a cup of coffee.

Well Cindy will pay for the coffee and a whole lot more.

I am going to reach into for soul and pull on her heart strings.

And i will not stop until the fat lady starts to sing.

I lean in close and tell Cindy a sob story.

About how i was kicked out of home and how i am struggling

to land on my feet.

Cindy sits there with her mouth open swallowing every word.

I cant believe this girl is so gullible

She offers to buy me lunch and provide a shoulder to lean on.

How can i refuse such an offer?

I eat and eat until i am ready to burst.

Just like a vampire with insatiable thirst.

I really am a jerk

A nasty piece of work.

Only sixteen and already i am on the road to ruin.

I don’t even try to be good.

Words tumble from Cindy’s mouth but i barely listen.

I am only interested in myself.

I just want to fill my pockets with ill gotten gains.

Who gives a shit for other peoples thoughts or pain?

Cindy is a sweet girl.

She deserves someone better than me.

I have’t listened to a word she has said.

All i want is to get my hands on her money

I will beg borrow or steal and bleed her dry.

I will leave nothing behind but an empty shell

Hello Cindy welcome to my hell.

Cindy stands up and says she has to visit the bathroom.

So why don’t i pay the bill whilst she is away.

She hands me her credit card and i go to the counter to pay.

But than i have second thoughts.

I walk out of the door and keep on walking.

As i walk down the street i reach into my pocket and pull out

a razor sharp switchblade knife.

Cindy will never know how close she came to dying today.

This time i gave her a break.

But the next time i want be so fucking nice.

Someone in my travels is going to pay a very heavy price.

So keep an eye out.

Because i could be headed your way.

If you see me coming.

Run as fast as you can

I really am a jerk.

A nasty piece of work.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can finally reach my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE  END.

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Lowest At My Highest

04 Saturday Feb 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

addiction, despair, drugs, family, help

I pick at a scab on my face until it bleeds

And my skin is a nasty shade of yellow

Most of my teeth have fallen out

The drugs are starting to take a heavy toll

 

I am constantly scratching.

And my clothes reek of urine and desperation

I would do anything for a shower.

And to fall asleep in a nice warm bed.

I cant remember the last time that i ate a home cooked meal.

But first i have to score.

 

But my pockets contain nothing but a few coins and a shitload

of lint.

All i can do is walk the streets and wait for an opportunity.

And i don’t have to wait long.

 

Just up ahead a lady is enjoying a coffee at an outdoor cafe.

I am about to ruin her day big time.

She has made a huge mistake.

She has left her handbag sitting on the chair beside her.

Just waiting to be snatched.

 

She sees me approaching.

And i act like an normal person just going about my day.

And the lady doesn’t see the threat and looks away.

Just then i run forward grab that bag and take off.

I am gone before she can even cry out.

 

I go to my spot beneath a bridge to count the takings.

A total of five hundred and twenty dollars.

Enough to keep me going for a while.

 

My local supplier is waiting for me with everything that i need.

A little something to keep the wolves at bay.

Another trip to my so called paradise.

As the drugs take over my body.

I feel myself flying as high as a kite.

But at the same time i am feeling mighty low.

I always feel the lowest at my highest.

Ashamed of all the crimes that i have committed just to feed my

addiction.

I hang my head in shame.

But i know that i will have to score again tomorrow.

 

My name is Owen and i am now 24 years old.

And i have been using drugs since i was thirteen.

My parents were constantly fighting hurling abuse at each other.

So i escaped to the local park

Where i smoked dope to calm my nerves.

And i drank beer to drown my sorrows.

 

Well dope and beer are still my companions.

But now ice is my drug of choice.

It takes me to another dimension another space in time.

When i take i live on the very edge of existence.

Like sliding down the edge of a knife.

That is my life.

That is Ice.

 

I know that because of my appearance that i stick out like a sore

thumb.

But at the same time i can be invisible.

People look at me with a mixture sadness and loathing.

To them i am just another harmless bum.

But i will strike like a cobra when i need to feed my gremlins.

 

And right now my gremlins are hungry.

Every minute of every day all i think about is buying drugs.

My muscles twitch and my pores release the night sweats.

I cant sleep at night because of the constant cravings.

Only the drugs can bring me some sort of relief.

 

The money that i stole is almost gone.

So i decide to visit my grand mother for a meal.

And maybe a loan that i will never re pay

Gran knows that i have a drug problem.

And she has tried to get me help again and again.

But i always tell her the same old bullshit ‘Don’t worry gran

i can stop anytime that i want’

I have told her that lie so many times.

That sometimes i even start to believe it.

 

When gran answers the door.

I cant help but notice the look that she gives me.

A mixture of love pity and hate.

But i don’t blame her at all i have let her down so many times

over the years.

 

We chat away about family and stuff.

But the conversation always turns to my addictions.

As gran talks i block her out.

I know that she means well.

But i don’t need a lecture right now.

All i need is some money to buy my drugs.

I have stolen from gran in the past.

And i will do it again today.

 

When gran visits the bathroom.

I sneak into her bedroom and rummage around looking for jewellery

and money.

When i find what i need i call out goodbye to gran and walk out the

door.

 

After visiting my supplier.

I go to my favourite spot under the bridge.

To satisfy my needs and wants.

As i fly above the clouds i cant help but to think about gran.

She deserves a better grand son than me.

All she wants to do is help but i keep pushing her away.

Again i am feeling the lowest at my highest.

This fucking Ice has really got a grip on me.

And it isn’t letting go anytime soon.

 

A few days later gran’s money is almost gone.

So i head off towards my last resort.

Back to the park that i first visited when i was thirteen.

In the back corner is the public toilets.

Where i give blow jobs for $50 a go.

God i am not even high but i am feeling mighty low.

 

I now have enough money to last me about a week.

I even buy some food and some clean clothes from the salvation

army.

Where i start talking to the girl behind the counter.

Her name is Melissa and she offers to help me in any way that she

can.

 

I thank her for the offer ‘But i don’t need any help’

‘I am just going through a bad patch’

 

Once again i lie to myself and to people who want to help.

 

About a week later i leave my spot under the bridge.

On my endless quest to find money and drugs.

I am thinking about my situation so i don’t hear a group of thugs

coming up behind me.

I remember getting king hit and laying on the ground being

repeatedly kicked and stomped on.

Thankfully i don’t remember anything after that.

 

I wake up in a hospital a few days later.

With a fractured skull  and eye socket.

A few broken ribs and i am bruised from head to toe.

 

I don’t get any visitors.

Everybody gave up on me years ago.

And as i lie in that bed my addiction is crying out for attention.

I need to get out of here and fast.

As i am looking around for my clothes and a way to escape.

A girl enters my room wearing my room wearing a salvation army

uniform.

 

It is Melissa the girl from op shop who is going from room to room

visiting the sick and the lonely.

She recognises me and tells me that her offer still stands

If i want help all i have to do is ask.

I tell her ‘Thanks but no thanks i will be fine’

 

All i can think about is Ice.

And how to get my hands on some.

I know that i need help but i need the drugs more.

I must have been hallucinating.

And to this day i don’t know why i said it.

But i looked at Melissa as she was walking out the door.

And i silently screamed one word HELP.

 

I spent the next six months in rehab.

Getting rid of my demons and addictions.

It wasn’t easy.

I almost walked out the door a thousand times

But i thought about my family and friends that i have let

down badly over the years.

Especially my gran who i love dearly.

 

I walked out of rehab clean and sober.

Ready to start my life all over again.

I will need to find myself a job and somewhere to stay.

But firstly i need to visit my gran and apologise and being such

a bad grand son.

 

But i have to make a small detour first.

I go to my favourite spot under the bridge.

And i start to dig.

About a foot down i uncover what i have buried there.

An old biscuit tin that contains my treasured items.

Amongst all my stuff is grans jewellery that i just couldn’t

bring myself to hock.

 

I hold that tin close to my chest and walk towards gran’s  house.

 

I knock on the front door.

Not knowing what to expect.

She opens the door and her eyes light up ‘Oh Owen i thought you

must of overdosed or something’.

I walk in and put the biscuit tin on the table.

And i tell gran to open it.

 

She is surprised  to see her jewellery inside “I thought i would

never see these again’

“They aren’t worth much but they mean the world to me’

 

I tell gran about my time in rehab.

And how i have been stealing from her for years.

She just smiles ” I know i have been waiting for you to clean yourself

up and be a good person again.”

‘Welcome back’

 

If you are having problems with drugs or alcohol.

GET HELP.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Water Cooler Conversations

21 Saturday Jan 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

birthday, paranoia, pistol, the office, water cooler.

Sharon Killburn is really pissed off.

Her ears are burning.

While her face is a deep beet red.

 

She looks over toward the water cooler.

And sure enough five of her workmates are standing around it.

As they talk they steal sly glances in Sharon’s direction.

Sharon knows that they are talking about her.

But what are they saying?

 

This has been going on for weeks.

Who do these bitch’es think they are?

Sharon cant stand it no more.

So she walks over to the water cooler.

Hi guys what are you talking about?

None of her workmates answer.

They wander off back to work.

 

At lunch Sharon once again tries to draw her workmates into

conversation.

But once again she is ignored.

She knows that they have been talking about her at the water cooler.

She doesn’t understand why she is being excluded.

Why are they being so standoffish?

It is really starting to mess with her mind.

 

After lunch Sharon goes to the bathroom to freshen up.

She enters the last cubicle and sits down.

She tries hard to hold back the tears

But soon they are rolling down her face.

Sharon knows that she shouldn’t let things get to her.

But she cant help it.

 

She takes a few moments to compose herself and dry her eyes.

Than with a sigh she goes back to work.

 

As she walks past the water cooler.

Once again her workmates are standing around it chatting away.

But when they spot Sharon all talking stops.

Sharon just keeps on walking acting nonchalant and carefree.

But inside her stomach is churning.

 

Don’t these people ever do any work?

All they do is stand around the water cooler gossiping behind peoples

back.

Sharon tries to get some work done but she cant concentrate.

If only she knew what they were talking about.

 

She through the rest of the day with a heavy heart.

Why are her workmates going out of their way to annoy her?

She doesn’t understand what is happening.

Her so called friends are giving her the cold shoulder.

Normally she would join in all the gossip.

So why is she now being shut out?

 

She has worked in this office for over five years.

And normally the water cooler conversations is what gets her

through the day.

A little conversation and a laugh what more could a girl ask for?

But now for some reason she being treated like an outsider.

And it is really starting to fuck with her mind.

 

At home Sharon tries to relax and forget all the crap at work.

But she cant believe the way she is being treated.

She has gone from being part of the in crowd.

To being completely ignored.

 

She pours herself a large whiskey and swallows it down in one

mouthful.

She pours herself another and starts to stew.

How dare those motherfuckers treat her like shit

As far as she knows she has done nothing wrong.

Sharon keeps on drinking as she wallows in her wounded pride.

 

The following days are all a blur for Sharon.

She has started to let herself go.

And truth be told she is starting to smell.

She no longer showers and has poor personal hygiene.

That should give her workmates something to talk about.

 

The whiskey bottle is almost empty.

But Sharon’s thoughts are full of hate.

She will make those arseholes pay big time.

As she swallows the last drop of the liquor she comes to a decision.

Tomorrow she will  have her revenge.

 

Before going to bed Sharon opens the bottom drawer of her dresser

and pulls out a pistol.

She puts it in her handbag and a small smile comes to her face.

Tomorrow cant come soon enough.

 

In the morning Sharon wakes up with one hell of a hangover.

Her tongue is furry and her head is pounding.

But after a strong cup of coffee and a handful of painkillers.

She grabs her car keys and heavy handbag  and heads off to work.

 

Arriving at the office Sharon is feeling very seedy.

And looking a little worse for wear.

She enters the staff room with her hand in her handbag stroking

the pistol.

but something is different the room is decorated with streamers and

balloons.

Is it someone’s birthday?

 

Than by the water cooler she sees her so called friends gathered around.

The cooler is covered in decorations and sitting on top is a big birthday

cake.

Than suddenly Sharon remembers that today is her 31st birthday.

 

Sharon doesn’t know what to say.

For once she is speechless

Her workmates all sing happy birthday and wish her all the best.

God how could she have been so stupid?

Her friends were giving her the silent treatment because they were planning

a surprise,

She feels like a complete fool.

 

Than she realises that she still has a hand in her bag.

With a finger on the trigger.

She slowly releases her finger and puts a smile on her face.

 

After blowing out the candles and cutting the cake.

Sharon and her workmates stand around the water cooler and talk and

talk “Thanks guys i never doubted you for a minute”

 

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i could reach my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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The Stain

14 Saturday Jan 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

bangor maine, disappearances, murder, stephen king, the stain

Martha Abercrombie has lived in Bangor Maine her whole life.

She recently lost her husband of forty years and is at a loose end.

She is lonely and she desperately needs something to occupy her

mind.

 

For over thirty years on her way to work she has driven past the house

of author Stephen King.

But it is another house that has caught her attention.

 

The house is a two storey monstrocity  that has clearly seen better days.

A faded old For Sale sign sits in the front yard.

It has been there for as long as Martha can remember.

 

One day Martha stops at the rusty old sign and saves the Real Estate

phone number into her mobile phone.

It is a pity that Martha doesn’t drive another route to work.

Than she would never have seen the house.

Because there is a very good reason why the house has stood vacant

for over twenty years.

 

The house is situated at 16 Balcomb Lane is shrouded by overgrown

shrubs weeds and a nasty reputation.

Originally built in 1900 by a doctor and his young family.

Who travelled all the way from Scotland to start a new life.

 

Doctor McIntosh his wife Stella and their children six year old

Prudence and little Colin a chubby four year old.

The family were excited when they finally moved into their new house

on 1st March 1900.

 

But one thing bothered Stella right from the start.

An ugly stain on the living room wall

Despite all of her scrubbing that stain just wouldn’t go away.

So finally Stella gave up and hung a family portrait over the stain and

forgot all about it.

 

Stella should have left the stain alone.

It has laid dormant for over one hundred years.

Now it has been awoken.

And it isn’t happy.

 

A month after the family moved into the house little Prudence was

spotted arriving home from school.

And since that day not one member of the McIntosh has ever been seen

again.

It is like they just disappeared into thin air.

 

The house stood empty until 1919 when another family moved in.

And than promptly vanished.

A radio was playing songs of the day.

The table was set with plates piled high with food.

Food that was never eaten.

Another family has disappeared without trace.

 

From 1932 to 1970 a total of eight families have lived in that

house.

38 people have vanished into the dust.

 

The neighbours cross the street when they come to the house.

Their is talk of a local Native American tribe laying a curse.

Their are whispers of witchcraft and of sausquatch  coming down

from the mountains.

 

In 1971 the house was demolished and every single piece of that house

was taken away and burnt.

The land stood vacant until 1986 when a new house was built.

The house was blessed by the local priest.

And a lovely young couple moved in.

 

But all of the activity has once again awoken the stain.

 

The same day as the family moved in the brand new house started to

fall apart.

The brickwork and shingles crumbled and fell to the ground

The wiring exploded in a shower of sparks.

While the plumbing leaked dirty water and sewage through out the

house.

 

The new house is transforming back into the old house.

And for the first time there is talk amongst the neighbours about

a strange stain.

 

The lady of the house a Mrs Penelope Lomax told them of a stain on the

living room wall.

It was the size and shape of a human face and the colour of blood.

And despite constant scrubbing and cleaning the stain just wouldn’t go away.

 

A month later Mrs Lomax was seen at her kitchen window.

But after that Penelope and her husband were never seen again.

 

Once more Martha Abercrombie is driving past the house at 16 Balcomb

Lane.

When she comes to a fateful decision.

After work she stops at the real estate office and makes an enquiry about the

house.

The agent is shocked by the question.

No one has asked about that house in over twenty years.

 

But she puts a smile on her face and offers to show Martha the house anytime

that suits.

They arrange to meet at the house at four o’clock the following afternoon.

 

So they meet the next day and Cathy Simpkins the agent walks with Martha

towards the front door.

But it is obvious that she is scared out of her mind.

Martha asks what is wrong and Cathy comes clean and tells Martha all about

the disappearances  that has occurred since 1900.

 

In the back of her mind Martha remembers reading about the missing people.

But this all happened years ago and this house is a renovators dream.

She decides that she has to have this house.

 

The estate agent refuses to go inside.

She opens the front door and tells Martha to take her time.

Martha walks in and feels a chill down her spine.

She goes from room to room and she like what she sees.

All of the rooms are spacious with high ceilings.

But it is obvious that the house needs a lot of work.

But she has to have it and signs the contract on the spot.

 

As Martha is signing the contract back at the cars a stain appears on

the living room wall.

It is barely visible but it is there.

 

For the next six months contractors come and go renovating the house

from top to bottom.

The wiring and plumbing is completely replaced

The house is gutted from roof to the basement fully renovated from top

to bottom.

 

Behind the living room wall the stain is shimmering in a rage.

Once again it has been disturbed.

 

Martha has finally moved into her new house and is enjoying a glass

of wine.

She cant believe how happy she is and how cheap the house was.

Life is perfect.

 

A week after moving in Martha is sitting on her couch reading the latest

Stephen King novel.

When her eyes are drawn to the living room wall.

A blood red stain is seeping through the paint.

 

Martha gets out of her chair for a closer look.

The stain looks like a human face.

Martha shakes her head ‘God my imagination sure is working overtime’.

She goes to the liquor cabinet and pours herself a large whiskey.

Than she walks back towards the stain.

 

It is definently a face.

The eyes of the stain seem to be looking back at her.

Martha’s spine tingles and her bladder starts to leak.

Despite herself she has another look at the stain.

The face is developing you can now make out all of the features.

It appears to be the face of a middle aged woman.

 

Martha pours herself another whiskey as she decides what to do.

But there really is only one decision to make.

So Martha grabs her car keys and runs toward the front door.

 

But a voice stops her in her tracks ‘Come and join me Martha and we can

be together forever’

Martha is shell shocked and her bladder empties completely.

She tries to run but her legs wont move.

Instead they turn back towards the stain.

 

Foot by foot her legs walk towards the stain until she is only five feet away.

Her legs move even closer.

Until she is standing face to face with the stain.

She waits for it to speak again.

 

But this time it doesn’t speak.

It attacks.

Two arms are thrust through the wall and enclose Martha in a bear hug.

She tries to resist but it is of no use.

Martha feels herself being pulled into the stain.

 

She struggles with all of her might.

But she cant fight off the stain.

She is dragged down to the basement and beyond.

Down to an old cemetery full of old tombstones.

Next to one of the graves is a freshly dug hole with a new tombstone.

Martha Abercrombie

Born 18 October 1944

Died 13 January 2017

RIP

The stain has fully engulfed Martha and is walking Martha backwards

until she is teetering on the edge.

Martha can smell and taste her own fear.

 

The stain whispers ‘Goodbye Martha welcome to death’

Martha fulls six feet down and lands on her back.

She is quickly covered in dirt until Martha is no more.

The sound of silence is deafening.

 

The house at 16 Balcomb Lane is up for sale again.

If you have the deposit the house can be yours.

It has been freshly painted inside and out.

The perfect place for a loving family

Or first home buyer.

 

All ready to move in.

Without a blemish or stain in sight.

 

But looks can be deceiving

 

THE END.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you could please make a donation so i can reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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The Cranky Christmas Tinsel

24 Saturday Dec 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

cat, chimney, christmas, revenge, santa, tinsel

Up in the corner of the living room hangs a cranky piece of tinsel.

It is a week before Christmas 2016 the piece of tinsel has been hanging

there all lonesome for almost a year.

 

He doesn’t understand why he has been left hanging there in solitude.

When all the other decorations and ornaments were packed away all nice

and snug.

Yet here he hangs covered in cobwebs and a shitload of dust.

 

There is movement below him.

And he is pleased to see the owner of the house putting up the Christmas

tree.

And start to decorate it in all sorts of baubels silver balls and stars and a

thousand xmas lights.

With an angel placed on top.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel is surprised when a step ladder is positioned

below him.

And the owner of the house removes a push pin and carries him towards the

tree.

Where he is draped over a branch or two right in front and centre.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel would be smiling right now if he could.

He cant believe his luck

Now he is in the perfect spot to have some fun and a little bit of mischief.

 

The family cat wanders in and starts sniffing around the base of the tree.

The cranky Christmas decoration watches the cat and wills it to climb.

But the cat couldn’t be bothered with climbing it arches  its back and jumps

right on up.

 

The Christmas tree starts to sway as the cat wrestles among the branches

in a tangle of Christmas lights.

The cranky Christmas unwraps itself reaches down and flips the light

switch.

 

The cat screams like a banshee on heat and runs from the room destroying

everything in its path blowing smoke signals from its arse.

Now i am not a Native American so the smoke signals are hard to read

But i think it says something like ‘Holy  fucking shit’

 

Smokey the Cats fur now stands permanently on end and it will forever

have a surprised look on his face.

 

Smokey was last seen hitch hiking out town.

But i am sure that he will be back one day.

 

 

The cranky Christmas is hanging in the tree feeling mighty fine.

He looks to the kitchen table where the owner of the house is enjoying

a glass of eggnog.

She is the reason why he is so cranky.

How dare she leave him hanging all year like a forgotten sock.

And the last thing you want in your house is a cranky Christmas tinsel.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel senses movement from the corner of his eye.

And when he looks there is a black spider building a web in his fibres.

He used to be clean tucked away all tidy in a box.

But now he is green mean and mighty unclean.

 

He eyes that spider and an idea forms in his mind.

He contorts his body into the shape pf a slingshot and fires.

The spider tumbles through the air straight towards the kitchen table.

And lands with a plop right into that cup of eggnog.

 

The owner of the house is startled and when she looks down she is

surprised to see a spider doing the backstroke .

She loses control of her eggnog and it splashes between her ample cleavage.

Along with the spider.

 

I think her scream was heard from more than five miles away.

She ran around the house tearing off her clothes in a wild panic.

And naked she races into the backyard and dives into the pool.

 

The spider swims to the side and climbs out feeling rather pleased with

himself.

Than he walks back to the Christmas tree and his web on the cranky

Christmas tree.

 

After almost drowning the owner of the house retires to her room with

her two trusted companions.

A bottle of bourbon and a pack of cigarettes.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel is as happy as Larry as he basks under the

Christmas lights.

He loves hanging front and centre surrounded by inferior decorations.

Than he is distracted by a noise coming from the fireplace.

And in a cloud of soot a big red arse emerges.

 

It is that old man with the white beard all the way from the North Pole.

He is carrying some weight and a great big sack.

First stop is the side table where he fills up on milk and cookies.

Than he goes to the Christmas tree takes the presents from his sack

and arranges them under the tree.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel is watching Santa’s every move.

And when Santa bends over he cant help to notice that Santa’s pants

are riding low.

He is showing more crack than a freeway after an earthquake.

The cranky Christmas decides to have some fun.

He dangles down from the tree and tickles Santa’s crack.

 

Well Santa jumped higher than an Olympic pole vaulter .

And after he scraped himself from the ceiling he squeezed back up the

Chimney

And got the fuck out of there.

 

The next few days run smoothly.

The owner of the house has some family and friends over to help

celebrate the festive season.

She relaxes and enjoys life for a few days.

Than it is time to go back to work.

 

Two weeks later the owner of the house decides that it is time to pull

down the tree.

She fills box after box with all of her decorations and lights.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel is still hanging on the tree when the owner

of the house returns with another empty box.

She the cranky Christmas tinsel and bends down to place him into the

box.

But she is clumsy and drops the cranky Christmas tinsel and somehow

kicks it under the lounge.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel cant fucking believe it.

He wanted to be packed away in hibernation for a year.

But instead here he is under the couch with dead cockroaches stray coins

and an assortment of crumbs.

 

But he isn’t too worried he is confident that the owner of the house will

notice and pack him away all safe and sound.

Than he feels a tug from behind.

He looks back and sees a pair of green eyes.

 

Smokey the cat is back from his road trip.

And he wants the cranky Christmas tinsel to pay.

He chews the cranky Christmas tinsel like he is a tasty chicken bone.

And he keeps on chewing until the cranky Christmas tinsel is no more.

 

A few days later smokey the cat walked up to the owner of the house.

And when she bent down to give him a pat he coughed and spluttered

and out came a nasty looking cranky Christmas tinsel fur ball.

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you could make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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The Affliction

17 Saturday Dec 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

afflicted, affliction, birthmark, cannibalism, cholera, disease

The first documented case of the affliction occurred on 1st March

2017.

When a baby girl named Elizabeth was born at the Royal Prince Albert

hospital Sydney at 2 pm.

 

She appeared to be normal in every way weighing a normal four pounds.

But there was one thing that was unusual about baby Elizabeth.

A strange birthday looking birthmark located in the middle of her

birthmark.

It is the size of a dollar coin and the colour of port wine.

 

The doctors weren’t that concerned.

And Elizabeth was handed to her loving mother.

 

 

Than word came through that a baby born in New York City had the

same strange mark on his forehead.

By the minute every hospital the world over started to report the birth

of babies born with a port wine birthmark in the middle of their

foreheads.

 

The authorities are all baffled by this weird happening?

How can every baby born be tainted by the same affliction?

Does it signal the second coming of Christ?

Has an alien impregnated all of the mothers?

Or is it just a strange anomaly?

 

After a weeks stay in the hospital baby Elizabeth is finally taken home.

Besides the ugly birthmark she appears to be a normal healthy baby

girl.

 

But soon after arriving home Elizabeth becomes silent and morose.

Her mother Jane is worried that her baby might have a fever or something

more serious.

But Elizabeth drinks her milk with gusto and has plenty of wind.

Maybe she is just teething?

Jane sits up every night feeding her baby and changing diapers.

She is a loving mother and she tries hard to bond with her baby.

But in the three months since her birth Elizabeth hasn’t smiled once.

Her face has remained expressionless.

 

As she feeds her daughter she strokes her hair but there is no response

from her baby.

But there is a response and it comes from the affliction.

It is now big red and shiny and the size of a snooker ball.

 

Jane’s eyes are drawn to the affliction.

And even though it sounds crazy.

She is certain that the affliction is observing her.

She tries not to look but she cant resist a little peek.

And when she looks at the affliction she is powerless to look away.

The affliction delves deep into Jane’s mind and removes all of her

brain activity.

 

Jane is still alive but she is no longer a functioning human bean.

She is now nothing more than a milk delivery system.

A slave to her baby and the affliction.

 

A small smile forms on the lips of baby Elizabeth as she suckles on

her brain dead mother’s nipple.

After all she is a growing girl and needs her nourishment.

She cant wait to go onto solids.

 

All over the globe people begin to wander the streets like a pack

of zombies.

They just walk around with nowhere to go.

They lose all control of their bodily functions and soon the streets are

slippery with human faeces.

 

It doesn’t take long for disease and pestilence to take hold.

Cholera and diptheria  are rampant.

And soon pockets of civilisation begin to disappear.

 

Elizabeth is growing rapidly as she continues to drink her milk.

Jane is compliant she is now just a living shell.

She just stares at the affliction as her daughter feeds.

 

But the milk supply will soon run out because Jane is no longer eating.

Elizabeth has been expecting this eventuality.

It is now time to switch to solids.

Elizabeth smiles and bites down hard.

 

Jane doesn’t feel any pain as her daughter bites off her nipple.

Than proceeds to devour the whole breast.

Jane looks down at her daughter as she is being eaten alive.

She watches as her blood runs down her stomach and starts to pool

on the floor.

Elizabeth takes another bite and her mothers blood runs down her

chin.

Jane wipes her daughters face and than she dies.

 

All over the world mothers fathers and siblings of the afflicted babies

are all being eaten alive.

Anybody that has looked into the affliction is now nothing more than food.

If this keeps up whole populations will be totally wiped out.

 

Baby Elizabeth continues to feed as her mothers body decays.

When the body has been reduced to nothing but skin and bone.

Elizabeth crawls out of the house and onto the street.

She approaches a storm water drain and crawls right in.

She crawls way down deep below the sewer.

And she waits.

 

 

 

Afflicted babies the world over have made their way into the sewers.

They can barely crawl after feasting on human flesh.

The affliction is very pleased with itself.

It has achieved its objective but it still wants more.

 

Part Two is coming soon so come back if you dare.

And before you go to bed tonight don’t forget to check the toilet water

Because one day the affliction will re-appear.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now could you please make a donation and help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven

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Pigs Can Fly

03 Saturday Dec 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

bush pig, human flesh, kakadu, modified food, revenge, shooting

In the dense scrub at Kakadu National Park Northern Territory

Australia.

A sounder of bush pigs are feeding on mushrooms roots in fact

anything that there snouts dig up they will eat.

They don’t sense any danger.

But it is right behind them.

 

Bush pigs are their own worst enemies.

An introduced species they cause havoc and destruction wherever

they go.

They dig up the soil destroying the landscape causing erosion.

They also wallow in the waterholes and billabongs.

Turning them into fouled up stinking piles of mud.

 

Shane Frazer is a professional pig shooter.

For over ten years he has been trying to rid the Territory of

the feral porkers.

But due to the recent weather their numbers are exploding.

 

Today Shane is hunting from a helicopter.

The pilot is flying just above the treeline trying to flush out

the feral pigs.

When they reach a clearing about twenty bush pigs scatter in all

directions.

Shane takes aim and squeezes the trigger.

 

The leader of the sounder is a huge boar named Brutus.

Lifts his head in defiance and roars at the sky.

While all around him his underlings fall dead in a whirl

of blood and dust.

Than Brutus finally runs to the cover of the trees.

 

From the safety of the undergrowth Brutus looks at the machine

hovering above.

His eyes lock onto the face of the shooter.

And the image is stored deep inside his brain.

Brutus will never forget that face and one day he shall have his

revenge.

 

The pilot tells Shane that they only have an hour of fuel left and

they should start heading back.

But Shane doesn’t want to give up.

He couldn’t get a shot at the huge pig  and he knows that if he can

kill that razorback it will put a huge dent in their breeding season.

But at the same time he has to be realistic because there is always

tomorrow.

And tomorrow cant come soon enough.

 

Brutus hears the machine retreating and all of his muscles relax.

He bends down and starts to forage for food.

But the roots and wild flowers don’t satisfy his hunger.

Brutus now has another taste the taste for blood.

So he cannibalises his fallen comrades and swallows down the meat.

He sniffs the air trying to smell the smell of the shooter.

 

But all he can smell is the tang of the machine.

And when that machine returns Brutus will be ready.

He sharpens his tusks on a nearby tree they are now perfect for digging

up food.

And disemboweling his enemies.

 

A few hours later and Brutus has calmed down and is ready for some

fun.

He needs to fornicate to satisfy he desires and continue his species.

So Brutus wanders off searching for a mate.

 

A few hours later he stumbles upon a barbed wire fence.

Brutus tries to push over the fence but all he gets is an electrical shock

for his efforts.

Brutus has noticed a shitload of food on the other side.

So he starts to dig

 

If only pigs could read.

Because a danger sign is attached to the fence

‘DANGER DO NOT ENTER

TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED’

 

Brutus digs way down below the fence line and crawls on in.

But he has entered a restricted area where the government is

conducting a top secret experiment.

It is genetically modifying food mainly vegetables like potatoes

carrots and corn.

 

Brutus cant believe his luck as he gorges himself on the tasty

treat.

He really pigs out.

He eats and eats until he is ready to burst.

Finally he cant eat anymore so he lies down to digest the food.

 

After awhile he starts to feel uncomfortable.

All of his joints are aching and his bones are expanding.

His body ripples as his muscles shift under his skin.

Every bristle on his body stiffen into razor sharp nails.

Than Brutus does something that a pig has never done before.

He stands upright on two legs instead of four.

 

Brutus doesn’t understand what is happening.

But he is now equipped with a body ready to rip and tear.

With revenge on his mind he walks straight through the fence

in a shower of sparks.

He doesn’t know where he is going.

All he can do is follow his snout to achieve his revenge.

 

Shane Frazer climbs aboard the helicopter ready for another working

day.

There is only one thing on his mind and that is to kill that rogue boar.

Shane has only one goal in his life.

And that is to rid Australia from feral and introduced species.

 

Brutus is in a rage as he walks toward a fight that he will not lose.

His tusks have grown tenfold and are as sharp as a rapier.

And his brain is now capable of performing intricate tasks.

This pig is now a smart battle ready killing machine.

 

His ears pick up a sound from a great distance.

And his eyes can now pick out and identify objects from more than

ten miles away.

Brutus recognises the killing machine and he strolls toward the sound

REVENGE.

 

He notices a rocky outcrop and a thought enters his modified brain.

If he can climb up there he can bring that machine down.

He climbs higher and higher until he reaches his position of choice.

He squats down ready for the right moment to strike.

 

Shane and the pilot are oblivious to the danger.

No one in their right mind would expect to see a pig 100 foot above

the ground.

Their eyes are locked on the ground looking for movement.

Brutus listens as the machine gets closer.

Than his eyes lock onto the face of the shooter.

His blood begins to boil as he stares at the pig killer.

Than the moment is here and he steals himself and launches.

 

Shane is concentrating so hard he fails to see the flying pig.

Than from the corner of his eye he senses movement.

He isn’t is concerned thinking it is only a large eagle or egret.

Than Shane utters his final words ‘What the fuck’

He cant believe what he is seeing a pig is flying toward the copter.

 

Brutus is flying through the air with wings that he never knew he possessed.

He flies straight into the machine and his tusks opens up the throat of the

shooter and pilot

Than he flies out the other side and glides down to the ground.

 

In the copter Shane and the pilot are desperately trying to hold their

throats together.

But the cuts run deep they are almost decapitated.

They both know that they dead men so they say their final goodbyes.

What a way to go killed by a flying piece of pork.

Who said pigs cant fly.

 

The helicopter is spinning out of control as it spirals towards the ground

Then it hits and explodes in a huge fireball.

 

Brutus watches as the machine explodes than he sits on his bacon butt

waiting for the flames to die down.

After an hour he walks over to the smouldering wreck and pulls the charred

bodies from their final resting place.

Than Brutus begins to eat the cooked human flesh.

He keeps on eating until there is nothing but two piles of bones in the dirt.

 

Brutus has now had a taste of human meat and he wants MORE.

 

Part Two is coming soon so keep an eye out

And stay away from the bacon.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now could you please make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Mr Sticky Tape Man

04 Friday Nov 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

bacteria, body invaders, isolation chamber, sticky tape

There are only two days to Christmas.

And as usual i have left my gift shopping to the last minute.

I race to the shopping centre buying everything by impulse.

After a few hours my credit has reached its limit.

Another year of Christmas has come to an end.

 

Arriving back at home i have a quick meal

Than it is time to start wrapping the gifts.

It takes a while but i finally locate a roll of sticky tape in

the bottom drawer.

I quickly wrap the presents and place them under the Christmas tree.

 

After i put the last present under the tree.

I notice that a tiny piece of sticky tape is stuck to my left thumb.

I don’t think too much about it.

I do some tidying up and run myself a bath.

 

As i wait for the water to fill.

I try to peel off that pesky piece of sticky tape.

But it want come off.

Try as i might that tape is stuck like super glue.

But i am sure that once i soak in the bath for a while it will

peel right off.

 

After soaking for five minutes i try once more to rid myself

from that tape.

It is only a tiny bit about 3 millimetres square so it is hard to get

on hold of.

I pull and pull but it is stuck fast.

I am still sure that it is nothing.

So if it is still there in the morning i will drive to the hospital

and have it removed.

 

When i wake up in the morning my left thumb is throbbing

That tiny piece of sticky tape has grown and it is now covering

the whole thumb.

Okay now it is time to have this tape removed.

 

As i drive towards the hospital that sticky is growing right before

my eyes.

It is now covering my left hand and heading up to my wrist.

 

After waiting for over an hour i am finally shown into the doctors

office.

And in that hour that sticky tape has now almost reached my elbow.

I show the doctor my arm explaining about the sticky tape that seems

to be growing up my arm.

He gives me a look suggesting that i am a complete idiot ‘Not a problem

once we soak the your arm in a alcohol solution the tape will peel

right away’

 

After soaking my arm for a few minutes the doctor returns to complete

the procedure.

He has one look my my arm and says ‘That’s strange the tape hasn’t been

affected by the solution at all’

“If anything it seems to be growing further’

 

The doctor is right the sticky tape is now past my elbow and heading

towards my shoulder.

The doctor cuts my shirt away to examine the tape more closely

Than i am wheeled away for scans and x rays.

 

Before i know what is happening i am taken into an isolation room.

My clothes are removed and replaced with a hospital gown.

The doctor enters the room wearing a hazmat suit.

‘I am sorry to tell you but the sticky tape isn’t only growing externally

But it is also growing internally’

‘The tape is now permanently part of your arm’

‘And the only way to stop the tape invading the rest of your body is to

amputate your arm’

 

I know that sooner or later the sticky tape will cover the whole of my

body.

But at the same time i don’t want to lose my arm.

I soon get a reprieve if you can call it that.

The sticky tape is growing so fast it is now past my shoulder.

And creeping up my neck.

 

I press the distress button to summon the nurse.

She runs in wearing one of those hazmat suits

I explain that i am worried about the sticky tape growing over

my neck and blocking my airways.

She reassures me that my breathing isn’t been affected.

The doctor enters the room and he notices that the sticky tape

is moving fast

It is now way too late to amputate my arm.

But i can see by the look on his face that he has some bad news.

 

He tells me that  the sample of the tape had been sent away for analysis

and the results are back ‘The people in the lab after running exhaustive

tests have come to the conclusion that the compounds in the tape don’t

match any known data bases.’

 

My head is spinning as i take in the doctors words.

Does that mean my body has been invaded by an alien being?

The doctor is still talking “The technicians also discovered a strange

bacteria growing on the sticky tape.And this bacteria is what is causing

the tape to grow”

 

The doctor is still yapping “People from the National Disease Control

Centre are on their way to examine you’

“So you will be kept in isolation to contain this bacteria so that it cant

spread and infect the human race”

 

Two orderlies enter the room

And with a nod from the doctor they handcuff both of my hands to the bed

Then without another word the doctor and the orderlies leave the room

Now i am sealed all alone in a isolation chamber with a bacteria from outer

space.

 

And i know one thing for sure.

And that is once the people from the NDCC arrive i will be a dead man.

They will perform all sorts of tests probes and experiments.

Then i will be given a lethal injection and taken to a secret location and

buried in an unmarked location.

 

I cant let this happen.

So i will have to come up with a escape plan.

But first i will have to find a a way to get out of these cuffs.

As i contemplate the dilemma i realise the sticky tape has now

completely covered my whole body.

 

I lift up the hospital gown to check and my worst fears are confirmed

Where my genitals once were there is now nothing but a sticky tape mound

But i have more pressing matters at hand i can worry about my genitals

later.

 

I wriggle my hands and the bacteria must have entered my head.

Because the sticky tape around my hands begins to unravel.

Giving me just enough room to slip the cuffs.

I am now free from the restraints but i am still locked in a sealed chamber.

But there is one thing that i have learnt.

Never under estimate the power of the sticky tape.

From my head down to my toes the tape starts to unravel.

Layer by layer it peels away taking my skin bones organs and DNA with it.

 

 

The sticky tape travels down corridors stairwells and bathroom stalls until it

finds a way out into the sunlight.

The sticky tape is carried on the wind and i feel myself floating through the air.

Than the tape starts to rotate and cell by cell bone by bone and organ by

organ i am slowly being reconstructed.

 

I find myself standing completely naked in what looks like a cave.

Man it is cold i could really need to find some clothes.

And than get the fuck out of here.

At least i am now free from that sticky tape

Hopefully it has gone back to where it came from.

 

I decide to explore the cave and hopefully find some sort of clothing.

After a few minutes trying to find a way out i see a shaft of light coming

from around the corner of the cave.

 

I race towards the light but i soon pull up short.

Because blocking the exit is a giant ball of sticky tape.

It is pulsating and glowing and i am being drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

 

I walk forward.

 

What will happen next?

To find out out the answer to that question you will have to come back and

read Part Two.

It is that simple.

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Cereal Killer ( Part Two )

29 Saturday Oct 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

constipation, decapitation, gross, shit

In part one i told you all about the cereal killers lurking in

your pantry and on the supermarket shelves.

So throw out the cereal in your pantry and leave them on the

shelf.

Because cereal really is a killer.

Part Two

Robert Summerhill is enjoying a rare day off work.

He is employed at the local sawmill but it is good to have some down time.

Robert amazingly still has all his fingers and thumbs attached.

But at the moment he isn’t thinking about work.

He is preparing his favourite breakfast.

A huge bowl of rice puffs.

Robert is 39 years old now and he has had a bowl of rice puffs every

morning since he was five.

He knows that rice puffs are really only for kids.

But he just cant help himself.

They taste so damn fine.

Like a little piece of heaven.

Robert is seated at the kitchen table enjoying his tasty treat.

But he is eating way too fast.

And one of those little rice puffs escapes his spoon and lands in

his beard.

And it burrows in deep.

After washing the dish’es Robert goes about his day.

He runs some errands and has lunch with some friends.

He returns home to mow the lawn before relaxing on the lounge.

After a few hours watching some TV he has something to eat.

Before brushing his teeth and going to bed.

Twenty minutes later there is some movement in his beard.

That little rice puff is on the march.

Slowly it makes its way up Roberts face before entering Roberts

left nostril.

But it doesn’t stop there.

It keeps on burrowing until it pierces Roberts Brain.

In the morning Robert wakes up with a splitting headache.

And a nasty nose bleed.

He takes two panadol and plugs his nostril with toilet paper.

Today is a work day so he sits down to have a bowl of rice puffs

But he isn’t feeling himself today and after a couple of spoonfuls

he pushes the bowl away.

And has a cup of coffee instead.

Driving to work Robert really isn’t feeling well.

His head is still throbbing and his nose is still bleeding.

Plus his right hand is starting to shake like it has a mind of its own.

But Robert isn’t that worried he probably just has some hay fever

or something.

Arriving at work Roberts workmates tell him that he looks like shit

and maybe he should go back home.

But Robert is the only employee with experience on the band saw.

So he decides to stay so all of the orders are filled.

Robert takes a few more panadol and walks over to the band saw and

turns it on.

All of a sudden his head feels like it is going to explode.

He is seeing spots before his eyes and his right hand is starting

to shake again.

Robert feels detached from the whole situation he is there but at the same time

he isn’t

His right hand has now taken control of his body.

Robert is powerless to stop what is about to happen

With one slice his left arm is detached at the elbow.

Than he has another go and his whole arm disappears in a blood red mist.

Robert takes one of his last breaths he climbs up onto the band saw and

severs his left leg at the thigh.

His right leg soon follows in an arterial spray.

All Robert can feel is something crawling around in his brain.

Well there is only one way to fix that problem.

So Robert lines up his head and slowly his body moves towards the razor

sharp blades.

And with one slice his head is separated from his body.

Roberts head lands in the saw dust with a bloody thud.

The band saw is still whirring and whinging.

But Robert doesn’t hear a thing.

Because Robert is dead.

As Roberts head lays there in the saw dust and blood

A little rice puff falls from Roberts nose.

And is blown away on the wind.

Elizabeth Clutterbuck is feeling mighty uncomfortable.

She hasn’t moved her bowels in five days.

The way things are going she want have to buy any toilet paper

for a whole year.

Elizabeth really needs to drop a crap.

And she needs to do it now.

Elizabeth doesn’t understand.

She has been eating all bran since she was a child.

And it has always kept her nice and regular.

But now she is backed up all the way to California.

All she wants to do is sit on the toilet and let nature take its

course.

Elizabeth doesnt know what to do.

She eats ten bowls of all bran everyday plus she drinks five

litres of water.

But still there isn’t any movement downstairs.

Elizabeth is so clogged up she is even contemplating seeing a

proctologist.

But she doesn’t want anyone poking and prodding back there.

So she eat another bowl of all bran to ponder the situation.

Elizabeth is now so bloated and full of gas she is almost floating

on the ceiling.

The only thing keeping her grounded is her weight.

Because she isn’t getting rid of her waste she is really packing

on the kilos.

Last week she weighed 65kg now she tips the scales at 84.

When she looks in the mirror she can hardly recognise herself

Her face is all puffed up and distorted.

She looks like a female elephant man.

Elizabeth decides to stop eating altogether.

Well everything except the all bran.

She will never stop eating her favourite cereal.

But Elizabeth is her own worst enemy.

Instead of having a bowl of all bran just for breakfast

She has a bowl every hour on the  hour.

Her body cant get rid of all that bran

And it has settled in her bowel and intestines like cement.

It isn’t going anywhere.

After eating yet another bowl of all bran Elizabeth goes into the

bathroom and sits on the throne.

But there still isn’t any movement at the station.

She is afraid to look at the mirror.

But she has a quick glance and almost dies from fright.

She now looks like a human beach ball.

Her skin is stretched almost to the limit.

She turns away and rolls onto the bathroom scales.

Yesterday she weighed 84 kg now she is up to 98.

Thirty kilos above her normal weight.

Elizabeth hangs her head and starts to cry.

How has it all come to this?

And because she hasn’t been to the bathroom in eight days

Her house is starting to stink.

Because her waste isn’t leaving her body in the normal way.

It is beginning to seep through her skin.

Her skin is now the colour of a very bad fake tan

Not a good look.

But finally there is some good news.

Elizabeth finally has that feeling again.

You know that feeling when you need to do a shit.

She races to the bathroom.

Well races isn’t the right word because Elizabeth now weighs over

120 kilos.

She sits on the toilet and it starts to buckle.

Elizabeth jumps from the toilet before it breaks.

But she comes face to face with the bathroom mirror.

And she is expanding at a rapid rate.

Her skin is stretched to overload.

Elizabeth doesn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

She just explodes.

Like an over ripe water melon her body flies in all directions

Blood gore and shit cover the bathroom from floor to ceiling

Elizabeth a much loved mother and daughter is the latest victim

of a cereal killer.

People i am telling you now there is a cereal killer out there.

So take care

Beware.

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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