I'm working on a story that I've fallen in love with and I'll eventually post it, but it'll probably be a while yet. But I just found some papers that I'd written little stories on when I was bored at the bar I used to work at. I'd forgotten about and left somewhere else and were returned to me a few weeks back. I like them so I'm copying them here for safe keeping. There's no title, and I might try to expand on one or both, but my batting average for that is really low. Anyway, here:
When she was small, smaller, she caught a terrible flu. It had be going around. Stores were closed, hospital overrun. Sally, my daughter, the nine year old, caught it.
She's a terrible child. A horrible person so far. We knew it then. My wife: "...More like the flu caught sally."
I concurred. It was true. After hours of tests in my basement lab, beakers bubbling, notations made, numbers carried, bunsons burning, I arrived at the inevitable truth: the Flu had caught Sally.
I submit the following proof: After my horrible daughter conquered the flu, no one in Noth Hope has sneezed.
Terrible Bones. (this will come back in a future thing, I realize I have a place for it elsewhere, but for now, in case I lose the paper)
My terrible bones. Awful, useles. I've developed horrible disease, joespeh. Bones like splinters. Edging out. Healing out through the skin, joe. They're leaving. It's terrible. Horrible.
You're off in the sun. You can't imagine how cold it's gotten. The air has changed. Freezing, joe. You took all the warmth right out of this little place. Remember the winter in the stock yards? You were holed up there for months. I didn't realize until February. You'd turned the fire hose on us, put three men in the hospital with exposure. Jesus, but you laughed, Joe.
Three good men. Families and all. Never quite got it cracked. Never found that money. But the hose was enough, to lock you down a few weeks until you vanished. Not sure where you got to. That's fine.
Ha! Then you disapeared all the goddamned wanted posters and dropped them on Main Street like a goddamned ticker-tape. When Conklin told me, I had to run outside to laugh. Everyone was outside to laugh, kids were picking them up and throwing them at eachother like snowballs, Joe, you should've seen it.
I'm guessing you did this, this thing with the bones. Not sure how. I figured you'd figure a way to get me. I just wish you'dve done it like a regular joe, Joe. We've shot at each other enough, what the hell with the bones, Joe? I'm an old man, for christ sake.
I'm sorry about Susan, Joe. We didn't know she was in the house. I want you to know that before it's through. Honest and true, Joe, we didn't know.
See you soon.