101 Words

He is a good man – a married man and a father. She is a good woman – a married woman and a mother. Their paths crossed by chance, one warm summer night. Curiosity turned into familiarity. Familiarity turned into passion. Passion turned into love. Love turned into hope.

They live apart in different worlds. They live together in their own, separated by computer screens and telephone lines. Sometimes they venture out. Looking over their shoulders, they embrace in the shadows, kiss in dark alcoves, and make love on moonlit beaches. Stolen moments are all that they have.

Their fate has been sealed.

– Agent X

They met on January second. He was attractive and so was she. At night they slept alone, and so they made an agreement – from then on they would sleep in her apartment – because she had hardwood floors and he had a roommate. She treated him the same as she had treated everyone that had slept in her bed all the time, except when they were out of town. She treated him like a comfortable stranger for 9 months, and then they decided to carry on this way until they died, because it was nice. They had the same taste in soap.

I never even looked. You’d think in all the years I’ve been at it, I would have checked the box, but no. I mean, I’m hardly to blame, one assumes in my profession that there’s a standard. I still can’t help but feel a bit responsible for what happened. I still hear the screams, at night when I’m alone. It was a tragedy, what that boy did, barely a hair on his chin, no idea what he was doing. The next time I make balloon animals, I’ll have to make sure the kid didn’t get the balloons from his parents’ bedroom.

– Deus

I figure I got two days to live. I stopped using gloves and taking precautions. My weapons lie in a bloody mess on the passenger seat floor, the DNA of 17 humans forever staining the carpet. You’re asking “why?”, but fuck that! You know why. What you really want to know is “how”. How I was able to cross that line from being a cynical critic to becoming a sensationalized serial killer in the media. I do not know. I do know that people love to read my blog as I travel across this great free country on a killing spree.

Although the time seemed right, all external forces were indicating that it was the wrong decision. It was raining, I got a flat tire, all the lights were red. I even ran out of gas if you can believe it. Despite all the setbacks, I persisted. I had spent all month working two jobs – usually about 65 hours a week. As you can imagine, this doesn’t leave much time for extra curricular activities. And despite how much I had been working, I didn’t have much money. Finally I had the day off and I was determined to get some groceries.

“The leaves are turning, a crescendo of color as the song of summer ends. And what we do with our winter, all depends… on what influenced us during the recent summer nights. Did you go for long walks in the dark thinking about your life and lies that caused you strife?”

He stared, blinking, “Seriously? You want to publish that?” “Too gay?” he replied. “It’s so gay I can see the rainbow in your pants. I’ll give you the crescendo bit, but ‘lies that caused you strife’?… Gay!” “You got something better?” he replied. “No, but at least I’m not gay.”