Stories And Other Scribblings. (No.2)

So it's that time again folks. I'm joined once again this week by Mr. Nav Logan and Bryan Thomas with some excellent drabbles from them both. Remember you can find out more about them by clicking their names on the links section. I hope you enjoy :)

Hungry For Love by C.S.Bailey

So I search endlessly, prowling searching for the one
Who shall be mine, at least for the night?
I’m not too fussy, blonde, black, red head or brunette
Even had a close shave, Gillette, the best a man can get
I arrive at the club, it’s ostentatious and loud
She stands there swaying around to the awful sounds and I am mesmerized
I walk up beside her strut my stuff as she looks at me with true disgust
My rotting sheered flesh, my putrid stench and my tattered clothes
ZOMBIE! She shouts.


What’s the matter baby? I’d eat you alive.

Death by Editing by Nav Logan

My dreams are filled with commas and exclamation marks. It is a world of to’s, two’s and too’s. I wrestle with conundrums in my sleep, should I use Oxford commas or not? Would that phrase be better with that or which?
In my dreams I scroll through lines of text, beating them into submission. I reach the end only to start again at the beginning. Every time I do, I find new errors to battle over. Paranoia blames the auto-correct, my imagination blames the faeries.

I feel like Sisyphus and his accursed boulder, but my prison is made of words.

Memory Foam by Bryan Thomas

 
Alan traced his finger lovingly along Samantha's hairline. He followed the line of her nose, hesitating for a moment before continuing over her full lips. He then ran his finger over her left cheek with his delicate, surgeon's touch. He was precise, almost mechanical, until his actions gave way to a shiver, sexual in its nature, which ran throughout the length of his body as he recalled the deed with vivid clarity.

He returned the pillow that he had smothered Samantha with to the cupboard. It sat alongside another four pillows. Soon, Alan would add another pillow to his collection.

Rising Woes by C.S.Bailey

It’s bloody 5:20 A.M,

I wake flustered with sweat dripping from every orifice.

Haunted by dreams of anger, death and heart ache yet surrounded overall by numbness

What on earth is that smell?

I stumble up from my bed; sheets ruffled and proceed to investigate.

Hazy eyed, I head to the kitchen… Nothing there

Living room… Nothing there

Dining room… Nothing there

What the hell is that foul stench!?

Finally I give up. I decide to head to the bathroom for a middle of the night pee.

As I swing open the door, there lies the body in the tub.