Short Stories by Lola Nation - Make it Short

  Background Report:   You know what you did to me, you knew in advance the consequences and the repercussions of your behavior, there was no 60-Minute televised devastating surprise presented to you in an effort to acknowledge the damage you were causing - it was well known and you didn’t care.   So, when we are all wondering how did I get here, we know.   I know you know, you-know I-know, and you know that I had the same lack of control or will power that would have made me the stronger person we wished I was were that it was true - again, this is the best version of me to date.   Imagine that, like an IBM computer, a classic Camaro, I’ve got industrial Steele designs and sleek features but can’t turn a corner to without fishtailing and unless you like staring at black and green screen - I’m out dated, I can’t be younger, I can’t be better, I am the leader that made the rest of you even smarter and faster - and one day, maybe, kids you can out form your master...

  When she’s tired she mumbles, sounds like something you’d drizzle over a baked dessert.   When he’s drunk, he rambles and it’s similar to seeing someone about to slowly yank the table cloth ensuring all the china and cutlery falls to the floor but in a way that no one can stop, it doesn’t fall to the floor per say, but it swerves downward, like he slurs out both sides of his mouth.     When they are, how does one say, alert?   They are divine. A most charming and polite couple that blesses each other and passes the Pepper or salt gracefully and willingly without agitation.   He is the type to wake up, spread his broad arms open and pull her into his embrace, intimately at first, then lovingly kissing the top of her curl and he realizes once she stands and starts to get up to perform routine, he wants her, and he selfishly tugs down on his pajama pants and her negligee is suddenly full of her breast, as if her curves had been. Hiding under the a-line and n...

  Comedy & Tragedy   The Art of Poetry and Comedy Live  

The Daily Affirmation Plan  (1) At the Party, Talking to Colleagues Warm light, corner conversations.   A flush of untucked shirts, pardon me’s, gentle hand on shoulder, passing by, excuse me, coming through. I am barely listening to her, when she says “You know, Jack London wrote that story about me.” “Huh?” I look at my drink, bare bones to ice cubes, I’m melting, I’m melting, I croon in my head like a witchy drunk just converging with the floor. “Jack, the book about the dog that made him quit drinking, you know?   I was the dog.”   She says, seriously, says. I burst into laughter.   I don’t even make the catty remark about her being a perfect bitch too, I am not even sure they existed in the same era and I am certain she only watched the Disney version of any book in her general education vocabulary and remedial inner workings of a brain.   I walk away, fully awake, still laughing and shaking my head and she mouths “Wha?” at me while I turn my head back...