bohemian-alien.net

I’m an undertaker, so, go ahead and imagine all the reasons I might be getting sued. Did I dispose of a body improperly?

She’s a beautiful woman, my wife Alex.
I bellied-up to the bar and searched the thick darkness of a pint of Guinness for answers. How could she do this to me, to us?
Her letter sits to my left, neatly folded on the table, and I dare not open it again. Just having it sit there [...]

At four thirty in the morning, stars still twinkled across the sky. Albert Edward Reynolds peered upward and whispered, “It’s time.”
The leather jacket he wore when he flew his missions over France and Germany still fit. Not that it would have fit him every year since World War II. He definitely had his share of [...]

Ah, crap. Where’d they go, now?
Than Spelen slowed his pace while he scanned the dark woods around him. A light powder of snow blanketed the ground and tree limbs. Everything seemed tranquil. Too tranquil.
SNAP!
Than turned his head toward the sound behind him.
Oh, you’re good.
He broke into a dead run. Trees whipped by and he leapt [...]

It happened on a Sunday, you know the Sabbath! We had just gotten back from church where our pastor had delivered a snoozer about temptation when we noticed there was movement in the TV room. My wife screamed and ran back into the kitchen.
“Adam, there’s something in there!” she shrieked!
“It must be a rat!”
“Never had [...]

“Daddy car now?”
I chuckled, gently leading Madi from the nursery by the hand. We were alone today because it was my wife’s shift at the hospital, but I didn’t mind. Our “father-daughter” weekends were special, and I enjoyed picking Madi up from the nursery almost more than the service. Her joyful squeals gave our studies [...]

“You and women. I stare at a girl, and I’ll get slapped with a restraining order. You stare, and they start undressing you with their eyes. What I wouldn’t give to be you for just a day.”

From the pulpit, the preacher’s voice rings deep, husky tones. The woman shifts in her seat. Crosses the opposite leg, brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, wonders whether she will go to hell.

There it was, the figure of a man, a very tall thin man, robed and hooded in black, lying upon the forest floor, barely moving.

Samaqyazeel is a story best enjoyed while consuming French cuisine.