chris i just forwarded you on some stuff...it's like three different things from this one guy Ben Jonjak...he is pretty funny...split them up and post the first part today then the rest over the next couple of days. put the title as something like 'the saddest short story' or 'the funniest story is always the shortest' or 'this is a short story and that's all'...something like that...i don't know, make some shit up. i will leave it up to you. hey, you'll never guess what the tech support guys said today about my dslů


Hello James,
First off, here is a short story that you can put on your page if you want.

Fierce Mildew


Ben Jonjak


He was down in the cellar where the wind came in. It was one of those low rent places with nothing but ice cream and cheap porn to keep him occupied. He ate the ice cream. Off in the distance he could hear the haunting music of bag pipes. The sun was falling. It carved a hole in the sky that the birds raced away from instinctively. Suddenly all went dark. The remaining ice cream melted. He put the liquid in a mug and drank it down. Ice cream was better that way. The bricks of the cellar grew mossy and bold. It smelled of mildew, he breathed deeply and sneezed. The cancer in his lungs thrashed rebelliously but he would spitefully pay no heed to its complaints. Off in the distance he could hear the harmony of baying wolves. They were waiting by the harbor, hoping that their ship would come in. The tear in the sky left a long black mark against the blue. He watched it passively for many long hours, sipping his mug of melted mildew. He saluted it finally with a military snap, and grudgingly, as if compelled to do so by an outside force he no longer had the strength to resist, he reached for the porn.

The End