Phil finished replacing the bathroom faucet, turned on the water supply valves and got off the floor to try it out all while listening to a commercial promoting his hometown as the best Little Babylon in the country.
There’s sin aplenty in Blislisnis! We have everything from soul scorching addictions to petty titillations – all at discount prices! Our trained experts will tease your mind with vain imaginations and pump your darkened heart into a foolish frenzy.
After turning the handles, Phil watched the water leak from the drain pipe. While cleaning up the mess and fixing the leak he told me that my story made no sense and he rarely, if ever – no – he never EVER went to those sin arcades in Blislisnis.
Trying to find something impressive to say the guide told the group he was leading through the cave that some of the mineral deposits they were looking at were as old as the most ancient graves directly above them in Blislisnis, but none of them were impressed.
He then asked them if they ever experienced darkness blacker than a demon’s heart before? Hearing only snorts of ridicule he waited till they were walking down a precarious set of metal stairs to turn off the lights without warning. Although the space in the cave collapsed abruptly onto their eyes the echoes of their screams convinced them it was still there.
When the guide let the light pop reality back into place with its ups and downs and rights and lefts, the group plotted in whispers to get even, should they ever get out, by filing complaints to the proper authorities of Blislisnis. The guide knew the stirrings of their hearts, but he also knew there weren’t enough live people left in the ghost town above them to care.
Jeremy’s Bible had a red ribbon glued to the spine which served as a bookmark. Being a gift from his mother he kept it in great shape by not reading it.
Motivated by some controversy that stormed from social media onto his imagination, he opened the book expecting to get to the bottom of the mystery in no time. However, the parts he thought he knew he realized he barely knew at all and the parts he didn’t know – oh, those awesome parts he now knew he didn’t know – humbled him.
Years later when the cover fell open because the spine of the book had crumbled he noticed his mother’s handwriting. She wrote in small letters, shyly so as not to offend and yet boldly so as not to encourage unbelief, “May your life be blessed, my dear Jeremy.”
The easiest way to get out of a labyrinth is not to go in. They’re all dead ends anyway with monsters seeking someone to devour. Guard your heart and train your imagination to stay focused on better things.
Every time Jeremy got lost in a labyrinth he realized his father was right. He’d promise, should he be given the insight to find his way out, that he’d focus on better things, but times would get easy and he’d get lost again.
The final time Jeremy got lost the monsters found what they were looking for before he found his way out, but at the moment when those beasts gloated in triumph he cried out and saw his father run toward him with open arms.
Miriam’s mother, Jennifer, answered the doorbell to find Snaky, a dragon from the Land of Wormy Delights disguised in a tailored suit, asking her if he could borrow her daughter as a sacrifice. In a loud voice Jennifer called to Miriam, “There’s a nice-looking, young man here who would like to borrow you as a sacrifice to his lord of the 33rd something-or-other (degree) degree…lucywoosi (Illuminatus) illuminatus…?… (Illuminati) latiwhati…(palm slap)”.
As soon as Miriam heard the word “sacrifice” she grabbed the can of Dra-Gone! dragon repellant, the brand with the slogan You never know when you’ll never need it, and rushed to protect her mother shaking the can to charge it for a direct strike onto Snaky’s snout. As soon as Snaky saw the can he ran.
That stuff must really work, thought Jennifer, wondering if they might squirt just an itsy-bitsy bit of it as a test in the street in spite of multiple warnings on the can to never – ever – even think of doing something like that. After the two adventurous experimenters took deep breaths and Miriam gingerly touched the sprayer to release an itsy-bitsy bit they ran back inside gagging, bolting the door, sealing the frame with duct tape while the neighborhood dogs went bananas.
Gerald answered the doorbell and recognized Snaky that dragon from the Land of Wormy Delights who had earlier tried to kidnap his wife standing in front of him with a sheep-eating grin. Snaky’s acquaintances at Wormy Delights suggested to him that perhaps it was impolite not to ask the husband before running off with his wife and so Snaky asked Gerald, “Can I borrow your wife as a sacrifice to my lord and 33rd degree master, Illuminatus Illuminati, Lucy Satanus, Supercilious Serpent Maximus, et cetera, et cetera?”
Gerald played along asking, “Will you bring her back in one piece?”
Although Snaky knew that lying was a great way to blow up the sanity supporting rational communication, he feared that such an eruption right now might diminish the value of the sacrifice in some mysterious way only those in a higher pay-grade could comprehend. So, to be safe, to make sure the super serpent he served wouldn’t kick his butt later, Snaky took the sheep out of his mouth to respond without mumbling, “No.”
“Then, no, you can’t borrow her,” Gerald said.
Denise offers the prompt word “eruption” to be used in this week’s Six Sentence Stories. This dragon tale continues from Stroke – Six Sentence Story.
Gerald caught up with Snaky, the dragon who kidnapped his wife, Miriam, and told him to gently, very gently, open his mouth and set her down. After Snaky did she went to Gerald’s side putting her hands to her hair to stroke it back in place and then wiping off the dragon slime so they could both pay full attention when giving Snaky a piece of their minds, such as, What has gotten into you?
Raising his chest with snorts of pride and showing grotesque teeth and dragon boogers dripping through his nostrils’ steam, Snaky bellowed that he wanted to rip their hearts out squishing them slowly, very slowly, as sacrifices to his lord and master of the 33rd degree, Illuminatus Illuminati, Satánus Luciferus, marked with the 666 seal, the Supreme Serpent for whom he’d gladly lay down his dragon bones and die.
After pausing to permit this to sink in Gerald and Miriam looked at each other and laughed leaving even Snaky erupting in spooky grunts at his own expense. Pointing out to him that he had unintentionally rubbed his bottom in what looked like dragon-itch poison ivy Gerald and Miriam figured it was time to leave before they started itching as well.
As they turned from the deluded rainbow kingdom of mischievous enchantment, ever troubling the visions of misguided youth and the dreams of the witless old, it faded exposing an underbelly of demented fantasies and wormy delights.
The only thing Gerald wanted was that key dangling from the neck of the sorceress who said as she offered him an apple squishing the worm popping its head from the core: Take another bite.
He tried to recall what he was doing there as she charmed him explaining, But, Gerald, you know you’re addicted and it’s time for your medication. To prove her point she unlocked his chains with the key to show him just how pathetically weak he had become. Besides, she loved watching her victims go through the agony of deciding what they really wanted: freedom or wormy delights?
Thankfully for Gerald the fog cleared in time for him to remember why he entered this godforsaken kingdom of enchantment in the first place. Unchained he rushed off to resume rescuing his wife kidnapped by Snakindegras, a particularly ornery dragon he couldn’t wait to get his hands on, while the witch with the apple screamed in the distance: Run, Snaky, run!