|I'll give you a llama! =3|
The Deathworkers AgencyThe most annoying thing about death is all the paperwork involved. Every morning, Lyle and I make the trip to the warehouse to sift through today’s files and see whose soul we get to summon and send into the light.The Deathworkers Agency by frizzymissizzy
“Harold Lassiter, aged eighty-six,” I read from the list of names. “Heart attack. Leaves behind a loving wife, Katherine, and a German shepherd, Goober.”
“Maya Hernandez, twenty-one,” Lyle adds. “Car wreck. Leaves behind a little sister, Leslie, and an absent father. I think I remember her mother somewhere…” He glances around the massive warehouse, at the rows and rows of filing cabinets detailing the fates of billions. Other interns scramble around us, trying to make sure they get to all of our clients on time. Hanging above, a clock the size of a semi truck ticks away the seconds.
I remember first walking into the warehouse at Deathworkers Agency. The place is so big that, in my three years here, I have yet to fi
The Candy ShopThe candy shop showed up near the end of April, planting itself in the abandoned yellow building on the corner of Millard and Oak Grove. By the time May drifted to a close, the boarded-up windows had been washed and lined with pink curtains and someone had planted a garden in front that inexplicably bloomed to life in only four weeks.The Candy Shop by frizzymissizzy
Mary Elizabeth and I were some of its first customers, though she’d only come along because I had been curious. “Aren’t candy stores for children, Annie?” she’d asked. “We’re going to high school in a couple months. I know you still like to order from the kid’s menu sometimes, but what’s wrong with, you know, doing grown-up things?”
A bell rang over the front door and the candy shop came to life. Lights around the front sign flashed while the flowers opened their petals wider. A sweet aroma wafted into the street.
The door opened and there stood a man tall enough to have to duck through th
the beauty's in the leavingRead aloud here.the beauty's in the leaving by disrhythmic
sweetheart, let's head out. let's
drink up the desert asphalt and that last bottle
of johnny walker blue--
one last toast to the copper sunsets,
to the good earth. a pair of
tailgate stargazers, you and i:
roaming curves across the glove compartment map, until
every foldline is worn flannel-soft
and it'd rather stay open
let's forget route sixty-six. let's forget
and pick up terra cotta dust--
breathe in the mojave. let's pretend
that the world's already ended
and it's just us.
let's leave the door unlocked
Pop! Goes the WeaselPop! Goes the Weasel by tommyboywood
"All around the cobbler's bench
the monkey chased the weasel
the monkey thought 'twas all in fun
pop! goes the weasel"
Interview 1 The Monkey
"Look man, I was just havin' a good time, ya know? Monkeys have a long-standing tradition of terrorizing weasels, everyone knows that! It was me and him. I chased the little bugger for miles before we reached that cobbler shop. Around and around the bench we went until... hey, how was I supposed to know his head would pop off?! I mean, that is just not supposed to happen, ya know?" (Knock knock) "Hello? Who's there?" "Police, open up!" "Wha??? Hey man, what's with the cuffs? Wait! Hold on!! No, the cobbler made me do it! I swear, I'm innocent man. Hey, Owww! Not so tight, dude! MOMMY!"
Interview 2 Weasel's Grandma
"Junior was a good boy. Never got into a lick of trouble, ever! Well, there was the time he weaseled his way out of a theft charge (whoops! heh heh, pardon the pun). Never did like monkeys, no sir