A Katha Upanishad for Millennials and Ranchers

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The home of Yama, King of Death, was a craftsman bungalow near an urban area revitalized for Millenials. The plots in this neighborhood were tiny, the homes half the size of those in newer neighborhoods but twice the cost. Most had seen a non-load bearing wall removed to achieve an open floor concept. Owners of these homes owned vehicles with deluxe emblems on their trunks, and though the main road through the neighborhood was paved with brick, and walking for groceries or to a restaurant was encouraged, vehicles such as these needed to be driven, or rather paraded, often, if not daily. Otherwise what would be the point of anything.

Wet leaves dampened the thud of Nacho’s boot heels on the wooden steps leading to Death’s door. The steps smelled of fresh pine, and fresh paint. The potted mums of fresh soil. The curb appeal was to die for.

Nacho removed…

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The Fate of Lambeth Polly

I was taken a journey and I loved it.

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I am excited and thrilled to present this next piece as part of Waltoween! Nothing I can say by way of introduction will do it justice. If you’re not followingWord Shamble,you’re missing out on some top-notch fiction. (Note: If you are viewing this post in the WP Reader, you may not be seeing the proper formatting. Please click through to the blog. Thanks!)

byLynn Love

He steps back to survey his work.

The alleyway stinks of the Thames, of fish baskets, of ropes steeped in river water. Snatching the handkerchief from his neck, he cleans the filth from his hands, grinds clean the half-moons of his nails.

Time to leave. He almost drops the ruined kerchief, but instead screws the sodden cloth into his trouser pocket to dispose of later.

Now the thing’s done he feels calm. The buzzing in his…

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Here at the beginning

This deserves to be read by everyone.

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Blood and pieces of bone begin to slide up the bedroom wall. A sonic boom sucks out buckshot, sealing holes left behind.

A pasty, overweight man in his late forties sits up in bed. Splatter flies off sheets. The back of his head pieces together, a jigsaw puzzle of skull and scalp.

He leans forward, removes the shotgun from his mouth, removes the cartridge, returns it to the box.

He stands, leans the gun against the wall.

He stares quietly at the gun, sighs, begins to feel less ready. He pushes a tear into his eye.

He sits at his desk, takes a pen, traces letters on a notepad. His sentences disappear under ballpoint. He returns the notepad to the drawer as shadows shorten with the rising sun. On the sidewalk below his apartment in the city, people open doors to return home, slip out of their clean clothes into something…

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Cat

I understand that i totally don’t understand this amazing piece but my understanding is needless to say overwhelmed with admiration

Hot Seat In A Matatu

I had just had a long and exhausting day at work. My supervisor had been sending my ass up and down the whole day and by the time i was getting to sit down….it was already 5pm. I just couldn’t wait to go home and just sit my ass down. So i rushed out of the office, boarded a matatu and i proceeded to a seat next to a mother with a small child, who brightened my mood a little bit with such an innocent smile. I heartily smiled back and advised him telepathically…”enjoy your childhood and don’t ever wish to grow up”.The ride began, took a few deep breathes to cool off from since it had a hot afternoon and proceeded to take a book ‘Rich Dad Poor Dad’ from my bag which i had been reading for a while.

Read probably about 3 pages before some noise distraction occurred by my side while the conductor was collecting bus fare. And i looked across to see the what the commotion was all about. Some coins had been dropped and i helped out collecting them only to meet the gaze from the eyes of a pretty lady who had been sitting next to me the whole time. Smiled at her too and thought to myself “huh..may not be bad day after all”. And i  somehow hated myself for not noticing her earlier. So here i was mesmerized by her beauty, trying to figure out how I’m to start a witty and interesting conversation when the child of the mother next to me started clapping his hands on making playful gestures at me and said “Daddy!” in a not so low voice. I was so perplexed and dumbstruck. But the child went ahead called out again..”Daddy!”.

I look at him and forged a smile but cringed on the inside. I turned my smiling yet puzzled face and looked at the mother to tell her to calm her little boy down and maybe signal him to get his shit together since he was “killing my vibe”…but you know what she does?? She just smiles at me. Oh she was evil! So now here we are…looking like one big happy family. All smiles and a child on repeat bellowing …”Daddy!”.
I look away to avoid eye contact with the child hoping it wouldn’t escalate any further only to find the pretty lady opposite me smiling. Rather embarrassed i tried to salvage the situation and i told her that the small boy really wasn’t my child….which made her plus the person sitting next to her laugh. And trying to explain myself further just bore no fruits and made me look like a fool since the child was now making advances on my lap. Crawling towards me with his cute smiling face oblivious of the discomfort he had started.

And as if my journey wasn’t  turning out bad enough…it dawned on me that this kid does actually look like me! A round cheeky face, same ashy skin as mine. It was unbelievable and freaky at the same time. It couldn’t have just been a coincidence right? I got the seat just  next to this child, i was reading a book about dads! So many questions! But i don’t recognize the mother of the boy sitting next to me. I know i don’t have a son outside there! I’m sure of it. At least i think i am. So i start planning my next move. I still wanna talk to the lady sitting across me but i still need to get myself out of this tricky situation and moving to another sit wasn’t possible since the vehicle was full. So i did what any other guy would do in such a situation to end the dilemma. RUN!!

So i stand up and gather what little ego and self preservation i have left in me and walk towards the door. But wait! God had other plans for me. The little boy starts crying and calls out “Daddy” again. I feel like crying myself at this point! It gets worse. Now the conductor notices the situation and decides to be a comedic fellow and says “C’mon, don’t leave your son mayn!”. To my dismay, the people that sat around me were now laughing. I’m dying inside, slowly losing my patience and ready to jump out of the car while it was moving. The bus finally came to a halt, i jumped off and hastily walked off like a killer from a crime scene. I could still hear the boy crying and i looked back only to see  the pretty lady just waving bye. And now i was walking home…alone.

But i had a consolation. Its not much but I was going to get my body to exercise while walking and get healthy in the process.

One Evening Aboard the Wrong Plane

Great read. Funny and yet sad at the same time

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For much of the flight, the gentleman in 13A noticed nothing out of the ordinary. He smiled at the stewardess. He enjoyed a beverage. He made use of a pillow. The normal hum of cabin noise helped him along quite nicely. In fact, he’d always found the normal hum of the cabin to be rather comforting.

Then something went BANG! and the normal, comforting hum of the cabin erupted into something else entirely. The overall chord, if it can be called that, began to rise steadily in pitch, and became a bit, well, discordant, if you will.

This combined with the fact that the gentleman’s stomach felt as if it were falling out of the sky (which in fact was precisely what was happening) led him towards a state of some mild apprehension as he woke.

“Oh dear,” he said, blinking his eyes, and coming out from under his blanket…

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