"What do we need from the store? I already have 'measuring cups' written down."
Tag: Black comedy
Possibly in Michigan
So today we're having the equivalent of a Class Movie Day here on Phantasmagorium. In the spirit of rest and relaxation--and extreme discomfort--I thought we'd watch "Possibly in Michigan," a ten-minute short film directed by Cecelia Condit.
Bought and Souled
"I bought my ticket outta Hell the same way I bought my ticket in: feedin' the baby diamonds."
Character Building: The Dating Game
When I hit writer's block, seven times out of ten it means I didn't know my characters well enough. If I knew my hero, I'd know exactly what he planned to do next. If I knew my villain, I'd know exactly what he's been up to in the background. So maybe it's time we writers asked them to dinner.
7 Microprompts for Things in the Dark
When I found out there was such a thing as Ratcatcher's Day, I had to make it a writing occasion.
Day 25: Wax Blood
“Nothing to worry about,” the Aurelius assured them, setting the candlestick back in his antique menagerie. Warmth wafted into the space again. “Happens all the time. You can get off the floor, kids, don’t be shy.”
Day 24: Koi Skeletons
Black koi skeletons swam like they were still alive inside glass walls too thin to hold them. A plain-looking, straight-cut blazer on the floor was cordoned by chains, and smoked occasionally with black magic. Disembodied whispers leaked from vents, and the number of individuals wearing sunglasses indoors was simply too high.
Day 15: Jackson Pollock
They crowded up to a rattling, graffiti-riddled bus with no other passengers and an unshaven driver, who to James smelled of despondence and whisky. The driver lolled out of his chinfolds to blink out the open door at the six of them. If he noticed the gun between James’ shoulders or the threatening arm around Lizzy’s, he didn’t comment.
Day 14: Childhood Enemies
“Let’s leave my father’s alcoholism out of this, operative,” the big guy retorted, stiff as a board. He crossed his arms so the muscles in his shoulders all popped out like mutated grapes. “I’m in charge of this squad, in case you forgot. So stuff it, Tess.”
Response Time
"Hey." With laser acuity, the close-leaning man leers over the sticky table and into my v-neck. "Nice tits." ...