Archive for Bad Stuff

Get Away From Me

Neither George Orwell’s “1984” nor Ayn Rand’s “Atlas Shrugged” imagined the scene we are living at this moment. Their tomes are mild compared the current unprecedented and unforeseen scenario.
This morning, on the walking trail, I saw two ladies approaching. They were obviously together, I assume friends, and were walking one on either side of the path, keeping as from one another as they could. As I got closer, the one on my side hurried ahead of her friend, glancing back to make sure she was maintaining proper distance protocol. My, “Good morning,” nor my presence was acknowledged as I passed them.
A while later, as I walked across the parking lot at Kroger’s, a lady stumbled and went to her knees. I reflexively hurried to her and said, “Are you okay? Can I help you up?” She literally screamed at me. “Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” I was shocked, but complied with her wishes, and walked away.
by the seaIs this where we’ve come to? Is this the world we live in? It makes me terribly sad.
It seems, like lemmings, people have been led to the edge of a sea of fear. Some of them will walk into it, never to return, while others will stand at the edge, trembling in fear, yet content in the belief they are doing as they should. At times, some will begin to wander back toward the world they knew before, hoping it will be as it was when they left it. Those remaining at the edge will scream for them to come back to safety; begging them to do as they’ve been told. It’s too soon to go back!
And those who refused to follow and worship with the multitudes who tremble and pray to the alter of fear? They are cursed and accused of bringing danger—even death—upon those who choose to do the “right thing”.

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Come Hell or High Water

I haven’t written a short story in ages, but for some reason I’m feeling a bit creative today. I used to write a lot of them, before my good friend, Kellie Elmore, decided she wanted to be a photographer. She used to do a “Free Write Friday” on her blog, and I enjoyed the heck out of it. So here ya go! Hope you enjoy it!

Come Hell or High Water

man shadow 2

As I passed beneath the street lamp, out of the corner of my eye I saw my shadow quiver. Maybe the beer-tender had been right when she’d said, “You’ve had enough. Go home.” I grinned and thought, “Her bad”, as my shadow glanced my way then slid with me into the dark night where only a spattering of stars and a pale sliver of moon strained through thin clouds to light the black tar road.

She should’ve known it was the wrong thing to say. She knows me well enough to know if I’m told I can’t, or shouldn’t do something, or have something, then do, or have it, I will. Come hell or high water, as they say. Especially considering what had happened this morning. But then, she couldn’t know. No one knew. Yet. But they would. And when they knew, it would be too late for this backwater piece-of-crap town. Because by then, the proverbial water would be too deep, and literal hell would be at their doorstep.

First thing I had to do was get some guns. I didn’t own any, and being an over the hill, white conservative man, that fact had surprised more than one of my friends. I use the word friend loosely, because truth be known, I couldn’t put a hand on the shoulder of one man in this town—or any other town—who would claim me as a friend. Not that I’m a bad, or unlikeable guy, but… well… maybe I am, in a way. What I am, when you get right down to it, is a loner, and people can feel that. And feeling it is more than sensing it, if you get my drift. It makes their shadow quiver.

As for not having any guns, when they ask me I always answer the same way, “Don’t need any guns, and if I ever do, I know who has them.” I love the looks I get when I say that. You say something like that, you got to look at their eyes. You can read a person’s mind through their eyes. Especially when their afraid. Come to think of it, that’s probably why I don’t have any friends. I scare the hell out of people.

I guess you could say I’m the strong, silent type. One of those guys you can tell a joke to, if you can settle for a sideways grin in place of a laugh. A guy you can nudge, but you best be sure the nudge doesn’t have even a hint of a shove to it. One of those guys you can tell with one look—because that’s all he’ll tolerate—you don’t want to mess with him. A guy who can intimidate a bigger man with just a glance; something in the blue eyes—a mixture of cold steel and I-don’t-give-a-rat’s-ass—that say without saying, he won’t be taking no shit off nobody. A guy that knows he’s gonna die, but knows it ain’t gonna happen today, and you sure as hell ain’t gonna have anything to with it.

So… you want to be my friend?

Copyright © C MASHBURN 2017

Click here to read part two –> What I Meant to Say Was…

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If You Say So…

 “In Accordance With Fact or Reality,” is the dictionary’s definition of “true.” And so I’ve come to the conclusion the word “true” is no longer a reality because, the fact is… truth has become a personal and individual thing. A choice. Read the rest of this entry »

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I Thought I was Alone

A few days ago, I posted a poem about the many people I’ve left behind as I steamrolled through life. The following is about one of them; true story—sad, but true. The thing is, we grow up thinking we’re the only ones going through what we’re going through, when there are others going through the same things. And we never even know it… or do we. Read the rest of this entry »

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Maybe I’ve Got Time

Do you ever think about an old friend, and wonder what happened to them; where they are now? Do you wonder why you lost touch with them; why they didn’t care about you enough to stay in touch, and remain a part of your life? I do, and it usually comes down to the fact I didn’t care enough to try to remain a part of theirs. It’s one of those things I tend to beat myself up about. Maybe I’ve got time to fix it. Read the rest of this entry »

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Then the Moth Showed Up

Did you ever have to hold the flashlight for your dad while he worked on something? Man, I hated that! When you’re a kid, flashlights seem to want to point everywhere except where they’re supposed to.

I was about twelve, the old man was working on his old truck, and when dark-thirty settled in, he yelled for me to bring the flashlight. Oh, jeez. Here we go. Read the rest of this entry »

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What Are We Afraid Of?

I saw a video on Facebook recently depicting a young man doing a “social experiment”. At a park where mothers were watching their young children play, he would approach the mother, and ask them if their child would talk to a stranger. In the examples shown, the mother would always answer in the negative, saying their child was taught not to talk to strangers. With the mother’s permission, the man would then approach their child and start up a conversation. In each instance, the child would eagerly and freely converse with him. Then, the child would take the man’s hand and walk out of the park with him, having been told he/she would get to see more puppies. Now, he cheated in the fact he had a puppy with him, but then would a child abductor not use the same or similar tactic? Read the rest of this entry »

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Bernie Tries to Fly

I wrote this several years ago when I still gave a birds butt about politicians and their lies. I used one of their names in the title, but the name can be changed to suit your own opinion/affiliation. Almost everyone chooses a destination, what flight path they will take, and the “leader” they think can get them there, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s the love-or-hate, my-way-or-the-highway, thing we’ve evolved to that caused me to step aside, and that, my friends, is pretty much the point of this sordid little tale.

Bernie Tries to Fly

It was a crazy idea, and I refused to have anything to do with it. I said, “I’ll watch, but that’s it. I want nothing to do with your feather-brained scheme.” Read the rest of this entry »

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Sudden Death!

There were times I literally lived in fear of my dad. At the time, it wasn’t fun, and it darn sure wasn’t funny, but now, looking back, some of the things that took place were a bit humorous in a terrifying sort of way. This is one of them: Read the rest of this entry »

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He was an angry, hate-filled man, who could at times be the complete opposite. Unfortunately, the angry side was the dominant one, and when he died—alone and still mad at the world—few wept.

And then there’s me—the guy who professes to be afraid of nothing, yet fears he is too much like the man who raised me–not my father, but whose name I carry. Read the rest of this entry »

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