Secondhand Wedding Dress

The young couple saw the wedding dress in the window of the secondhand store and Arekkusu thought it perfect. So she and her fiance, Kairu decided to go inside, so she could try it on. After the shop owner retrieved the garment for Arekkusu, she told the bride-to-be that the dress brought bad fortune in the past to the women who’ve worn it.

“What do you mean, ‘bad fortune?’” Arekkusu asked the old lady.

“I have sold this same dress three times now,” she explained, “And it keeps coming back, the women always broken-hearted.”

Arekkusu laughed off the tale and hurried to the dressing room. Slipping on, Arekkusu looked in the mirror, where she saw herself change. She found she could hardly breathe, the air around her stale and cold. That’s when Kairu heard her crying.

“What’s wrong,” he asked through the closed-door.

“The dress makes me look hideous,” Arekkusu sobbed, “Like a Gila monster or an iguana.”

Kairu, thinking Arekkusu was suffering from pre-wedding jitters, said, “No you don’t.”

“Oh, yes I do, maybe I look more like a komono dragon” Arekkusu argued, “I don’t even look half as cute as the female ogre from the movie ‘Shrek.’”

“What are you talking about?” Kairu responded, adding, “You’d make a burlap sack look gorgeous!”

“You think so?” she asked nervously.

“Open up and let me look at you,” he gently pleaded.

Cautiously she unlocked the door. And though Kairu was not ready for what he was seeing, his future bride covered in brownish scales, her eyes like round pale-yellow moons containing deep black slits, he remained steadfast.

“When I asked to marry you,” he calmly answered, “I meant it for all time – for bad or good.”

Then Kairu reached out, taking her by the hands, and gently pulling her to him, he kissed her sweetly. As they embraced, Arekkusu softly began glowing and in that glow, she returned to the young woman she had been before putting on the dress.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” the shop owner commented, taking their money. The couple simply laughed and walked out the door, arm-in-arm and garment in hand.

Arekkusu and Kairu knew that the secondhand wedding dress was now forever-altered by their firsthand love. And as for the old woman who owned the secondhand store? She never saw the gown again — in fact the old woman and her store vanished as soon as the pair turned the corner.

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When Kevin Ran for His Life

He drives by it nearly everyday — it being a grotesque statue-like figure of a dinosaur, but it wasn’t to long ago when Kevin watched a thunderhead built into a sizable cloud, north of him. He could tell it wasn’t going be a wet storm like the one the day before, so he continued to sit outside on his front porch.

Suddenly the cloud came alive with a long, bright streak of lightning jumping from it’s side. He felt the hairs rise on his body and heard it crash into the house with a deafening roar. Within seconds, Kevin knew something more than a simple lightning strike to the building was wrong.

There was an outrageous racket happening inside his home and as he opened the door to investigate, the large picture window of his front room exploded outward. With that explosion came the large head and shoulders of a green beast covered in feathers and a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth. It was a Tyrannosaurus Rex – and the thing eye-balled Kevin as if he were it’s next meal.

Though he hadn’t done much running in recent years, Kevin sprinted from the porch as the T. Rex busted through the rest of his living room’s front wall. He made it to the corner before looking back. Kevin could see the green dinosaur stopped, smelling his neighbor’s pink roses; then eating the buds, thorns and all, before returning to the chase.

By that time Kevin was racing down the side street to the main roadway. He found himself amazed at how slow the big lizard was in real-life. Nothing like the one’s portrayed on the TV or big screen. Those leathery bastards were quick, running down their human prey in seconds flat. He was also surprised at his endurance and the speed in which he’d managed to cover the distance from his destroyed home to the main road.

Unfortunately, he was losing steam and Mister T. Rex was gaining ground on him. As he willed himself to continue running, Kevin heard several vehicle’s squeal their tires as drivers either slammed on their breaks or crashed trying to avoid hitting the brutish nightmare chasing after the hapless man.

He had all but given hope of continuing to out pace the monstrosity, when he heard the behemoth smash through a wooden fence on the opposite side of the road, to dine on a barking dog. Kevin turned to watch the frightened canine escape through the damaged fence line and disappear into a nearby field.

Next thing Kevin knew, a bolt of lightning danced across the sky, striking the abomination. There was a blinding, white flash and a crashing accompaniment of thunder as Kevin sailed backwards into a roadside ditch. It took him a few seconds to recover, before he could climb the bank and see what had become of the monster.

To his delight, the thing had shriveled to a quarter of it’s size and was now a charcoal gray, it’s iridescent green plumage burned away. He could tell by it’s hideous white smile and vacant eye-sockets that the would-be man-eater was dead. Kevin spent the rest of that day, all night and most the next morning trying to explain how his sweet, gregarious little parakeet had transformed Frankenstein-like into a gigantic prehistoric dinosaur.

Little Dolly’s Day Out

Granddaughter insists Grandpa carry Little Dolly. Though embarrassed, Grandpa does so without complaint. After playing in the park, Granddaughter wants to pick blackberries, so the pair pluck ripened berries till noon.

Scared of rustling in the bushes, Granddaughter wants to go, believing it’s Zombies. They hurry home. Granddaughter takes a nap. Grandpa visits Facebook.

Grandpa realizes he’s forgotten Granddaughter’s Little Dolly. Heading to the park, Grandpa recalls Granddaughter’s zombie-fears. Grandpa finds Little Dolly where he left her. Walking home, Grandpa doesn’t think anymore of Zombies or Granddaughter’s Little Dolly.

However, Little Dolly — now a Zombie — has both on her mind.

Trigger Squeeze

Jasper fingers the trigger in desperation. He knows the numbers are a fraud before starting. Ninety-six-cents makes a big difference in the life of a man with no job, little money, less pride.

He thinks, “I can’t.”

Jasper also knows that there is nothing he can do about it. He looks at his shoes. He could walk away, but again that would do nothing. So Jasper decides to end it, no more debating, no further argument, nothing but the act remaining. He exhales, squeezing the trigger.

The gas pump thunks to life — the numbers racing by too fast to count.

Recalling My Nevada Refugee Warning

In August 2016, I posted an article about foreign refugees being resettled in Northern Nevada. I was roundly criticized, including being called an Islamophobe, for pointing out how these people were not being properly scrutinized, setting up the possibility that they could bring acts of terror to the state and the U.S.

Well, here is an update…

Over the last few weeks, the Reno Police Department received reports of “several instances” from women who’ve been followed by unidentified men. And in at least one local news report, the female victim told law enforcement she’d been followed by more than one unknown male.

The majority of these instances have happened in the parking lot of large retail businesses during normal business hours. Nearly all the suspects are described as wearing an earpiece or using a cellphone and appeared to be working in coordination with another group of men in the area.

In fact, there are a couple of Facebook postings from the Reno area, where woman have captured photos of ‘foreign speaking’ men approaching them or congregated in parking lots. One incident happened in the parking structure of the Cal-Neva in downtown, another at the Walmart on Damonte Ranch Parkway, and a third attack where a woman was apparently yanked from her vehicle, though little has been reported on the attack.

Add to this the strange incident of a woman allegedly speaking with a ‘heavy accent,’ stealing the purse of an injured woman involved in a car crash near Virginia and Plumb, in Reno. She may have been working in concert with three other individuals at the time of the theft, since they were spotted together at Shoppers Square during the time of the incident.

In the Damonte Ranch incident, the woman reported that she was confronted by a man, who upon approaching her said, “Hello dear, how’s your day going, you are extremely beautiful.” She was polite in her response to him, but continued walking.

Once inside the store, she turned to see him walking around her car and looking in it. She reported the man’s activities to the store’s security and eventually had them walk her out to her car so she could safely leave the area.

But before this happened, she observed him not only meet up with another man and listened as the two spoke in a foreign language to each other, they both returned to her car. Finally, a white van with five more men in it pulled up behind her vehicle and the two men looking at her car, got in it.

She said the group of seven drove around the parking lot slowly, passing by her car each time. Next they parked four rows away and appeared to be waiting for her to return to her car and that once security threatened to call the police, they drove off.

This is the same thing that has been happening throughout Europe, though very little has been openly reported on the way these incidents are set-up or unfold. In the end though, the majority of these attacks end in a brutal rape and even the death of the female victim.

To be straight, no one is certain of the number of refugees the state of Nevada has taken in, or from what part of the globe they’ve come from. What’s known is that terrorism takes many forms, and it has one aim — to strike fear into others. So go ahead, call me what you will, but the time is now to be vigilant. They are among us and they’re a danger to our safety and our society.

Sharing

My feet tangle.

Glancing down, I see Batman’s bat-a-rang on a line, zipping around my ankles, pulling tight. With no ability to place one foot ahead of the other, I topple, a full-body slam to the floor. Before I know it, a blur of red and blue rolls me over, so quickly, so many times, I nearly puke.

As Superman rotates, Spiderman flings his webbing, immobilizing me neck to foot. I put up a fight to free myself from the wet, sticky goo, but can’t move more than my right hand, which is in my pocket. Confused, I cry out, “Why? What have I done to you?”

The voice is unmistakable as Batman growls, “You didn’t share.”

“What?” I ask.

“You failed to share the Pez candies you brought home yesterday,” he explains.

With a furrowed-brow, I question, “How in the hell…”

“You can’t fool Yogi or Boo-Boo’s noses,” Aquaman interrupts.

“They knew the instant you opened your front door,” Santa continues.

“And to think I fought my best friend defending you,” I call out, adding “You fat bastard, Kris!”

Toy Story Woody mosies over as Luke Skywalker demands, “So, where did you hide them, Luke Two?”

“Huh?” I respond, “Hide what?! What the eff are you talking about?!

“The Pez candies, you S-O-B!” Fozzie Bear snarls, spraying slobber in my face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I pled.

“Do your thing, Wonder Woman!” Tweetie Bird instructs.

In an instant I feel the Lasso of Hestia drop over my forehead. The pressure so intense I can’t resist answering truthfully as Batman (Ben Affleck, not Christian Bale) steps forward, gargling, “Where’s the Pez candies?”

The harder I try not answering, the greater the Lasso tightens at my temples, until I blurt out, “Drawer on left, closest to dishwasher!!!” As the pain subsides, I hear the clacking of my collection of Pez dispensers in the kitchen. A drawer opens, a plastic bag rustles, a drawer closes. The disorganized clacking starts up, moving down the hallway.

“Wait!” I scream, “What about me? You can’t jus’ leave me like this?”

“Oh, yes we can,” replies Return of the Jedi’s Princess Leia Organa, “Besides we want to hear how you explain this to your wife.” She disappears with the other dispensers into the back room and the leather satchel they live in.

My right hand is touching my lock-blade knife. Slipping it from my pocket, I flick it open, stabbing into the now-dry and ever hardening web. I must hurry – my wife’s due home in less than half-an-hour.

The Long Way Down

Bbbrrraaappp…shit, my damn cellphone.

It’s three-in-the-morning, can’t be good news. I roll over to pick it up, zap, blinding lights flash from it, my body receives a violent jolt that crashes through my body, hundreds of old-fashioned photographic flash bulbs explode in my brain.

“What the hell!” I cry, my arms and legs twitching uncontrollably.

Never in my life have I ever been electrocuted, I’m certain I’ve survived a deadly shock and will live to tell about it. But something is wrong, out of whack, not right. As I gain control of my limbs, the photo-flashes dissolving into darkness, I cannot find the edge of my bed.

Slowly, I roll over. I look where my legs should be, I see my dog. Buddy’s face; eyes are open, looking at me like nothing’s wrong. But he’s huge, larger than life, out of proportion to the rest of me as I reach over to rub his giant, moist nose. I can hear his tail at the end of the bed wagging – thump, thump, thump.

My hand’s tiny against his brown set of nostrils. I know I am in trouble. I’ve shrunk to the size of a naked G.I. Joe. My bed is bigger than a football field and as wide. I’m leery of moving too fast towards where I believe the edge of my bed should be — I don’t want to fall off. Dropping to my hands and knees, I crawl. Buddy’s tail continues to slap in happiness behind me, my heart beats in rhythm to the sound.

“Un-fucking-believable,” I tell myself as I find the edge, realizing I cannot see the floor, my desk or anything beyond my white sheets.

There’s no way I can jump – but perhaps I can climb down using my blanket. So I re-position myself, dangling my legs over the edge of the bed, turned trap. As I grasp the blanket next to me, I feel Buddy move. The bed undulates with each motion Buddy makes. I redouble my grasp on my blanket, keeping my balance.

Suddenly – Buddy sniffs at me – his cold, gigantic wet nose touching my naked ass. Son-of-a-bitch! I jump from the chilly surprise. Next thing I know I’m airborne, falling into the blackness ahead of me. Thank goodness the arm-rest on my office chair’s padded as I slam my forehead full-force into it. Buddy jumps from the bed. He joyfully licks my face.