Of Nukes and Girlfriends

Of Nukes and Girlfriends

Posted by A Great Liar

It’s been six years since I last met her. And the question was a long time coming.

‘Where have you been, Lev?’ She asked, her eyes never leaving me.

Where else? I wondered. But drunk in mindless abstinence and faithless despair.

I stammered back. ‘Well, I got kinda religious, and grew a beard. My priorities changed. You know, one of those things.’

‘Overnight?’ She asked. ‘I find it hard to believe. You were such a party animal, hon.’

‘Well, yea’. I replied. ‘Kind of. I wanted to blast all the liberals to hell, or tie a nuke up my ass and jump from the Empire State Building.’ Paused. ‘Like I said, my priorities changed.’

A Vampire Beyond The Waistline

A Vampire Beyond The Waistline

Posted by A Great Liar

Did the sexual prowess of a vampire ever exceeded beyond the waistline, not till the world was swept away by the bubonic plague (of literary essence) by the name of twilight. Not till Robert Pattison and Kristen Stewart began to cuddle in the scorching sunlight or under the oak trees tirelessly sequel after sequel. 

“Who would want to date a girl who reads twilight?” A friend of mine would often exclaim over lunch, petrified by the injustice done to the vampire creed by Lady Meyers. “I wouldn’t”.

Inevitably that resolution of his narrowed his options down to a considerably degree, since if there is anything a girl lives to achieve in her life, that is to read twilight. And if not all, then just about all of them would eventually end up doing it.

A World Without

A World Without

Posted by A Great Liar

Imagine discovering a world without an end, or a meaning; inconsistent in its glory, changing and emulating both in essence and visage.

That precious secret … pressed firmly against the palm of your hand, your eyes wide with excitement and anticipation. Your whole being concentrated to keep the secret locked within your grasp, with every sinew of your existence focused to keep the treasure buried within your cupped hands.

Keeping the proverbial butterfly within. 

The very question of your existence lingering, imprisoned in that one moment of covetousness. Like an exercise in infinity posed by the dreaded question of what would happen if the butterfly ever managed to get away. 

Imagine that strangest of all world being lost once and for all, never to be had again.

Imagine your poverty.

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