“Sometimes I wish I’d never been born!”
“Dude, you weren’t”
“Oh, that’s right,” the man’s imaginary friend said, then disappeared.
— Bastian Espada
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What is the true nature of the Universe?
I weep, for I do not know.
— Bastian Espada
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The weird kid grabbed the tip of the branch as it were a hand, and sat next to the snowman he had made. “Some months will pass, and you’ll be gone.” The child turned his head to face his creation. “You’re so ephemeral.”
“Well, so are you,” replied the snowman.
“I know”
They stayed there side by side, staring at the starry night.
— Bastian Espada
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“It happened a long time ago — when grandpa was still alive and grandma still remembered things.”
— Bastian Espada
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Time bleeds a purple ichor — it washes over a gray melaminated desk.
A silver laptop blinks.
A new spreadsheet opens.
— Bastian Espada
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“Oh baby, I like it stinky,” the woman said to her lover — a six-foot tall sentient brick of Limburger cheese.
— Bastian Espada
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“Given the severity of your crimes I, Minos judge of the underworld, sentence you to…”
The man’s butt hole clenched.
“love yourself!”
The man screamed, and screamed and screamed.
— Bastian Espada
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A man in his fifties lounged on a deck chair, watching his teenage son chat with a couple of girls besides a pool.
He stood up, and tip-toed over to where his son was. Before the teenager could react, the man hugged his son from behind and shoved him into the pool.
The man grinned.
The girls laughed.
The young man resurfaced. “What did you do that for!”
“You know son, I once read that there comes a day in a man’s life, where they pick up their kid, put them down, and never pick them up again. I just didn’t want that day to be today.”
— Bastian Espada
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“I might have something that could help,” the old traveling apothecary said.
He got off his cart, and signaled to his assistant to get something from one of the chests sitting on the wagon bed.
The assistant produced a small vial and handed it to his master.
The hooded customer-to-be grunted with disgust when he saw the black, dense liquid that swirled inside the small glass container.
“This elixir is made with quite a rare mushroom — Algernon’s cap.” The apothecary grinned. “ It will give you the intellectual powers you seek.”
The hooded traveler took the vial from the apothecary’s hands, and tossed him a gold coin. He then inspected it closely, unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the old man. “If this doesn’t work, I will cut you down right here.” He drank the potion in a single gulp.
A few tense seconds passed, then the man clutched his belly, grimaced, turned around and dashed towards the woods — diarrhea streaming down his pants.
“What a goddamn idiot,” the apothecary said to his assistant. “Let’s get the hell out of here before he comes back.”
— Bastian Espada
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“And who’ll buy all the stuff if people aren’t getting paid?”
“The robots can be programmed to consume.”
“So that’s your grand vision, huh? Just robots making things, robots buying things and a few lucky bastards owning the whole damn thing.”
“No, of course not. Robots can be programmed to own as well.”
— Bastian Espada
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