Flash fiction AI can't imitate.
“Daddy, where do people go after they die?”
“It depends sweetie.”
“On what?”
“Well, if people deserve to be rewarded, they go to heaven. If they deserve to be punished, they go to hell, and if they don't deserve to exist, they come here and hide.”
— Bastian Espada
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“May I have the time?”
“Sure,” the man said, then vanished.
— Bastian Espada
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“You don't have to go home but you can't stay here.”
The last remaining patron threw the bartender a dirty look. He made his way to the exit and pressed the big red button. The blast doors opened, he jumped into the vacuum of space.
— Bastian Espada
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“Welcome to earth's favorite talk show! I'm your host Orion Vega and tonight we have to amazing guests coming straight from the depths of time. Please put your hands together fooorrr... Lucy the Australopithecus and Genghis Khan!
The audience cheered.
Two portals opened in front of the couch situated next to the host's desk. The two guests emerged.
“Welcome! It's great having you here.” Orion motioned for them to take a seat. “Please.”
The guests ignored him —choosing to maintain direct eye contact among themselves.
They began circling each other.
Lucy threw a punch, Genghis Khan caught it with the palm of his hand.
“I see your Kung Fu is as weak as ever,” he said.
Lucy grunted.
The Khan smirked.
Orion hid behind his desk.
The battle was on.
— Bastian Espada
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“Your honor, members of the jury, please consider the following.” The lawyer took to the floor. “ We got 'evidence' and 'witnesses' and 'oaths' and all this fanfare. But allow me to ask you, is this really the best way to get to the bottom of this? Aren't we just guessing at the end of the day? Might there be a better way of resolving case like this? I would argue, there is. And if it pleases you all, I would very much like to demonstrate.”
The judge took measure of the lawyer, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine. I'll allow it. Go ahead, do your thing.”
The lawyer nodded in gratitude. From his suitcase he produced a vial of sheep's blood and a box filled with ashes of unknown provenance —both of which he proceeded to dump on the wooden floor. With this mixture he drew a large circle, and a number of arcane symbols within it.
He began chanting. The windows blew open, the lights flickered. The ethereal figure of a man emerged from the circle.
“Tell us! Who killed yo—”
No one saw the people present at the courthouse ever again.
— Bastian Espada
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“Why do birds suddenly appear every time you're near? Why do stars fall down from the sky every time you walk by? Martin, please.” She reached out and held his hand in hers'. “I need to understand.”
The man pursed his lips then jerked his arm — releasing himself from the woman's gentle grasp. “Fine! You want the truth? Here's the truth.” He took a deep breath. “ Ten years ago I mistook a radioactive sunflower seed for a suppository. It — it changed me.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Darling, I'm Atomic Seed-Man.”
“The woman gasped. “You mean THE Atomic Seed-Man?” The woman took a step back. “All this time, I've been watching the news on the television, reading the newspaper. To think it was you all along, I had no ide—”
A star fell on the woman's head and knocked her out cold.
— Bastian Espada
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“We made a vow goddammit! We would be together until death did us apart.”
“Well then. There's only one thing to do, isn't there?” the sobbing woman said.
The man nodded in solemn agreement.
Three hours later, Death exited the man's room. Tired and dehydrated, Death reclined against the wall, drank a bit of water, fixed its cloak, then proceeded to the woman's chamber.
— Bastian Espada
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“I'm going to be a real boy!” Pinocchio said.
Bloody Wiz, the leader of The Real Boys, scratched his chin. “I'll be the judge of that.” He nodded to one of his bodyguards, who proceeded to pull out a .44 magnum, which he handed — grip first— to Pinocchio.
The puppet turned towards the back wall, and took aim.
“You don't have to do this. Please...” Geppetto said. “You're already a real boy inside!”
Pinocchio closed his eyes, a shot rang through the abandoned warehouse.
— Bastian Espada
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In the beginning, there was nothing. The great father-horse defecated, and from his manure the land came to be. He spat onto the ground, and created the seas. He urinated on the grasslands and the trees arose. Lastly, he vomited corn onto the world and the first people were born.
The descendants from those first vomit-people still exist today, they clap at the end of movies, finance political campaigns and pass others on the right.
— Bastian Espada
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“I'm a troubadour! I sing and dance wherever I go! Whatever your style, I'll make you smile. Do not fear— I'll bring you cheer. I promise my song will warm your heart. Tales of old and tales of time. Perk your ears and lift your veils! I'm a troubadour, yes sir I am!”
“Sir, this a Tibetan monastery. Now I don't know why you're here, why you felt the need to make this trek or why you think it's a good idea to stand here singing this fucking song, but you either shut up or I'll personally help the monks throw you off a cliff.”
— Bastian Espada
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