You can still be good at what you do without liking what you do It’s more common than you’d imagine The words reflected his face in the steamy bathroom mirror He watched until he felt cold in his nakedness and shivered reached for the towel wiped got out of the bathroom put on clothes and returned to his writing desk The blank page was ugly unlike the somewhat encouraging words on the steamy mirror He reached into the drawer pulled out the pen stuck it into his mouth clicked it Reached again into the drawer pulled out the gun pointed it at the blank page fired He wrote for the remainder of the day and the next night around the smokey hole It was finally beautiful
Mercy kill
From the hand of the writer Bogdan, we return to the path of short stories – j re crivello (editor)

by Bogdan Dragos
When the enemy strikes keep your gun close to you. That worked during the war, but the war was all those years ago and the saying didn’t apply today.
Today it was more like when depression strikes keep your ice cream at hand. He got into his slippers and went into the kitchen to grab a spoon for his ice cream. Living on the ground floor of an apartment building from the suburbs gives a man quite the sights to see at times. He peeked out the window and saw a man or child, couldn’t tell what the hell he was, only that he was very fat and he held a big silvery spoon in one hand and a pigeon in the other, and crushed the pigeon’s…
View original post 206 more words
cats are a great audience for poetry readings
the cat was utterly uninterested and downright bored with him reading mediocre poems by her side "You don't like this one?" he asked "It's about nature and birds flying and... and... How good does it have to be for you to like it? I'm only ten, I haven't lived long enough to write poems of grief and depravity like my father. But you know, I'm actually aiming to become better than him. I aim to be a more respected poet. What, you don't think I'll be able to? You think I'm just another deluded fool? I'll show you!" The cat stood and stretched raising her tail "Calm down, kid. First of all, your daddy was no poet. Just some drunk who spoke of demons as he passed out in bars. And you, you're not ten, okay? You're just ten days clean of meds." "You think I should end myself?" he asked The cat waved a paw at that. "Nah, just go on with the next poem. I'll be listening but please don't expect any praise. It's not in my nature to offer it, okay?" "But... you think I'll be a great poet one day?" The cat closed her eyes and offered no reply
another bulimic princess by Bogdan Dragos

mashed potatoes poached eggs beans and some homemade garlic sauce but no meat for the princess's sensitive stomach "I'm full," she said "No, you are not," said mother. "Eat up. Finish everything from your plate and trust me, it's been calculated. It's the right amount. Now eat up." Father agreed. Being a step-father he didn't have much of a say in this matter or any other It took the princess another twenty minutes to finish the food from her plate and then stood and went to the bathroom but it wouldn't be that simple. Mother had to go in with her And she did and both of them came out and the princess went to her room and mother started cleaning the table always just one step away from bursting into tears which gave her new husband some work with emotional support and all A princess doesn't steal but this…
View original post 164 more words
twist the blade
again she grabs a stool and places it into the corner of the room, climbs on it, assumes the lotus position and closes her eyes and covers her ears with headphones She faces the corner The voice that speaks into her headphones starts a countdown Meanwhile her father shakes his head as he watches her “You can’t be serious,” he says. “Are you meditating again to ask God to make life fair? Is that it? What happened? Was your Uber late? Internet connection slow? Heheh!” She doesn’t hear him. The voice in her headphones says, “And twist. Remember to always twist. If you only stab him it’s not enough. That’s just gonna do a little damage that can be fixed with a quick visit to the ER. You have to twist the blade. That’s when the significant damage happens. Twist as much as you can. Show no mercy. Take advantage of the fact that he will not expect this from you.”
The knife listens by Bogdan Dragos
but that handle was made for his hand hand – handle handle – hand the fingers would close around it to never let go It had to have flesh around it at all times But the blade… the blade was still naked. He couldn’t let the blade naked It wasn’t fair “So that’s why you […]
pink paint
Pink pink would be the right choice because the doctor said it will be a girl He would paint the room pink and await her coming into the world What a blessing How fortunate he felt His back and sides were tingling with happiness He came out of the store and a homeless woman came his way and he was quick to say “Sorry, no spare change right now. I spent all I had on paint.” “That’s all right,” said the woman. “I don’t want your money. Actually, I was hoping you could give me some of your paint.” “My paint?” “Yeah.” She held a tin can to him “Um, all right,” he said and opened the can of paint and poured some into the woman’s can. “But what do you need paint for?” She watched him Put the tin can to her lips and drank the paint “Plan Z,” she said He wanted to say something in protest but couldn’t even gasp when he noticed her swollen belly He walked away and got into the car and drove home and just wasn’t as eager to paint that room anymore
thick glass
three weeks and the shards were still there still scattered on the tiles of the kitchen floor that was a thick glass meant for classy strong drinks like whiskey Yeah, now that he thought about it it was whiskey she ordered. But he filled the glass with milk and said, “You know what the doctor said, mother. No more alcohol for you. Here, try this instead.” And he would strongly prefer not to remember what followed after The shards were still on the kitchen floor and the gash still on the side of his neck. Stitched now but painful nonetheless
the veins By Bogdan Dragos
As promised, Bogdan opens fire with a short storie -j re crivello (Editor) Something wasn’t quite right in this small, barren room. The man sitting across the square table, dressed in a white coat, seemed a little to calm for someone in reaching distance. ‘I could just reach for that bald head and snap the […]
a very happy neighborhood
At 22:00 she would come out looking for him Would call out his name and eventually find him by the sandbox or the slide and would dust him off a bit and take him home and feed him As she’d put him to bed she’d kiss his face, sometimes his mouth and he’d ask, “Why did you do that?” and she’d reply, “I don’t know. But did you like it?” And he’d either nod or say yes, knowing that it’ll make her smile and then she’d cuddle with him until he’d fall asleep and whisper in his ear that she always wanted to have a little boy just like him and that he was making her unbelievably happy just by existing in the same room with her She was the best neighbor he could have dreamed of She gave him all the attention his mother gave to her bottles and her guy friends and everyone was very happy