a bif

Mike ascended the stairs, trying to decipher silhouettes through foglights.

He stood in a puddle too deep for his shoes and water seeped through to his toes.

The lights jerked backwards and the car revved forward with its doors open tumultuously blasting through tender flesh and into the cold reservoir


Smoke fills my destiny. What chaos awaits? In this inter dimensional neon grid we call human emotion we can only press forward and hope. We can only distort the grid to propel us forwards and out of peril. We can only hope to remember solutions to problems long ago forgotten.


Looking through the cracks in the door way. Wondering whether they can see me. Wondering what they’re going to do next. Doing my best to make a sound. Hoping that they’ll hear me. Shuffling my toes, trying to disturb some long forgotten artefact. Knowing that I may never rest again.


Bursts of light escape from the glowing treasure chest.

The adventurer wiped the sweat of her brow and blew the sweat from her upper lip.

“Wow what a total idiot.”

Then suddenly a 50 cal burst created an amazing brain soup

Never attribute to incompetence that which could be generosity