3 short fictions | By: Kevin C. Pearce | | Category: Short Story - Comedy Bookmark and Share

3 short fictions


I dropped by my artist friend's apartment the other day and she offered to sketch a portrait of me. My shameless vanity won over so I sat in a chair for a couple of hours while she worked her magic. When she was finished, I held the portrait in my hands. I almost had an orgasm! What a handsome portrait this was! I said a quick goodbye, completely forgot to thank her and stole a large knife from her kitchen. I ran out and made five photocopies of the portrait. Then I robbed a liquor store. I handed a copy of the portrait to the employee and told him to give it to the cops when they arrived. I then robbed another liquor store and a few gas stations, once again giving the employees my portrait and careful instructions. Hopefully my beautiful face would grace the cover of the next day's newspaper. I wanted to share this beautiful portrait with the world!


This kid at school was bragging that his mom is in jail. He said it is best not to kill the rats because their corpses attract fleas. I guess his mom told him that. I stay at my grandmother's a lot. She has never been in jail but she smokes a lot of cigarettes. The ceiling is black above her kitchen table where she smokes. I think she is sad a lot. She likes pottery. She made an ashtray. I asked her if they have ashtrays in heaven. She spanked me. I asked her why she spanked me. She started to cry. I asked her if it was better to be sad than mad. She laughed. But it was a sad kind of laugh. Then she coughed really loudly and I felt like puking. She says I like candy too much. I told her it doesn't make me cough a lot. She spanked me again. She must like spanking me or maybe she secretly likes candy better than cigarettes. I hope she still loves me. She makes funny faces when daddy's around. One time I saw daddy spit beer in her face. It was an accident. My mommy told me that it doesn't matter what other people think of you. It matters what you think of yourself. But stuff like that doesn't help if somebody tries to run you over with their car. Daddy told me that.


This morning my wife dies during childbirth. The baby made it but he's paralyzed from the neck down. He is also born blind. Then I find out that my parents were burned alive at their condominium. I actually found out by watching the news, live to air. I don't know what the chances are but the cameraman even got a close-up of the bedroom window and for a few seconds I could see them both thrashing madly around the room on fire and screaming for release. Then my sister calls and I tell her the news and she tearfully tells me she has full blown AIDS from intravenous drug use and she's been a prostitute since high school. The doctor gives her less than a month. Then I turn the television back on and I see my brother's mugshot and learn that he's been arrested for a string of lust murders dating back nine years. Turns out he killed sixteen women during that time, probably enough to make him quite famous. Maybe I'll get a book deal out of it. To deal with all this I call my psychiatrist to make an appointment but his secretary tells me that he's committed suicide by chewing off his kneecaps and then cutting his throat with the splintered bone.

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