Always Read the Fine Print

The sun was unbearable and the dust swirled around their bodies like flies on shit.

"Is this it, grandpa?" Kevin wiped his forehead with his arm and attempted to bat some of the dust aside.

"This is it, boy," the decrepit man was dried up like the dusty the road they stood in the middle of. He pushed hard onto Kevin's shoulder for support and took a deep breath. "This is The Crossroads."

Kevin rolled his eyes.

"And we're supposed to find what here, exactly?" 

"Why the devil himself," he smiled.

"Grandpa," Kevin said. He felt sorry for the old man. He never really knew his grandfather growing up, but he knew he was successful enough and whenever the family needed help he was always there. Once Kevin's parents passed away his grandfather took more of an interest in his life, maybe making up for lost time? He wasn't sure.

"Kev, take me to the middle of the road," the old man said.

Kevin helped his grandfather hobble toward the dry, dusty crossroad. There was nothing for miles. Just them, the sun and the barren landscape.

"Sit down with me, boy. Come on, sit," the old man said. Kevin gently say the old man down before reluctantly joining him.

"Grandpa, the devil isn't going to show up. This isn't some old blues song."

"No, boy, this is real life. And besides, why do you think they wrote those songs in the first place? Everybody has help from somebody, just sometimes you gotta pay tribute," he smiled.

"So, what happens now? We just sit here and wait?"

"That's right."

"For how long?"

The old man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Until I die."

Fortunately, or unfortunately, that didn't take long.

 Kevin got over his distaste for the dust and plopped down on his back in the middle of the old road and wound up drifting off. His grandfather's body slapping against the dirt woke him up. Kevin's eyes shot open and sat up and saw his grandfather's lifeless body.

"Grandpa?" Kevin shook the old man.

Nothing.

"Grandpa, wake up," he yelled.

Nothing.

"Grandpa...," Kevin's eyes got blurry. He raised his head to the sky and saw the sun setting off the in the distance, but still saw the sun high in the sky, darker than before.

"What the...," Kevin stood up and realized the dust was gone. Under the dark sun the sky was crystal clear. He could clearly see what appeared to be other planets, galaxies, but none he recognized from school or anywhere else. Fear struck him like a cold wind. Kevin whipped around, trying to get his bearings. The old trees that dotted the previously dotted the landscape where gone. Everything in all directions was flat and it was impossible to tell where it end. He scanned the landscape for something anything, when he saw a flicker on the horizon.

"What is that?"

A black dot appeared miles away. It appeared to "jump" closer with every breath Kevin took. Eventually, the black dot took form. A tall, perfectly manicured man was walking toward him barefoot, wearing an equally manicured black suit. Kevin held his breath, and in an instant the man traveled 100 yards. Kevin fell back onto his butt in the sand. The man was standing right over him, his face emotionless. He spoke in a calm, overly articulated tone.

"You must be Kevin," he said.

"Ye-yes, sir," Kevin said.

"Don't call me sir. Makes me sound like my father," he smirked.

The man extended a hand. Kevin reluctantly took it. The man's hand was strong, his grip firm. He lifted Kevin to his feet with inhuman ease. Kevin glanced at his hand and noticed the man's hand left a slight imprint in his own. He nursed it slightly and stepped away.

"What do you want?"

"What's mine," the man said. He leaned down and kissed the old man on the forehead. "Isn't that right, John?"John's eyes popped open and he took a deep breath. He was alive.

"Grandpa?"

The man helped John to his feet and the two embraced like old friends.

"Grandpa, what's going on?" Kevin asked.

"I told you, boy. Gotta pay tribute," John said.

"Tribute? What the hell are you talking about?"

The man in black interrupted John before he could explain. "John, your grandfather, made a deal with me 65 years ago. In exchange for success I get his soul. Simple contract, simple terms."

"What? No. That's not fair," Kevin said. "This isn't right."

"Kevin, it's fine," John said. "I always knew this time would come, boy."

"Are you insane? You're about to hand your soul over to the Devil! The Devil! I won't let you do that," Kevin said, stepped in front of his grandfather. "You can't have him."

"I can. And I will," the man in black's eyes narrowed and his face became angry. "Unless, of course you have a counter offer?"

"No offer! He's the only family I have; you can't take him," Kevin cried.

"Kevin, boy. It's okay," John said.

"No, it's not. You're all I have left. What am I supposed to do?"

Kevin was tears now. John embraced him.

"I know I wasn't there for most of your life, boy, and I'm sorry for that. But having you in these last moments has meant the world to me," John said.

"Grandpa, you can't..." 

The man in black watched without reacting. Kevin made eye contact with him and he broke the embrace.

"You want a counter offer, right?" Kevin said. "Take my soul instead."

"Kevin you can't--" 

"No! This way we can catch up and finally have the relationship we both wanted. And when I die... well...," he motioned toward the man in black. The man in black smiled and extended his hand.

"Kevin, I can't let you do this," John said. Kevin looked at his grandfather and smiled. He pushed past him and grasped the man's hand. A searing pain shot through his entire body, like being dipped in fire. Kevin fell to the ground in agony.

"It's a deal, then," the man said. He turned to John and clapped. "I"m impressed, John. Rarely does a mortal fulfill his end of the deal."

Kevin was shocked. He looked down at his hand and saw the imprint start to fade.

"Grandpa?" Kevin lurched at the pain in his stomach. He doubled over and fell to the ground. He could feel his body changing. His hands shriveled, his back hurt. His breathing became labored and felt tired, he felt old. He looked up at his grandfather and watched as the old hunched over man straightened upward. He was getting younger. In mere moments he went from a dying man in his 90s to a strong young man in his 20s.

"Grandpa, why?" Kevin spoke in a harsh, tired tone. John smiled and leaned over to Kevin.

"Why? Because I don't wanna die, boy. Hell, I never did. But you, you were so willingly to die. You're a stronger soul than me, boy. And he knew it. Which is why I brought you here."

John stretched his new legs and beat his chest triumphantly.

"I thought you loved me," Kevin asked.

"Kevin, your grandfather made a deal with the Devil. Why would you ever think he could love anyone other than himself?" The man in black said.

Kevin wept on the ground. Through blurry eyes he could see his grandfather smile.

"Thank you, boy."

John nodded to the man in black and started to walk away. With renewed vigor he walked briskly away from his grandson and the man in black. The dust started to kick back up, and he could see the stars. He turned back one last time and watched the dust devour them. And just like that they were gone. John took a moment to mourn his grandson, then back up at the stars and the full moon. He took a deep breath, the best breath he'd had in over 50 years.

"Beautiful night for a stroll."

Nothing Happens

"James. James. James? James!"
James stirred from his dream and stretched his arms out wide like a cat. He blinked twice before addressing her.
"Yes, Karen?"
"You're sleeping again."
"Correction: was sleeping."
"Ugh. Whatever. I told you not to take a nap; we have too many things to do today," she said.
"What could we possibly have to do today that's so important I can't sleep for an hour?"
"For starters, my parents are coming over for dinner tonight and we haven't even cleaned up the house yet."
James scanned the living room. Perfect. Every table in it's nook, every pillow on its couch. Even by higher standards this house would be considered nothing short of divine. And to top it off a shaft of light was coming in from the eastern window and you could see all the fuzzies dancing in the sun.
"The house looks fine, honey. Just relax. Besides, your parents have been here a hundred times and no matter what you do your mom is still going to think we should've bought a bigger house," he said. "You know, for all those grandchildren she wants."
"Don't remind me," she said. Karen brushed some hair out of her face and plopped down on the couch next to James. "You're right. We should just sleep here all day."
"Yeah?"
Karen frowned and ran her fingers through his hair.
"No," she said. "Now get up."
Karen stood up from the couch and made her way into the kitchen. James slowly rose from his spot and popped his neck. "How long do you think they'll stay this time?" he said.
"A couple hours at most," she said from the other room.
"A couple of hours? So I should make up the guest room, then?"
Karen peeked her head from around the corner: "Yes."
"Yep," James said. "Yep, yep."

Star Crossed

They laid out there on the hood of the car like they were teenagers.

"When was the last time you did this?" he asked.

"Must've been years and years ago," she said. "It's nice, though. We should do this more often."

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe next time bring some other people with us? Make it a party."

She was silent for a moment.

"Or no?" he said.

She snuggled up to him and pointed up into the twinkling abyss. "Look at that one. Is that Orion?"

"No, Orion only shows up during the winter. I'm not sure what that is. Probably aliens."

"Probably." She smiled. He loved it when she smiled.

"Can I ask you a question? I mean, in addition to this one? And that one-- you know what I mean," he said. He sat up a little and rested on his elbow.

"Of course. You know you can ask me anything," she said.

"Are we--"

"Yeah," she said. She shifted and mimicked the way he was laying. He smiled.

"So, that means I can..."

She rested her hand on his cheek. "Won't know until you try." She looked nervous. He was nervous.

Like butterflies breakdancing in his tummy.

He leaned in and brushed her lips with his.

"Yeah..." he said.

They kissed and it was like a thousand tiny lightbulbs came on for the first time. After an eternity of bliss they broke apart and she laid her head on his chest.

"You're better at that than I thought you would be," she said.

"Oh really? Because you were just as terrible as I imagined you would be. Like kissing my mother."

"You kiss your mother like that?"

"Shut up," he laughed and kissed her on the top of her head.

"It's so beautiful," she said and pointed up toward the sky again. He ran his fingers through her hair and smiled.

"Absolutely gorgeous."

Ritualistic Abuse, or I Wrote This in 20 Minutes

The room was a shrine to death. The walls were adorned with various animals, pictures of successful hunts, et cetera. Michael raised an eyebrow, “Oh, wow. So, uh, you like to hunt, huh?”
“Most honest profession there is,” Mr. Thomas shot back, without turning to Michael. Mr. Thomas eventually settled down into his (definitely real) leather chair and beckoned to Michael with a soft wave.
“Come, sit,” He instructed. Michael just nodded and sat on the only other available seat-- a footstool-- just adjacent the chair.
“Do you drink? Don’t answer that. Of course you don’t drink,” Mr. Thomas eyed the obviously uncomfortable Michael for a moment and smirked.
“Have a drink.”
“No, I’m okay.”
“I insist,” Mr. Thomas said, popping out his chair. He headed toward the other side of the room and behind a cavernous bar. He ran his hand across the old oak bar, like he was sliding his hand down a woman’s back.
“Really, Mr. Thomas, I don’t want anything.”
“Nonsense,” the man said. He turned away toward the endless bottles on the wall and carefully ran his finger over multiple bottles before snatching an old scotch. “You’re a man, right?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re a man. You’re 18. You can die for your country, so you can have a drink. Come over here,” he commanded.
Michael meekly made his way over to the bar and sat on one of the stools-- was it zebra?
“That’s genuine zebra fur right there.”
“Oh, well, they’re very nice,” Michael smiled.
The man pulled two glasses from under the bar and smacked them on the oak, “They’re horseshit is what they,” He said, pouring the scotch. “Cost me two thousand bucks,” he murmured.
Mr. Thomas slid one glass toward Michael.
“Drink.”
The man weakly clinked Michael’s glass and just as quickly as it was poured it was gone.
“Smooth going down, but it gets ya right there at the end,” he said. “A lot like my first marriage.” Michael smiled again.
Michael put his nose to the glass and took a whiff. He began coughing, which caused the man to start to laugh. “Easy there, son. You’re supposed to drink it, not inhale it.”
Michael, reeling from the scotch decided to end it quickly. He held the glass to his lips, tipped it back, and gulped.
Michael could barely hear Mr. Thomas clapped over the searing heat in his head.
“Now that we’ve loosened up a bit,” the man said. “Let’s get down to business.” Mr. Thomas slapped both hands down on the old oak bar and smiled.
“Why should I let you date my daughter?”

Title Goes Here

"Melissa?"
"Yes, James."
Melissa wore a green dress.
"Lovely dress."
"Oh! Thank you."
She paused.
"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" James asked.
"Um, I don't know yet," she said, nervously.
James wore a blue polo shirt with blue jeans.
"I mean, yes. Your shirt is a lovely shade of blue and those jeans are absolutely perfect for you."
"Thank you very much. I got them on sale just the other day," James said.
In fact, James did not get those clothes on sale-- he paid full price.
"I mean, I paid full price. I certainly wish they were on sale for the money I spent on them," he said, annoyed.
He spent $120 total.
"What? Can I even afford that?"
He could.
"Oh, good," James smiled.
"Well, uh, it all looks great on you," Melissa said, lying through her teeth.
"No, I really think you look sharp," she retorted, but still lying.
"..."
"..."
The two were hungry so they decided to order a meal at the restaurant they were sitting in. Melissa's stomach grumbled.
"Boy, am I hungry," she said.
"Yeah, me... too?" James asked.
James wasn't hungry.
"Oh. I guess I'll just order a beer then," he said.
This particular placed didn't serve alcohol, so James would just have to order a soda. Or water.
"Well, water will have to do, then."
The waiter approached the couple and asked for their order.
"Hello and welcome to...," he paused.
There was a long silence between the three of them.
Denny's.
"Denny's. Welcome to Denny's," the waiter said. "We have a wonderful menu full of, um, whatever it is that you want to eat today. Which would be?"
"I'll have the steak?" Melissa said.
But they were out.
"No. The chicken, please," she said.
"I'm not eating," James said.
The waiter bowed and left the two alone.  James had been pinning over Melissa for months and now was his chance to express his true feelings to her.
"Melissa. You are a really great person and I have really strong feelings for you," James said.
"James. You are so swee--"
Melissa hated James.
"Asshole! You are just the absolute worst," she yelled. "This date is over!" Melissa got up from the table to leave, but the date wasn't over so she sat back down.
"When I say it's over! Which is later on," she said.
The waiter returned with the chicken and set it on the table.
"Here you are--"
He left without saying a word.
"Oh, goodbye," he said, apparently not able to follow instructions.
Melissa ate her chicken quickly because of how hungry she was. Food was all over her face and some even landed on the table.
"Geez, Melissa, slow down," James said.
"I really want to, but..." she paused, cramming more food into her mouth. What a pig.
James no longer loved her after seeing her pig out like a little fatty.
"Melissa," he said, standing up from the table. "This date is over and I don't love you anymore."
Fatty.
"Um, fatty."
James left in a huff.
"Oh, uh, bye. Sorry! It was nice meeting you, Melissa," he said.
But it wasn't nice. In fact he pledged to never see her again.
Melissa sat there, bloated and fat and alone.
"oh come on," she said.

Sunshine

It'd been raining solid for the last several days. The once dry, cracked ground was now swollen with water.  I sat on my porch just watching the ebb and flow of the rain, dictated by the wind. Despite the rain and the wind, though, it was nice outside. Wasn't too hot, wasn't too cold. The kind of day you'd have right when spring started, or the onset of autumn. I'm not a coffee kind of person, but I keep some in the cabinet for days like this because it just... feels right.
"Enjoying the view?" Rachel asked. She smiled and sat across me on the porch. She held up a cup, " grabbed some coffee. Hope that's cool."
"Yeah," I said.
"So, I didn't see you at work today and Jeff said you didn't call in."
"Yeah," I said.
She looked at me blankly, waiting for a better answer, or more of an answer-- I don't know.
"That's it? Just 'yeah'," she said.
"Yeah," I thought. "No," I said.
She gently set her cup down on the ledge and pursed her lips in that way everyone does before they get mad. "What the fuck? Everyone thought you were hurt-- or worse! And all you can say is 'yeah' and 'no'? What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing," I said. I looked at her calmly and meant it. There was absolutely nothing wrong with me.
The wind picked up.
"I think I might move my car into the garage. It's getting crazy out there," I said.
"What?"
"Look, Rachel. Sometimes there isn't something wrong. Sometimes there isn't a reason, and sometimes we do things just because we haven't before, or because we want to-- or don't want to. I didn't go into work today for no other reason than I didn't go into work today," I said.
"Bullshit," she smirked. She grabbed her coffee and took another sip, her mind trying to work me out.
The rain picked up.
"I love you," I said.
It was like she was struck by lightning. Or hit by a car. Or paralyzed through some other violent means that escapes me.
"What?"
I could hear her heart beating from her, or was that my own? "I said I love you."
"Why did you say that?"
"Because sometimes we do things just because we haven't before, or because we want to--"
"Or don't want to..." she said.
The rain stopped.

Monkey

"Mmm," The Monkey thought. "This is one good piece of fruit."
"Margaret? Honey?"
"Yes, dear?" Margaret said from the kitchen. She appeared in the doorway dressed simply in a red apron. She beamed at Monkey. "You're so cute."
"What?" Monkey said, a little bit of fruit hanging from his chin. "What'd I do?"
Margaret approached Monkey, wiped his face clean with a dish rag she had tucked in her apron, and kissed him gently on the check. "You always get food on your face."
"Oh! Sorry," Monkey said.
"What did you need?"
"Where did you get this fruit? It's delicious!"
"From the market, like always," Margaret said. She'd already started back into the kitchen to start on dinner. "I was thinking of doing chicken tonight? Is that okay?"
"Yeah, that sounds great," He said. " What time will it be ready?"
"I was thinking... 8 o'clock?"
"Perfect. Just in time for The Big Bang Theory," He said, excitedly.
Margaret peeked her head from around the corner. "Why do you like that show?"
"What do you mean?"
"I just don't get it. It's nothing but stereotypes and there's a laugh track."
"I don't know. After a hard day at work I guess I just want something mindless, you know?"
"I suppose," Margaret said. "Just seems like all TV is trash nowaways. You should read a book instead."
Monkey shrugged and finished his fruit. After cleaning up he made his way into the living room. Margaret's cell phone beeped, letting her know she received a text message.
"Hey, you got a--" Monkey stopped when he saw the screen. "Mitch? I didn't know they still talked."
Margaret peeked her out from the kitchen again, "You say something?"
"Oh, no, honey. Nothing," Monkey said. He smiled, she smiled and she resumed preparing dinner.
"This doesn't make sense, "Monkey thought. "She hasn't talked to him in years. Why would he..." His blood ran cold.
Mitch was an old flame and even after their relationship ended he never stopped pursuing Margaret. There was even a time when he thought they were having an affair. "Shake it off. This is stupid," his brain told him. But his finger's were already swiping the screen, his gut telling him something different.

"Margie, are we still on for tonight? I haven't heard from you in a couple of days," The text read.
His fingers were already responding, his brain screaming in protest. "Of course.... where?" He texted back.
"Margaret. Bill from the office just called me and said I left some things up there. I'm going to go grab it, okay? Shouldn't take more than an hour," he called out.
"Oh okay. Well, be back by 8, okay?"
Monkey walked into the kitchen and saw his wife giving Mitch a blowjob. She threw her head back, staring at Monkey. "He's so much bigger than you, "she laughed.
"Honey?" Are you okay?" Margaret said. He snapped back to reality, shook his head and smiled. "I'm fine."
"Be careful, okay? I love you," she said.
"I love you too." He said, blankly.
He smiled and walked back into the living room to gather his things. He glanced back at her phone and noticed there was another text. Monkey stared at the screen for a moment before taking note of Mitch's location.
"I can't wait to see you!" the text read.
Monkey deleted the texts from Margaret's phone and grabbed his keys.
"Can't wait to see you, either."