PendletonMane

The breakup was particularly difficult. She got to keep the apartment, my DVD collection and the dog and I got to leave. I spent a week sleeping in the car or on the couch of a buddy’s house before I found the ad in the classifieds: A basement, fully furnished with a small kitchen and private bathroom. The rent was rather cheap and the house was only a few blocks from midtown. Two days later, with my car and the single box of my clothes and belongings, I moved in. Just as the ad suggested, the place was small: a twin bed and dresser along with a tiny fridge and an outdated microwave were provided. The bathroom was more like a walk-in c

8/14/2017 "This little piggy went to the market, this little piggy went home, this little piggy had roast beef and this piggy had none." I watched in horror, strapped to the table, as the grotesque man dropped my dismembered toes into a frying pan as he sang. I was shocked awake as my wife's cold feet rubbed against my leg. Then I remember she's been dead for nearly a year. Mom and dad are out on a date night. Now, the guy that has been watching us from the old van across the street wont stop knocking at the door. 5/11/2017 While laying here in bed I can hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. I live alone. Wow, I must be tired, I thou

I worked as a courier in Southern Oregon between 1998 and 2001. I've seen a few strange sights in my time but the night I saw the Grinning Man, I'll never forget. You see, there's a nearly derelict old highway that connects Interstate 5 to Highway 101 between California and Oregon. It winds through the mountains and over a couple rivers across a three hour drive. It connects a few small towns and communities together and is an easy moneymaker for someone who runs packages through these areas that have no one else to rely on. These small towns can't put much trust into the postal service because they only shipped out mail twice a week, if they

I love my parents, it's true, but spending the utmost of my life on ranch outside of Sweetwater, Texas wasn't what I wanted with for my life. So in ‘99 I packed up my things and moved to California to work as a newspaper reporter. Every couple months my father would call, not so subtly suggesting that he hated the idea of Cousin Ted inheriting the ranch and Ma would beg for me to visit. I convinced the editor to let me run a series of articles about the difference between southern and Californian cultures. And after four years, in ‘04, I finally packed up to drive down home for a couple weeks. The drive through southern California

Prompt Challenge 1/45 Prompt: You are a bomb technician. There is 120 seconds left before the bomb you're trying to disarm goes off. Additional Rule: A 2-Minute Time Limit Red, Blue, White of the tiny yellow wire in the back? I can hear the ticker echoing louder in my head as each tick passes. I can't tell you why there are certain memories crossing through my mind: There's the beetle I ate on a dare when I was five My first kiss in fourth grade My first vanilla coke, shit that stuff is amazing. Then all the times we had epic adventures in the river behind our house. My first sexual experience, on the couch when I was fifteen. Awkward. I