I Feel Threatened

May 4, 2017

Editor’s note: This is probably a work of fiction. In any case, none of us here at Daisybrain condone violence or look down upon people for their beliefs. We thought it import to publish this story because we found it in a capsule and it appears to be a work of historical fiction written in the future.

Ever since the Government mandated that all citizens carry guns, Eric enthusiastically complied. For as long as he could remember, at least the last 70 years, he had been a disciple of nonviolence. He had marched in countless peace demonstrations, protesting each generation’s pointless war, and was an active member of the Resistance. But, when the Lower House of Trump passed the mandatory carry law, something finally snapped.

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Diner

March 25, 2015

There is a pair of delicate purple tulips, with just a few inches of stem, in a small glass tea cup with a handle. The cup is filled about one third with water, leaving no doubt as to the authenticity of the flowers. At least the flowers are real. The same can’t be said for the slice of Boston creme pie on my plate. The diner was honest enough to spell it as “creme” since it obviously has no real cream in it. It is quite a beautiful imitation of a dessert. I guess that’s why I got a slice, after seeing its radiant beauty in the display case. But I wouldn’t dare destroy this work of art with a fork. I know that it would taste like artificially sweetened coagulated grease. And besides, just look at it – it’s a perfect, idealized replica of a real Boston cream pie.

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The Great Superman Parachute Mystery

March 16, 2015

My house was filled with giant spiders, the size of horses. I was having the same dream again, about the house I lived in between the ages of five and eight. I figured that spiders represented decay, or death, and now that I was about to turn 30, perhaps my subconscious was mulling over the end of my youth. It was true, much as I tried to stretch out my adolescence, when you’re in your thirties, it’s harder to pass yourself off as a punk rock rebel kid.

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Lizbeth

January 26, 2015

It was freaking cold outside! Minus 17. Windchill something like minus 35. Unfortunately, the only table available at Eckerman’s café that afternoon was right in the path of the front door. Each time anyone entered or left, I braced myself for the spray of frigid air that would rush directly to my legs, find its way between my wool socks, my old, torn up long johns, and my four decades out of style brown cords, directly to my knees, where it would cling… like crazed owls, digging their icy talons into my flesh.

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The Inside Me

January 8, 2015

One day, not too long ago, I sneezed too hard an my body turned completely inside out. My organs, unprotected by skin and muscle, felt the cold outside air like thousands of icy needles. All was dark as I peered inward. Enough light entered through my throat and interstitial crevices that I could make out some details in my new interior. My skin was on the inside, all shriveled up. So was my hair. So, I thought, this had been the exterior that I had been showing to people. Nothing much to look at now, was it?

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Sabina is Gone

December 30, 2014

Lilly knew she would have to go after her friend Sabina in the cave. The rocks under Lilly’s bare feet were sharp. Igneous rocks, thought Lilly, realizing that she had actually learned something in science this year. She walked gingerly toward the large, shadowy entrance, trying not to cut her feet. Why hadn’t Sabina stayed out of the cave? Lilly distinctly told her to stay away, that the creatures were after her, not Sabina. Lilly thought about how Sabina was constantly combing her long, blond hair, and how it was probably a tangled mess now with Sabina lost in a frightening, dark cave.

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Darall’s Story

December 11, 2014

Darall stood alone in the crowd, listening to the political speech. The speech was sprinkled with words that he had heard before but whose meaning he couldn’t quite place his finger on. Words like “ineffable.”

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