Abraham Lincoln Watching Django Unchained For The First Time

The producers were expecting some strong reactions as the movie reached its climax. The violence was among the most graphic they had ever seen. But when their star guest collapsed, all the executives fell into a stunned silence.

"Is he all right?"

One of the marketing interns knelt to feel his pulse. "His heart has stopped."

No one thought to call a doctor. The cover up began immediately.

"Luckily, he was shot just a few weeks after we picked him up. History shouldn't be too affected."

Everyone nodded in agreement but, in true Hollywood fashion, it was just wishful thinking.

Fresh Start

“That didn’t work, nor this,” Nancy said striking out rows on her list.

A friend called. “How’s the dieting going?”

“What dieting?” Nancy answered.

“I’ve started,” April said. “No carbs. Only healthy eating.”

Nancy sighed. “What’s the point? You’ll be packing on pounds at Valentine’s, then Easter. Why start now?”

“It’s a new year, Nancy. I’m overweight. So are you.”

“I’d rather be happily plump.”

“You still have time before the next new year if you start planning now. Chinese New Year starts on February 8th.”

“I love Chinese. Won’t see me starving at a Dim Sum.”

“Neither will I.”From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her work has been published at: Nailpolish Stories, 50-Word Stories, 100 word story, 101 Words, Boston Literary Magazine, From the Depths (Haunted Waters Press), ShortbreadStories, SixWordMemoirs, and Espresso Stories.

Jim Bridger Watching The Revenant For The First Time

Jim Bridger stood up after the show and spat a great stream of tobacco on the ground. He would generally have aimed at the spittoon, but this theater didn't have one.

"What did you think?"

Bridger considered a few moments before answering. "It weren't anything like what really happened."

"But did it at least capture the general atmosphere?"

"No." The producers huddled nervously, expecting Bridger would say more.

"If it's all the same to you I'd like to go back now."

"But we went through all the effort to build a time machine and bring you here."

Bridger just shrugged.

The Guidance Counselor

Gerald Dansforth, the guidance counselor at Lakeview Elementary School, had already been growing increasingly disgruntled with his position in life by the time Ripley Harrington appeared in his office for what would be his 22nd meeting of the day.

"And what would you like to be when you grow up, Ripley?"

"I want to be a dragon."

It was more nonsense, and he didn't appreciate giving career advice to 7-year-olds.

"Why don't you pick something more practical, honey?"

"You mean like a dinosaur? I was thinking about it, but Mrs. Johnson said dinosaurs were extinct."

Dansforth sighed. He hated children.

Jobs For Humans

The android smiled at Brad. "Did you enjoy your work day last week?"

"Watching androids build walls? Are there any jobs where I actually dosomething?"

The android paused. "A day as a headmaster at a school?"

Later, another android greeted Brad at the school gates. "Mr Earnshaw,come this way."

"What will I be doing?"

"You'll be giving the human day teachers a motivational talk on howimportant their role is."

"Do they teach?"

"The children are busy with android led classes."

Brad was stood in front of a room of bored humans, and left to do his job.

From Guest Contributor Ross Clement

A Viking Burial

"Who does this anymore?" Joshua asked. "A viking burial -- is it even legal?"

I looked out at the lake, its opposite shoreline no longer visible under the moonless night sky. The family lake house was well secluded, shrouded in forest nearly twenty miles thick.

"It's what he would have wanted," I answered, glancing down at the lifeless figure in the wooden canoe, hands gracefully folded, with a wreath of crumpled newspaper haloing his head.

With a heavy sigh, Joshua waded the canoe out to water as I lit several matches. He smirked.

"Feels like cheating, without the bow and arrow."

From Guest Contributor Amanda S.

Death's Splendid Gifts

Death and beauty were bound by love.

Its strength bore them two children in turn.

A prophet, intuitive and quick.

A defender, strong and kind.

Content together, all offered their talents so the world could partake of their bliss.

Beauty blessed creation, allowing all to enjoy its earthly splendor.

The prophet gave insight to decipher and atone for man's errors.

The defender offered courage and strength to the masses.

Death bestowed his touch to all, releasing them from life's toil.

Under their hand, humanity found constants, forever extant as long as man lived.

All inevitable, all wondrous and all binding.

From Guest Contributor Michelle Vongkaysone

Spending A Penny Dreadful

The Fleadh Ceoil festival was at its height. Those who hadn’t arrived early were relegated to rural camp-sites.

Still, even on the outskirts of the small Kerry village the women’s toilets were dutifully labelled with the Gaelige ‘MNA.’ It wouldn’t do for traditional/folk festivals to be less than authentic.

The next generation of the attending family carnivals had finished their setting-up chores and, thankful of the break, watched with some amusement as the drunk approached with strained gait and increasing urgency until finally bursting into the ‘Ladies,’ zip down.

Screams.

"Must be a wil’ handling being dyslexic," one mused.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Christmas Lull

Apologies to all our regular readers. It's that time of year when it becomes a little bit more difficult to get everything done. Please keep sending in your stories and we'll get back to a more regular posting schedule next week. And I'll be sending out a new newsletter in January as well. In the meantime, I'd like to thank all of you for a tremendous year of stories and readers. This site would be nothing without all the great authors contributing their work.

Happy New Year!

Predestiny

It was a typical thing for him to say on a first date. “In the future, if we both find a way to travel back in time, we should agree to go back to now, right now, at precisely 8.00pm. Then we will know for certain if it is possible. Deal?”

As she answered, a loud crash startled the couple. Covering their ears from the terrifying screeches, they peered through the restaurant window to a display of smoke, sparks and flashing lights.

She held his hand tightly. Within the twisted frames of metal, lay the scorched bodies of two travelers.

From Guest Contributor JR Hampton