Another Year Gone

Yet another year had passed, and he was no closer to what he wanted. If anything, with another year of physical labor, a full year older, a full year more broken down, he was probably further from it than he had been in years.

But as he watched the clock tick through the last few minutes of the year, despite the setback of wasted time, he felt good. Tomorrow was another day, and it could start things afresh.

The clocks rang midnight, and he was now a 37 year old man without anyone to love.

But you never know, right?

The Most Important Pizza In History

The most important pizza in the history of human existence was a rather cheap pepperoni and mushroom affair. Ordered with an expired coupon and delivered in 29 minutes.

Certainly pizza as a concept, the entirety of pizza throughout history, it's had an arguably greater impact overall, but on an individual level, no other arrangement of flat dough, cheese, and assorted other toppings had anywhere near the influence this one had.

There should have been murals painted of it, epic fables told by great poets, remembered eternally.

But dammit my munchies were hitting super hard and it really hit the spot.

Father Dirt

Immortality seemed like a good thing to obtain, thus he stole what he needed to get it. But a few eons spent digging himself up out of the planet formed around him for his crimes against existence certainly made him reconsider his position. Still, as he finally emerged from the dirt of the outer crust, he thought it was still something he was glad to have done, he just had perspective on things like good and evil.

Which came in handy, since he was about to be revered as God by the lifeforms that had evolved on the prison’s surface.

Waiting For The Science

The mage lowered his hands, as the smoke enveloped the castle. It wasn’t really a solution to the problem. Merely prolonging the issue. The inhabitants of the castle were all in various stages of the Black And Red Plague, and there was no hope for a cure.

Now.

But the mage hoped against hope that in a few hundred years, maybe, the right combination of herbs and magic would be found, and they could be saved. He would just have to watch over the land until they arrived.

The lava that took the castle upon emergence also took the mage.

Rehashing

It shouldn’t bother me. Artists repeat themes and concepts all the time. They make the same picture in different colors and it’s a bold statement about commercialism and mass production. A director repeats the same shots, and it’s their trademark, the same theme, their auteur nature, the same exact movie, here’s another ten million, Mr. Bay.

So the fact that, one year removed, I may have made a short story on the exact same theme with the exact same title on the exact same day… It’s ok, right? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, totally.

But it still bugs me.