Wake Up


A very creative lonely depressed guy meets a girl who wakes up his creativity. They have fun and really begin to experience life together. In the end he finds out she was never even real, only a figment of his imagination.

In the desert your soul can dry out with the environment. Your motivation to do anything evaporates with the sprinkler water that is supposed to be keeping your grass green. Equa, Colorado was like that. In the south western corner of Colorado that might as well be Arizona. Just as bad as the 100 plus degrees, was the dry air.


The PARADOXIUM (1993, 94 or 95?)

I knew Samus and I was familiar with her explorations for the Metroid larva. Samus is retired now and her equipment obsolete. She completed her task and the energy from the Metroid is being widely used. But its power is running lower all the time. That is why I, JAXUS, was sent to explore the universe for more energy.

Beings throughout the universe all agreed that  Praxton3 would be the most abundant in energy if only they could get to it.

It was a good thing I had modern equipment because the upper atmosphere on Praxton3 was lethal. It would have been nice to explore the roughly 2 times as large as Earth planet in my ship. If only I had known of the Graunchtoid beast that ate half my ship before being electrocuted by my only power supply.

I had this huge planet to single handedly explore for energy – on foot.

“Well, I can’t say that my robotic armor didn’t help.”

The continent I had landed on was called Norameethus. The place was known for its quicksand pits that had taken many lives.

But I always remember the country Qubaclaria in Norameethus because that’s where I met Aravis…

I was searching through a dense forest of Clanth trees. I heard a scream. I ran to where it was and saw a girl up to her neck in quicksand. I quickly pulled her out.

“Who are you?” she said catching her breath.

“Uh, sorry,” I said taking off my helmet. “My name’s Jaxus from the planet Valstourias – who’re you?”

“My name’s Aravis, I’m from the city Vastron,”

“What are you doing out here?”

“I’m, I’m running from the Gradians, they’ve taken my father and they’re holding him hostage at the center of Praxton3!” She explained as she dusted the sand off her skirt.

“What, is your father the king or something?”

“Yes, of Qubaclaria,” she said a little dismayed. Then I noticed the small crown in her white blonde hair.

“I should have known, you’re beautiful enough to be a princess!” I commented trying to excuse myself. I looked down and noticed she was wearing bright white tennis shoes. “I didn’t know princesses wore tennis shoes.”

She dusted the sand off her top (which was nothing more than a sport-bra) “Well anyone will wear sneakers when running from Gradians.”

“If you wore socks you could probably run faster,” I suggested.

“Listen, unless you’re going to help me out with all that robotic equipment, then scram!”

“I tell ya what, I’ll help you get your father back and you can help me find this planet’s energy source, besides, why wouldn’t I help the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen?”

“Ya know, you might be kinda cute yourself if only you’d take off that stuff.”

“I can’t, I mean, I shouldn’t becau-”

“Why not, I don’t have armor on,”

“The beings on this planet know of the “The Warrior from Valstourias” and the minute I take this stuff off they’ll attack me!”

“Are you a Christian?”

“Of course I am! Everyone on Valstourious is a Christian!”

“Then you shouldn’t worry about dying!”

“I still have the rest of my life to serve God in a way that can’t be done in heaven.” Suddenly a giant Burlion jumped out of the Clanth trees and struck me with a paralyzing ray on my uncovered head. I lay there motionless as it aimed at Aravis. I tried to yell “NO!” but the words would not come.

Then, right before my eyes, a colorful beam came from Aravis’ eyes and blasted the creature into oblivion.

My paralysis wore off and I mumbled “Explain that!”

“I’m originally from the planet Zora. By coming to Praxton3 special powers were released,” She tried to help me up, but with my suit I was too heavy.

Untitled Karate Kids story 3-25-94


Screen Shot 2017-04-03 at 4.27.13 PM.png

Suddenly, shattering the silence, a giant full sized Chevy truck blasted through the wall of John, Daniel and Ricky’s bedroom waking them up.

“What the-?” Ricky yelled diving for cover. Once the Chevy settled itself in the middle of their room, the engine was cut off and the headlights went off. An older black man jumped out of the truck which had tires the heighth of a regular truck.

The man seemed to be in a hurry, “Daniel, John, Ricky?” he asked. “It’s me, George.”

“George?! It’s midnight for goodness sake!” John spoke for the three.

“These guys are after me for the truck, I want you guys to take [it] and get the heck outta here!” George took off running down the street. Out of nowhere, a black sedan came down the street. Some guys inside shot bullets all over the place and killed George.

“No!” John saw what happened.

“Get in guys!” Daniel jumped into the driver’s seat and started the truck. He was backing out when John and Ricky climbed in. The guys in the sedan were shooting up the truck. The three noticed the bullets were not penetrating the truck. Daniel had the truck floored as he pulled sharply into an alley.

“No! It’s a dead end!” Ricky shouted. Daniel whipped the truck around so he was facing the car. The headlights about blinded him.

“Here we go guys!” Daniel gassed it and ran over the car. Near by neighbors turned on their lights. About ten feet behind the car, Daniel stopped. The three got out and snuck up on the totally wrecked sedan which sat silently in the middle of the alley now.

They looked inside and saw all the guys dead.

“Come on, let’s go home and call the police,” Ricky went to the truck and got into the driver’s seat.

“This is a powerful truck!” commented John as they parked in the driveway. The three were shocked at the abrupt happenings.

The three went into their house that they had lived in by themselves for most of their lives.

“Ricky called the police remembering that a similar incident had got their parents killed. They were all shaking horribly. Before Ricky could finish the phone call a car parked in their front lawn. Nine men got out and entered the house.

“Hey, I gotta go!” Ricky hung up the phone.

“We want your truck and we’ll leave you alone!” All nine were very large men. Ricky, John and Daniel could care less about the truck but they were going to protect it for George, a good friend.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let you have it!” Daniel stepped forward.

“Oh yeah? Well we’ll just have to change your mind

Thoughts on Heaven

We will be everything we were meant to be

If it were physically comprehendible it would be like There will be a luscious and untainted earth

There will be no death; everything will be fully alive

Humans in perfect physical health will be able to use their muscles and minds to the full extent

There will be no suffering

There will be no pain

There will be no fear

Everyone will love everyone perfectly

Perfect fulfillment will be found in communion with the Creator

There will be no more loneliness, no more hatred

Every one will be happy because the reasons to be sad or mad will be eliminated

We will run and not get tired

People will laugh often because they will have so much joy

No one will fight because each person will be content with their own relationship with the Creator

Everyone we ever knew will be reunited once and for all

The Darkest Night

(2005, 06, or 07?)

Ray looked around the shipping and receiving room to try and rest his eyes from the monotonous task that was his job. The fluorescent lights gave the needed light but nevertheless left the place dark looking. Ray always wondered why this room couldn’t have any windows and why it seemed to be unheated all the time. He thought about lodging a complaint with his supervisor, Bill, but decided not to because Bill was a jerk and also because he knew Bill would ignore his request on the count of Ray being the only person that worked in that room, even that wing of the building.

This winter seemed colder than ever – Ray never even removed his winter coat during the day. His fingers were numb as he passed papers from his inbox, stamped them and stacked them in the outbox. Ten hours a day, 6 days a week. His thoughts seemed to go in circles. He kept thinking of last year – when he had an office job in a nice building with friendly co-workers. That was before his parents were killed when Ray rolled their SUV. It was a patch of black ice – no one could have seen it. Yet Ray continued to blame himself.

Shortly after, as if a slap in the face, he was fired from Omnicore. He was falsely accused of stealing from the company. Everyone he knew worked there and so losing his job meant losing his friends too.

Losing his job at Omnicore also meant finding a cheaper place to live. So he bade his 2 roommates farewell and found the only place he could afford with the job at Burtec.

The new apartment was a dump. It was in the bad part of town right next to the train tracks. It was old and the landlord barely paid attention to it.

The Dominator


Desmond used his colorful imagination to illustrate his feelings from childhood. When he gets into his teens he struggles with depression and creates a being to illustrate his pain. He calls the being The Dominator and the more he imagines it, the more real it becomes. His only escape from the pain he feels is another creation of his imagination, the Dark Forest.


The Dominator was born January 14, 1996 amidst my on going friendship after breaking up with my first girlfriend. I had been imagining something prior and putting it together with the song “Dominator” by Human Resource. The first writing on the 14th went as follows:

“There is this sinking feeling , seemingly inescapable. In my mind I have given it a tangible form. It changes and morphs depending on the situation but is mostly a large very powerful and strong black male called the Dominator. When I think of HER or see HER or talk to HER the Dominator appears. With particularly large fists he continues to bash in my face until he decides to take on the form of a large chunk of square iron which swings out of the sky nailing me squarely on the forehead. As my skull splits I fly backward. This goes on and on the things that keep me going are #1 JESUS and #2 times like tonight when I gave Dominator a powerful upper cut in the jaw…”

Various instances in my journal later on were such:

“The Dominator is a dark cloud”

“11-10-99 The Dominator. The Dominator is my tormenter – whether a demon or the devil himself I don’t know. He is a shadow, I can’t tell if he is a figment of my imagination or if he is real. He takes on any shape and form he can use best to torture me. He laughs at my stupidity. He calls me a retard and tries to get me to hurt myself mentally and physically.  Sometimes he turns into a ball of iron spikes spinning at high speed and then begins to mangle my flesh-sometimes he makes me want to smoke. Sometimes he has been a giant  boxing glove pulverizing my face or a sledge hammer. Sound weird? Well, it all coincides with how I’m feeling emotionally. I blame all my pain on him. He is incredibly powerful and unstoppable-EXCEPT when I am happy.  When I have friends and someone to talk to, when I am laughing, and when I am talking to God, he is defeated. Usually in his rage he strikes back at me and I tumble back into his grasp. This is the roller coaster. Most of the time I can’t figure out why I am so happy  one night and  completely depressed the next morning. For example:Last night Kristi called to ask how I was. This makes me extremely happy-BUT! When I answered the phone she said “Is this Wes?” At this point the Dominator is a black poisenous snake. He is frocing his way into me by ripping through my stomach. A thought; Did she call to talk to Wes and was too scared to ask for him b/c she knows about my jealousy problem? The Dominator thus diffuses and enters my blood stream. It is painful. [This period’s sound track is Level-Devil’s Advocate]

12-15-00 “Everyone has sorrows & pain-but do they have the Dominator? Everyone feels sorry for themselves sometimes but does the Dominator crush their insides like a garbage truck? The Dominator has torn me to small bleeding chunks of flesh yet I only survive to prolong the torture.”

6-14-01 “Sweet Dominator, I’m indebted to you for choosing me to be the one to subdue” (Written to the tune of Refractor by Circle of Dust)


> In the corner of the room something suspicious caught his eye. At first it seemed to be the shadow of his night stand but then he did a double take when his mind suddenly told him there was something there. Beginning to shake he realized it was a pile of dirty clothes. And then within a second of that thought he knew he had not placed any clothes there…certainly not a pile that large. His heart began to race as he approached  it much like one would approach a cockroach or large spider they just discovered. What IS it? he thought.  He came within 3 feet of it, his mind running through a million scenarios, trying to figure out what it was but rejecting every possibility. Then it the mass moved and to his horror it was much like the shape of a man who was unfolding from an impossible crouched position. Desmond stepped back his mind reeling, still trying to put the puzzle together. There were so many shadows and his adrenaline was making it hard to think, to see. The way one’s eyes continue to see but fail to recognize colors after being exposed to the sun, was the way his mind felt. The thing stood, it’s body appeared to be black, but mainly because no color could be assigned to it. It was Desmond’s height and turned to look him straight in the eye like it knew he was there the whole time. All Desmond could make out in the face were some dark sunken eyes and of all things a large grin from cheek to cheek. It was not the grin of friendliness, but the arrogance of total domination.

The Dominator by Josh Anderson


Desmond Blackwood has a fertile imagination. In his journal called Pi Rho Park he puts a face to his depression, loneliness, pain and alienation  in the form of a dark figure he calls The Dominator. In his head everything that causes him pain is from an attack from the Dominator. When he becomes obsessed with Pi Rho Park it begins to come alive. The Dominator takes on a reality that is horrifying and attacks Desmond with increasing viciousness.  Desmond is stuck in this psudeo reality that no one else can see and therefore he can tell no one. One day at a height of emotion Desmond is sucked into Pi Rho Park and there is forced to battle and conquer the Dominator.


Jenika’s giggle, her smile, her pure blond hair drew Desmond to her so completely that he was finally able to quit thinking about Tiffany. Desmond, only a freshman in high school had somehow allowed himself to imagine Tiffany as perfect, the only girl he could see himself marrying. His infatuation had lasted years, and so when he finally worked up the courage to ask Jenika out, it was a milestone for him – not mention, his first girlfriend.

Difficulties would soon arise, as Desmond’s sheltered world was cracked and splintered by the realization of who Jenika was. She had not been raised like he was. Her paradigm was shaped by a hard life- doing drugs with her mother, losing her virginity at 14, having been raped. To Desmond’s innocent mind, these things hit him like a head on collision. No longer was he living in a safe haven of sorts.

He loved her, however, and sought her attention. He bought her gifts and wrote her letters. His attempts to woo her were met, at first, without reciprocation. Then his heart met its first rejection as he began to see disinterest in her eyes.

Feeling he was losing her, he called more and wrote her more until one day she called him aside into an empty classroom.

“Desmond…I…I don’t think this is working. You’re one of the nicest guys I have ever met, but I just feel like I’m bringing you down. I don’t think we can be with each other anymore…I’m not really sure what you want out of this”

This can’t be the end, thought Desmond, I’ve got to fight harder. “I just want you,” he said it without any breath behind it.

She seemed ice cold, “I’ve got to get going,”.

Thoughts of their time together flickered through Desmond’s mind like someone thumbing through a picture book. His stomach felt like he had just drank a gallon of spoiled milk. Jenika left the room, he sat down in a metal folding chair and closed his eyes – and that’s when he saw it.

In his mind, out of a brooding expanse of tumultuous navy blue and violet clouds a tornado-like tail dropped to the horizon. The tail produced a man-like figure. The thing covered the distance between them like some sort of banshee from a nightmare. It met Desmond with the force of a semi, bowling him over as if he were an offensive back and it was a linebacker.

Desmond, snapped his eyes open. He knew he imagined the scene, yet it left him shaky, the way one feels after witnessing a grizzly car wreck.

The following weeks were bleak for Desmond. The world was gray. Nothing was funny. Food did not taste good. He wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

He saw Jenika frequently at school and church. She was very cordial and wanted to be friends with Desmond.  Many times he attempted explaining his feelings to her in notes. Each time her replies were friendly and she seemed to genuinely care for him, but she still did not desire a romantic relationship.

Finally Jenika got frustrated with his constant pushing to be more than friends. One night after a church service, he had pulled her aside to talk to her. Sensing he would attempt yet again to change her mind about him, she cut him off, “Desmond, it’s apparent to me that no matter what we do, things are not going to be all right. I can’t keep doing this. We can’t be together and we can’t be friends either!”

The words resonated through his head. He felt a little dizzy and his stomach felt nauseous. She left him and it felt just like she shoved him into the vastness of the arctic; alone, cold and dark. Part of him still wanted to chase after her, part of him wanted step into someone else’s life. He went up the stairs where she had gone and peeked through a door into the sanctuary where she was with some other friends beginning to practice music. She seemed happy with them, like they were normal friends who didn’t burden her and like what she just said to him didn’t even happen. It seemed like the only thing he could do was retreat to his imagination to ease the pain, to envelope himself in this made up analogy of what was happening.

He walked through a broken wrought iron gate. Rain came steadily down from the cloud darkened twilight sky. A fearsome atmosphere kept him alert, eyes darting left, then right. He followed the dirt path before him which led into a dark forest. Something in his mind urged him to keep moving. It seemed that a presence was behind him and so his pace quickened and then broke into a run. He peered over his shoulder once. On the second glance a shock sent a jolt through his body as it was all at once clear that there in fact was a figure on his heels.

Desmond cut hard off of the path and into the eerie dark woods. All he could see were vague dark branches right before his head shoulders and arms broke through them. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed he could not gain on the figure. Then he felt a large hand firmly grasp his collar jerking him to a halt. With a hard jerk the thing forced Desmond to the ground tearing his jacket off. It kicked him in the face and it felt to Desmond that every part of his face was broken. The thing was ruthless, stomping him directly in the face.

Desmond opened his clenched eyes feeling the tears release and roll down his cheeks. He was in his bedroom sitting at his desk. He realized he was breathing hard, the experienced was so incredibly lucid. He reached for one of his new school notebooks and tore out the algebra in the front. He grabbed a black ballpoint pen out of a clay cup and penned the things he just imagined. Before long he had several pages written. He sat up, wondering what all this meant.

He had always loved to draw and went back through the pages making drawings to further illustrate how he thought. He drew a sort of caricature of himself pulling his skin off. He then tried to draw the thing that chased him. He sketched out a human shape but when he tried to draw the face, he couldn’t quite picture it. After a few attempts at adding facial features he realized the best way to represent the figure would be to leave the face a black void. He scribbled a single word in the margin: Dominator.

Desmond’s days became more and more filled with self-loathing. Finally after several months Jenika started talking to him again. She was his only outlet for the pain he felt and so he found great comfort in talking to her.

The rest of Desmond’s High School years passed plagued by the Dominator. Desmond felt like an outsider; no one understood him.



Moonlight cast long shadows from sage brush and pinons that cover the rocky cliffs around this desert canyon. Darkness between the trees hides something, some sort of presence that all the locals know vaguely about.


On this fall night the crickets were quieted by a group of college students from the nearby city of Grand. Groups of  students  enjoyed traveling the twenty minute drive to the canyon  to go to the caves and tunnels that dotted the canyon walls. Some of these tunnels wound their way under the canyon road above. A game simply referred to as “tunnel running” in which students dared each other to feel their way through the long tunnels without aid of a flashlight was a favorite.  On this particular night the tunnel runners were a small group of students from an on campus Bible study group. Most of them were freshmen and they were really just getting to know each other. For the most part they all had a lot in common.

“Hey everybody , after this you wanna  come over to my place?” asked Jake who was at the front of the pack with a large Coleman flashlight. Jake naturally took on leadership of the group. He was well spoken and not afraid to tell people when they were wrong. He was well accomplished in high school and a  champion basketball player.

“I probably need to study before I go to bed, but you guys can do whatever,” answered Janet whose flashlight helped illuminate the path alongside Jake’s. Janet was perfect, always doing what she was supposed to. She was so happy cheerful all the time that no one could ever be mad at her for anything.

“Here’s a tunnel!” Lacy said pointing with her flashlight. Lacy was a bit goofy, but nevertheless very outgoing and self-confident.

“Hey, do you guys see those bats up above the entrance?” Desmond had seen the reflection of their beady eyes from the reflected moonlight because he didn’t have a flashlight. That was the way Desmond was, while most of them had bought flashlights that night, Desmond saved his money because he never did things ‘just because everyone else did’.

“Oh I see them!” said Kate excitedly. Kate was a pretty blonde. She liked to work out at the gym, and seemed a little absent minded most of the time.

“Well , shall we enter the tunnel?” asked Matt getting impatient. Matt was Jake’s best friend and an excellent guitar player. Jake and Matt liked to play basket ball together daily .

“Everybody turn off your flashlights,” reminded Lacy. The area around the tunnel opening became dark and inside the tunnel was inky black.

“This is scary,” commented Kate. Desmond looked over her way. He liked it when  girls expressed their insecurities. It wasn’t long after that Desmond realized he was developing a crush on Kate.

“Oh come on, you woudn’t be scared if there was light. It’s the same thing in the dark as it is in the day,” Matt shot back at her.

Once they were all inside the thick black darkness they started talking loudly and their voices bounced off the walls. Desmond remained silent as usual.

The cave’s low ceiling dropped sand and dirt as their hands scraped along . They moved along slowly, feeling the walls and occasionally balling up spider web in their hands.

Grey. Then movement. Clouds rushed by his face. He was swiftly moving though a dense fog . He was falling. No, he sitting on…on a horse.  Desmond’s muscles were tense and he was sweating. Then it came back into his conscience, he was fleeing. Like so many times before. He knew not  what it would take to outrun his enemy but he knew he had to fight with all he was worth. He looked over his shoulder and saw nothing, then a blackness behind the fog. It was coming up on him at a ferocious speed. Desmond felt wasn’t fair, he could feel the figure had unlimited power and was ruthless.

He tightens his mountainous muscles. Disgustingly his flexing works something out of him. Razor blades burst out of his grey skin. The points glisten with blood and sharpness.

*****A drop of rain made its way through flames and hit the ground giving off steam and a tiny bit of smoke. Then another and another. Soon a steady rain was becoming a downpoor. Flames extinguished and were replaced by thick smoke. I watched as that damn dark forest seemed to fight back-almost as if the darkness grew like trees. I turned to run and noticed the rest of the army was gone. I stood alone in the pouring rain. I hear a twig snap as under the paws of a large animal. A sinking feeling filled me.

Meanwhile our armies had drawn back to the basin where the new source fuel was being stored. The sound of sirens and alarms filled the air. They discovered a contamination in the fuel.

I heard some branches snap.

Inconceivable how strong the Dominator is.

I looked to my left.Then I heard the deep crack of any entire tree trunk snapping. I swung my vision to my right in time to see the beast emerge from the blackened forest. It galloped toward my at a break neck speed. It opened its wolf mouth bearing paranah teeth.It knocked me down with the force of a semi truck. The teeth bit deep into my torso.

I layed under its weight, its unbending, relentless power could only diminish with time. I closed my eyes to it’s horrible face.

Some time later the rain stopped and opened my eyes to daylight. This was a set back for us but when I looked down the hill I saw our armies already pumping the the new fuel onto the trees and reigniting fires and adding to the ones that were still going

Weird Things

It was cold enough out to see your breath but there still wasn’t any snow  yet in this December. Jax parked his small pick up in a dirt parking lot that led to the paved trail he was about to rollerblade. Jax sat on his tail gate and pulled off his shoes tossing them in the back of the bed. The sun  was just disappearing  behind the Western Colorado hills leaving  soft pink clouds. Jax fought his rollerblades on and tied them tight and then tucking his keys into the laces because his striped workout pants had no pockets.  As he plopped out of the bed he became aware of the cold and pulled on a black beanie. He forgot gloves and so he pulled his hands into the sleeves of his blue hoodie. Ahh the fresh air, he thought as he began to skate the path.

He figured the last time he had been down this trail was when the leaves were bright yellow and he could still wear shorts. He watched all the familiar landmarks whiz by as he propelled himself  on the fluid wheels. Why hadn’t he come out here more often? The feeling of being outside, even in the cold air, was exhilarating and only provoked by the sense of speed. His eye caught a brown rabbit that darted across the road and then disappeared with its camoflauge. There was that tree that had been so beautiful in the fall, and the jagged log painted to look like an alligator slothing out of the underbrush.

The path twisted and turned hugging the river and abandoning it. It rose and fell gently bringing Jax by a small field and then back into a more wooded area. He began to be aware of the coming dark. He thought if only his legs weren’t getting tired he’d like to follow the trail to the mountains and then to the ocean. Every time he skated this path he wondered why it was so hard to get himself to get dressed and drive there, it certainly wasn’t an inability to skate, In fact he was very good on his rollerblades and went into the winter on ice skates. It wasn’t because of any past experiences on this trail, every time had been nothing but enjoyment.

Jax came to a point where the path bent and circled to a parking lot not far from the highway. By this time he knew he should turn back as night was creeping in fast.  He skated a circle and headed back with a little extra speed. He felt like he was floating down a short hill when suddenly his skate caught a rut. His body jerked but he managed to regain control by putting all of his weight on the other foot. He looked back at the spot in disbelief. He had never done that on this trail. He shrugged it off and continued through the familiar curves though they were getting difficult to see.  He started thinking about life in general, about when he would go to the store for groceries and what his work schedule was that week. He came on one of the two wooden bridges that he dreaded because worn slats slowed his skates down so much. As soon as he hit the bridge it was as if one of the planks had grabbed ahold of his wheels. Jax went down on his side. His momentum making it impossible not to slide across the bridge. All at once he felt the splinters and the road rash along with his wrist which struck the ground first. He laid on the ground in stunned silence and then felt his leg in a reflex to see if it was OK.

He stood back up and lightly laughed before continuing. As he picked up speed again he became aware of an anxiousness in himself. It seemed to him that every next turn had some awaiting danger. The feeling grew progressively worse until he felt like there was a presence in the woods around him. His mind shifted to the time. It was now completely dark and he knew he ought to be back at his truck by now. “keep skating” he told himself, ‘the dark is making it seem longer’.

Jax noticed a leaf blow across the trail and the tall grass in the woods waving.  Simultaneously he felt the sting of his road rashed leg.  The wind picked up strength at an unnatural speed.

Wake Up


A very creative lonely depressed guy meets a girl who wakes up his creativity. They have fun and really begin to experience life together. In the end he finds out she was never even real, only a figment of his imagination.

In the desert your soul can dry out with the environment. Your motivation to do anything evaporates with the sprinkler water that is supposed to be keeping your grass green. Equa, Colorado was like that. In the south western corner of Colorado that might as well be Arizona. Just as bad as the 100 plus degrees, was the dry air.

Untitled Story

Typed on mom’s computer (1996?)

Chapter 1

“There he goes again,” Vic Custer leaned his chair back pulling the blinds down and peering down the neighborhood street. The aging but ever-comfortable lazy-boy creaked.

“Buddy?” asked Karen Custer. It appeared their 17 year old son was leaving them to live on his own, far, far away…again.

Buddy Custer, hunched over his BMX bike, pedaled down Blueberry Street and turned right on Apple Street.

Vic turned back to his evening paper and his glass of bourbon. Karen pretended to dust the blinds in an attempt to see the last of Buddy. These “episodes” as Doctor Lynch described them were only a teenage phase, but Karen could not help but worry for Buddy. The last thing she saw was his blond hair blown in the wind and his black back pack, most likely stuffed with clothes and his comic books.

“Alright! You did it! Clean getaway!” cried Nathan Penrod at seeing Buddy skid into his front lawn, laying the bike over. Nathan was only a year older than Buddy and living on his own in a trailer house that once belonged to his late grandfather James T. Penrod, also known as the “Bookman”. Nathan supported himself on the wages of Pizza Delivery and no intentions of moving up in life.

Buddy followed him into his house. “I think they may have seen me,”

“So? What are they gonna do, take you to Dr. Lynch Mob and have him psychoanalyze you again?” he mocked the doctor saying “Bud suffers from post-traumatic inflammation of the inner cerebral cortex and is-”

“No, I guess not…how’s the transmitter comin’ along?”

“Uh…its about the same as you last saw it…but, I really think I’m on the verge of breaking through-I just need more power. Just hang on, bro, we’ll be broadcasting on our own FM wave anytime now!!!”

“Cool, so where’s my room?”

“Yours is gonna be the book room, I hope you don’t mind,” he pointed down the paneled hallway.

“I thought I was gonna get the back room,” Buddy pointed across the living room to the back door which led to a small edition on back.

“Oh, uh…I meant to tell you, um, Jeff’s gonna live with us too…”

“What? Jeff can’t live with us! He – he can’t live on earth!!! He’s totally messed in the head…I mean, he’s a friend – but we can’t have-”

“Conspirators hiding in the crawl space and bugs in the phones?”

“Exactly!” Buddy had a look of bewilderment and ran his fingers through his straight hair.

“We can handle it! Besides, he’s got a rad stereo and a good CD collection that we can use when I get the transmitter up…and anyway, I think he could help keep us clear of the police and your parents…”

Jeff Buck was 22 and worked at a coffee shop in their small town of Filner. He was prone to walking down the street in awkward long then short then short steps, so as not to step on cracks in the sidewalk. In his mind, the reality of breaking his mother’s back was as real as the air he breathed. Common Avenue, where The Beaner, the coffee shop was, had wide sidewalks and many alley ways, one of which led to an adjacent alley and ended by the river behind Nathan’s trailer. When Jeff reached the end of the pavement, his steps became normal again and it was[n’t] long before he was climbing the wooden slat fence and falling into the sparsely grassy backyard.

Buddy sat on the big cushy sofa next to the front door and was startled by the back door’s weather-strip popping as it flew open.

“Hey Buddy!” Jeff’s face went from concerned to overjoyed and then he remembered what he was going to say, “Nate, bro, there’s someone about 40 yards behind me, I think he started following me at the Beaner,”

Nate had learned to humor him so that he would drop the subject, “Alright, I’ll turn on the electric fence to make sure he gets no closer,” and then proceed to the business at hand, “Did you bring your CDs?”

“All 354 of ’em! ‘Course, Lynyrd Skynyrd’s lost its cover and my Poison and Anthrax cases are busted because of the spies – they thought I had microchips inside,”

“Well, cool, you guys arrived just in time. I found this book behind the wall panel after lunch today,” Nathan picked up a thick book on the coffee table and opened it to the book mark. Buddy made out the words Electrical Handbook. “Right here, it says all we need is 3000 watts…”