Narias1989

Teddy Chen sat in the corner of the Planned Parenhood, twisting a Phillips screwdriver into his silver Rolex. He snapped the back-panel into place, and knocked over a rubber tree plant as he hopped up. “Finito! It’s completed! Completed!” He skipped over to his friends at the counter, where there was a long line waiting for the receptionist. She was still locked in a Time Loop. “I got the finishing touches for Version 1.23 ready to roll,” said Teddy. The receptionist smiled

Calamari Codependency -17.438327, 178.954304 I read Matt's text while swinging in my bungalow hammock, butt-ass naked. M: Cruise over for a rescue mission, MOFO. And bring the Elephant Juice!!! Using only thumbs, I responded: TC: Let's stick to Rooibos tea instead. M: HELL NO AMIGO. We need the Spirit of Africa, right meow. Copy? TC: Copy. M: And wear your squid hat. Copy? TC: Copy. Soon as I wrestled on pants and undies, I went into the k

This short story's about two guys who become expatriates in an African country, making a living off saving the wildlife. It's a draft, and I'm concerned that the ending was rushed. Always looking for input. I also have two titles. Which one is better? Thanks readers.

I'm generally a forgiving reader but I can't stand terrible dialogue.

Hey Jeff, Thanks for the read. I write lots of vignettes and short stories about these same characters. I guess I could start compiling them here. I've got whole binders full of Teddy and Danny stories

I live in a suburb and there's a starbucks across the street from my house. By now I'm probably considered a regular even though I don't talk to the baristas. It's my community, why shouldn't I be able to hang out here? I just buy a coffee and sit in the corner to write. Sometimes I get a refill or go to Taco Bell for lunch and come back. No one seems to mind as long as I'm quiet and respectful. The time limit is usually reserved for homeless people and I don't look homeless. Someone mentioned here they go to Lestat's. Is that the one in San Diego? I live a few blocks away in North Park.

Three men sat on the bench atop Koi Hill, hanging out between classes, wasting precious time. The tallest man rose from his seat, demonstrating brilliant upright American posture. He sighed and looked at the sky, brown hair blowing in the summer September wind. “You all right, Spaulding?” said Teddy, to his left. He kept his nose poked inside the pages of small leatherbound book. “Sounds like someone needs a hug,” said Danny, on the right. He had a skateboard flipped upside down on his

I wanted to try writing some sketches about characters I've made up. This short story is about three men sitting on a bench who find out that their friend's baby is in terrible danger. Antics commence. This is a poor attempt at comedy too

3:17 AM When I saw what looked like a Flying Spaghetti Monster's silhouette flying across the full moon, that's when I knew Bennet was telling the truth. Even if I blinked ten-thousand more times, it was still there, that wiggly pasta of doom. Then I saw them split off into smaller entities, that spilled over her round face like dripping eyeliner. La Luna, mi amore! How dare they touch you. Those fiends up there must be the Trespassers, Bennet mentioned. “You see them,” he said. I

Thanks man, I'm so happy you feel that way. Your words are really an encouragement. I'll make sure to give some of your stories a read when I can. best, narias

Longtime lurker here. Thought I'd drop by and finally say hello to everyone. I've been writing on and off and lately and decided to put more effort into it, and this seems like a nice place to post stuff that I'd be otherwise embarrassed to share. Other than writing, I like to read and skate and go fishing. Hope to see y'all around. narias

3:04 AM Bennet and the spider were talking again. I overheard them while writing from the bench. Just a couple of streetlight hood-rats jabbing away. I knew I could outrun the armed asshole, but something about what was happening compelled me to stay. My night was thus far pretty surreal and terrifying, but it was far more interesting than anything my boring day-to-day life ever mustered up. Plus my veins were still coursing with liquid courage. Listen: “What did you want to know,

The Empress and the Ivory Tower 1:25 AM We left the bar and walked through the empty alleyways down Campanile into the clear moonlit night. I saw the campus bell-tower on the horizon, ticking away beneath the wide starocean, and its Spanish-style spire poking the bottom of the crescent moon. Why was La Luna frowning? That's the first I'd ever seen her so sad and upside-down. Bennet and I walked in companionable silence down the airy pavilion lined with palm trees and

Thanks for the read, Will.

Back on the Ground 12:14 AM Word Count: Less Than Zero So I kept my promise. I didn’t start my story the night before the due date. I started the morning before instead. See look at the clock. Huzzah. Way to go, Shinozaki-Sanderson. You succeeded in finding another loophole justifying your procrastination. Aces, man. Well, enough chit-chat. It's business time. (Where have I heard that before?) 12:16 AM Word Count: nada y pues nada y nada y pues nada