Hope Idiotic | Part VII
Fiction, David Himmel David Himmel Fiction, David Himmel David Himmel

Hope Idiotic | Part VII

By mid-November, Lou had been living with Michelle for two months. She provided half of the dresser for him and cleared out space in the bathroom cabinets and her closets for him in an effort to make her place his place, too. But she refused to let him hang any photos of his friends or family. And there was no way he was putting his film trophy on display anywhere.

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Lotusland
Fiction Guest User Fiction Guest User

Lotusland

"Saw a car accident there in meditation today." She pointed at an indeterminate northeast locale below. Nodding up at me in the pause as if I didn't believe her. "That's right, over coffee. I always stand right where you're standing for about fifteen minutes each morning while I break off a piece of the hottest joe I can possibly do, watching an interminably slow rush hour. The frustration is… transporting.“

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Hope Idiotic | Part VI
Fiction, David Himmel David Himmel Fiction, David Himmel David Himmel

Hope Idiotic | Part VI

The week that Lou arrived in Chicago, Franklin News, one of the largest media companies in the nation, laid off a thousand people. In the three months he’d been back, many other companies in his field had done the same. He wasn’t picky about whom he worked for, he just needed a gig. But every newspaper, magazine, radio station, marketing firm, advertising agency and public relations agency he could find wouldn’t even meet with him.

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Hope Idiotic | Part V
David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel

Hope Idiotic | Part V

Lou hit the San Francisco city limits just as night was coming down. He used the hostel book as promised to find a well-rated spot with a good view of the city. He’d never stayed in hostels before and was curious. He’d hoped to meet a few strangers he could make friends with for the night and explore the city with, but the place was pretty empty. It was too early in the summer for college students or Europeans to be backpacking their way through the country.

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Hope Idiotic | Part IV
David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel

Hope Idiotic | Part IV

Years of overeating and not exercising had finally taken their toll on Chuck’s mom. She collapsed from a heart attack in her Indiana home — the same small, rundown place where Chuck was raised. She was recovering at the nearest hospital a few towns away. It was a massive attack requiring surgery to add stents and to repair the lining of her heart’s wall. She also had a deadly case of type-2 diabetes. Her body was crumbling. She was in a fragile state, and death seemed imminent.

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Hope Idiotic | Part III
David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel

Hope Idiotic | Part III

A MONTH LATER AT WORK, JUST BEFORE LUNCH, CHUCK BURST FROM HIS OFFICE into the area where Lou and I sat. He ran his hands through his short hair, clawing his scalp.

“Fucking Jesus!” he said.

Lou and I swiveled our chairs toward him and leaned back ready for the meltdown.

“Department meeting!” Chuck said. “Now! Cuba Café! Neal, you drive!”

“I can’t. I have to get gas.”

“Good. Get it on the way back.”

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Hope Idiotic | Part I
David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel David Himmel, Fiction David Himmel

Hope Idiotic | Part I

SHORTLY AFTER THE HEIGHT OF AMERICA’S FLAGRANT PATRIOTISM FOLLOWING 9/11, and just before the dawn of The Great Recession, there existed a wonderful Italian restaurant called Bella’s Ristorante. It was built into the foothills of the Black Mountain Range just outside of Las Vegas in Henderson, Nevada, a few short and dusty miles from the Strip at the edge of a wealthy suburban subdivision. My best friends Chuck Keller and Lou Bergman adored the place.

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Termination
Paul Teodo, Tom Myers, Fiction Paul Teodo Paul Teodo, Tom Myers, Fiction Paul Teodo

Termination

Eriksen liked to stand out in red short-sleeve scrubs and extra-long gloves, blasting ZZ Top as he sawed, hammered and sewed on the orthopedically damaged suburbanites hoping to improve their less than stellar golf or tennis games. On occasion, especially in summer, I’d catch him in shorts. “Bjorn,” I’d scold him like a recalcitrant kindergartner, “put your pants on, Infection Control.”

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Sticky Valentine - An Erotic Fiction
Fiction Guest User Fiction Guest User

Sticky Valentine - An Erotic Fiction

Side one ended as the bed started to squeak. We stopped and snickered and shifted and slowed down. We were both super close even before we got started, but when we came we shuddered breathlessly next to each other like open barn doors in a heavy storm.

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Noble X — Episode 22: Please Take Me Home
Fiction, Mike Vinopal Mike Vinopal Fiction, Mike Vinopal Mike Vinopal

Noble X — Episode 22: Please Take Me Home

The mixture of things that seem like a healthy everyday John and manic Johnny 5 is making Thomas’ head spin. Thomas keeps thinking “John needs to go to the hospital to talk with some professionals," and in the same moment, “He seems kind of ok. Is the hospital really necessary?” Thoughts of doubt dance through his head as he drives John to his parents. 

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Buying Whores for Chuck Berry and a Threat from Jerry Lee Lewis
David Himmel, Fiction, Literate Ape Press David Himmel David Himmel, Fiction, Literate Ape Press David Himmel

Buying Whores for Chuck Berry and a Threat from Jerry Lee Lewis

“You work for the radio station?” he asked again.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Lewis. I’m Dr. Dave Maxwell. What can I help you with?” Little Richard walked past us, and he,  too, looked frail and worn down. The Killer glared at him as he passed. The Innovator didn’t seem to notice. Jerry Lee turned his gaze back at me, his eyes smaller now, his face taut with rage.

“Can you do me a favor, boy?”

“Of course.” 

“Don’t let that niggah touch my pianah.” He and his two men went on their way.

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Noble X — Episode 18: Opening Ceremonies
Mike Vinopal, Fiction Mike Vinopal Mike Vinopal, Fiction Mike Vinopal

Noble X — Episode 18: Opening Ceremonies

“What the fuck is he doing?” Thomas grabs Anthony by the arm. Anthony shrugs and whispers, “It feels like performance art, maybe. Not sure.” Colin overhears and adds leaning in, “Let’s just keep an eye on him.” Surprisingly, nobody leaves. However uncomfortable they’ve been made at the start of this evening, they are all intrigued and intend to see how this plays out.

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