Joe Swanson

“You Don't Say” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #76

“What I am attempting to tell you, is that when it comes to right and wrong, you are wrong. You can be both right, and wrong. That is the measure of any word, its meaning. And who gives it meaning?” “Oh contraire, my friend. Right and wrong, although opposites, are the same in one respect. One can’t exist without the other. It is the same principle as good and evil. The words and therefore the concept only have meaning if they exist in conjunction with one another.” “I see your point, but that does not eras...

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“Depictionary” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #76

“They call that, unprecedented?”     “I don’t know what you’d call it. I’m not sure what the word even means anymore. It’s one of those words that will go down in infamy. You know there is a problem with using a word too many times for too many different reasons. It begins to resemble those comedians who do nothing but swear. After a while it gets to be less effective. Your ears rebel against the lack of imagination. Let’s find another word. What do you say?” “I agree it has been us...

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“Today's Tomorrow” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #75

When I think back on my day, I can’t believe it actually is over. Much like the week, month, year, ten, twenty years gone. I spent most of that time planning I assume for something. I don’t even remember what it was anymore, but I must have believed it was important at the time. It is just that life goes by so fast, I don’t remember most of it happening. Tomorrow is a new year. I normally don’t pay much attention to all the celebratory nonsense that surrounds it. To me it was just another day, until it wasn’t. I...

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“Forgetting Something?” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #75

“You don’t remember anything?” “Nope, not a thing.” “Doesn’t that bother you? I know it would bother me.” I don’t really know when it began, because it isn’t like you get hit in the head, end up in the hospital and don’t know who you are or where you are. It is slower than that. It’s more like you can’t find your glasses. You know how someone always points to your head cause that’s where they are supposed to be. But you don’t wear glasses and you can’t find them cause you don’t remember you don’t wear glasses. It’s n...

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“Other's: Lives” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #75

“I was driving on the 5, when this truck up ahead of me slams on his brakes. That’s why I don’t like driving behind anything I can’t see around or over. Like to know what’s up ahead, just in case. Well this was one of those just in case times. A metal pole came flying from nowhere and went through the windshield just inches from me. I could have been dead, but I’m here talking to you.  I want to know how come I’m still here, and how you are going to get me through it.” “It’s not really what I do.” “They told me ...

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“Past Due” by Joe Swanson

When Abraham Bean stepped from the curb into the path of the oncoming bus, he said a prayer while closing his eyes, and kissing a metal cross that hung from a chain he’d found next to the dumpster at the corner market. He didn’t quite know what to expect, for he didn’t believe in heaven or hell, or limbo for that matter. He believed in nothing; absolutely nothing. He wasn’t always so blasé about life in general. But lately, with advent of the most recent projections about the world coming to an end, climate change, an impote...

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“Revolution In the Air” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #75

Jimmy Bob, lived on the thirteenth floor of Abercrombie and Flinch Building. Bob James, lived in the basement of the same building. Jimmy lived in the penthouse, having access to a rooftop with apocalyptic views of the city.  Bob lived next to a boiler that was heard to be possessed.  They shared one thing in common: noise.  The route of Santana Gomez, included the 4 AM dumpster pick up, and subsequent emptying of refuse from the dumpsters of the Flinch building, where it was meant to disappear into the unknown, and ...

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“Time Served” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #74

“How many commandments do we have?” “Ten, last I checked.” “How many amendments to our Constitution are there?” “I don’t rightly know; twenty, thirty…why?” There are times when we find ourselves entrenched in a physical or mental activity, when we become so overwhelmed by repetitiveness, that we become essentially comatose. Incapable of mental and or physical function. Jail will do that to you.  “How come we have only Ten commandments, and twenty-seven Amendments to our Constitution.” “Hey man, you is asking the wrong Dude.&...

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“Know Boundaries” by Joe Swanson

There is a place that exists only in our minds, or at least I believe it does. A place where decisions are made. A place free from influence, other than the influence we exert. You may not recognize that place, but it does exist. It is the place where morality and or ethics dwell.  I can not point to that place, or even define it, if I were asked too. It is a place built on a past, a vision of a future, and a present, that allows us to stampede through our daily routines in hopes of what, absolution perhaps? But...

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“A Time to Sew” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #74

I had planned, we had planned in case of trouble, that we would meet here. It is a root cellar on the old farm. It is built into a bank, and but for the door, invisible. It is its protective facilities that we considered, when deciding on a meeting place. The first military vehicles arrived about a week ago. They come and go, so we didn’t pay an abnormal amount of attention to their presence. But after a week, and the continued addition of troops, we began to worry that something out of the ordinary was about to happ...

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“The Two Step” by Joe Swanson

Two Step “When I snap my fingers, you will awaken and remember nothing of what has occurred… So Michael, you are stating that the election as far as you are concerned is all but over. Do you really believe that, or are you just telling me what I don't want to hear?” “Does it matter? You know you have no intention of leaving. You have seen to that. You have corrupted the system to the point that it is no longer a system.  Which indicates there are no avenues that one can pursue to procure a different outcome. W...

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“What's Love Got to Do With It” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #74

What’s Love Got to Do With It? “You made it. I had my doubts. What with everything going on I wasn’t sure you’d be able to get here. Any trouble?” “No. I am fortunate. Working for the airlines gives me a certain amount of flexibility others don’t have. I do not apologize for that. Everyone has advantages others can’t utilize. It is the way the world works.” Jean believes in a world that exists because it has too. We are born by circumstance into a life, inherit the tools provided, and when old enough...

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“Dear God” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #73

Dear God, it’s… that time of year again. I sit here thinking of what to write. I know I’m a little old for writing letters to a presumably fictional character, known around the world for taking much of the spice out of Christmas, at least as far as the One and Only Son is concerned. But never the less, I believe it is good therapy and I recommend it to all. No one actually believes they are going to get what they ask for anyway, but it’s not the asking, or the getting, that’s important. It is a fact that you lessen the trep...

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“Sticks and Stones” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #73

Sticks and Stones “What do you call that?” “What do I call what?” “That thing you have there. What is that?” I get that all the time. People tend to pay attention to only the things that bite at them or threaten too. It’s as if they can’t see what’s in front of them because they choose not to. I get it. Living in a time when one wrong step can get you killed, or worse, whishing you had, makes one a bit psychotic. But that is no excuse for not paying attention. As a matter of fact, it should make people mo...

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“Linus” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #72

Linus I’m not a conscript of nostalgia, but sometimes when you are cleaning out the closet, you find something that causes you to remember something you’ve forgotten about. It happens to me, most often during the holiday season. Why, I am not sure. Perhaps, it maybe that I’m at my most vulnerable, during that time. I was unpacking Christmas ornaments, when I realized that I had wrapped each memorable glistening globe, complete with its silvery bent hook, in newspaper; the funny papers to be exact. I like to use the co...

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