Popular Fictional Prose

Black Cross for a Penitent Angel                                                              
                                                                  
My employment carousel finds me sitting behind the desk in a classroom at a school for the gifted. I am the substitute teacher for these acolytes of the baroque masters of melody. Young pianist, flutist, and organist birth notes on high with fingers on fire. This is an Olympian high school where Apollo’s children excel. I just melt in my soma zone while the kids strum my heart with the music of the Gods.
The...

A pathy for this
A pathy for that
A path that leads to a little blue flat
Cabin-esque and bright green door
Five hundred chickens galore
Oh this bedtime story's already awry
Let's knock on the door, give it a try
Rap a tat, rap a tap
Shh, someone's knocked back!
Oh deary me where were we
Inside or out I can't see
Suppose it's all these five hundred chickens
Flopping about and mad as Dickens
Sweet child chicken's on a ceiling fan
And a crumbly iced up gingerman!
"Once upon a time, everyone died, the end."

She rang off. Dazed, she took the escalator down and found the platform teeming with people. The train came. She got on. The carriage was filling up.

There’s something your stinking rich rellies haven’t told you. The wrong man went to prison.

The carriage doors shut.

While granddaddy spoilt you and pampered to your every demand, an innocent man did time for a crime your father had committed. And granddaddy knew.

The train started to move.

Not very nice, covering up a murder and letting someone else take the blame.

Another stop....