on the outside

Pacing the icy hallways and crystal corridors of the Fortress of Solitude, Superman pondered the meaning and purpose of life, and the fate of those who depended on him. Alone. Sad. Tired. He ventured forth seldom these days into so-called civilisation. Alienated and profoundly depressed, he no longer sought to wreak justice upon the wrongdoer. Apparently indifferent to the plight of the

nobody wants to hear that story

Once upon a wonderful time, when the world was new and the sky was blue and the lambs frolicked in the meadows and the bears shat in the woods but carefully cleaned up after themselves, and people loved each other and never was heard a troublesome word... Nah! Nobody wants to hear that story..."I'll tell you a story," the wrinkled old man said, the aged and nut-brown guru at the top of the world

the Office of the Lost & Found

In the Office of the Lost & Found the dust lies thick upon the windowsills, the chairs, the tables, and the desks of the clerks. Their bald heads shine and they blink owlishly behind their spectacles as they search the Records of Reduced Potential, inscribe with scratchy goose quill pens in the Ledger of Lost Opportunity, and update the Files of Futile Undertakings, in the Office of the Lost &

happy hungry campers

The Happy Campers encountered the Scum of the Earth at the Crossroads of Perplexing Coincidence. The Happiest Camper said to the Chief Scumbag, "Good day to you kind sir. What a happy day, is it not?" The Chief Scumbag grimaced then replied, "Get fucked asshole!" "Oh dear," said the Happiest Camper, "I do apologise if we have offended you and your friends in any way..."The Chief Scumbag frowned

a certain doorway

There is a certain Doorway through which some have crossed over to other places, other dimensions, from which few if any ever return. Some say the Doorway is a Painting, a Magic Painting. Others say it is a device---a stargate, a portal, a magic casement---created by unknown and unknowable beings from the singularity at the very heart of the Cosmos. Mathematicians believe it is a flaw in the

my bad

Once, when we were little, Jonnie and me were playing and Jonnie got hurt, and started crying.I started larfing. Jonnie hated that, when you started larfing at him. Then mum came and blamed me for everything and said she was going to tell dad. And I got really upset and screamed at mum and pushed her, just a little push… Can't remember what happened next, but anyway, that's how I got my bad.

the secrets of Pappiloma

Held within the human heart or mind, are dark secrets, darker secrets and the darkest secrets of all--those relating to shame and guilt. No more or less shameworthy than those held within the heart of Pappiloma, a Senior Scribe in the Royal Department of Information of the Royal Bureau of Administrivia of the Realm of the Right Royal Regime of King Roger the 14th, the reigning ruler of Rogerland-

the Plug-hole of Nothingness

"Uncanny how the processes of consciousness conspire and emerge unwittingly, unknowingly and unknowably behind the scenes in the Drama of Existence now showing at the Theatre of Self," said the Novice to the Teacher, an aged and witless mendicant of dubious extraction and inherence."If that is what you have derived from the Teachings," responded the Aged One, imperturbably eating a banana," then

the ninja

In the dead of the day the ninja crept like a wounded hyena toward its prey. No clouds crossed the sky; the ninja wondered why. He had always wondered where the clouds go to die: a practice that had cost him dear over the years. The times, for instance, when as a boy he had turned to his father and plaintively enquired, "Oh where do the clouds go to die, daddy-san?" only to receive a swift box

miscarriage of justice

The coppery smell of blood hung in the air within the narrow, blighted birth-chamber. "Not salvageable," was my father's judgment carelessly declared over the dying body of his newlywed wife--some thirty years his junior--on the occasion of my emergence into this world of pain. © Copyright S R Schwarz 2007. All rights reserved.home (refresh screen)

burning with desire

Last night, I took two dried chillies and crushed them between the fingers of my right hand, sprinkling the red fragments onto the rice upon my dinner plate. Later that night, I masturbated. Fuck! Talk about burning with desire! © Copyright S R Schwarz 2007. All rights reserved.home (refresh screen)

infinite regress

This particular story is about a particular person who doesn't exist until and unless a specific story is written about a specific person who doesn't exist until and unless a unique story is written about a unique person writing a certain story about a certain person who doesn't exist until and unless ze writes a one-off story about a one-off person who doesn't exist until and unless... Help! I'm