George Beighey
Stories (5/0)
The Envelope
Joe was a lonely, broken man, walking cold wet streets late one Christmas Eve. He wore, contrastingly, the jolliest of outfits, clad in the uniform of his latest job a mall Santa Claus. He was a poor imitation of St. Nick, sad, slumping, looking thin and depleted, despite a mound of stuffing around his middle. He oozed the odor of Jack Daniels, and walked as only a drunk could walk. He staggered down the street, thinking of family he never saw anymore. He was alone and angry. He hated Christmas. In fact, the only reason he kept his Santa job was because he felt it fitting to collect on this awful day any way he could.
By George Beighey6 years ago in Families
God's Champion
"I've got to get away! Why won't this nag go any faster?" The Champion cried as he raced his horse along the winding mountain road. He could still hear something chasing after him, forcing him ever higher into the mountains just outside the city of Essensia. He couldn't tell who or what chased him, but he knew he couldn't let it catch him. He had seen little more than shadows and heard little more than some sort of snarl, but he was filled with a dread which he could not explain.
By George Beighey6 years ago in Futurism