Share My Soul

The ethics and morals of cloning were lost on me, I just needed the money. When I discovered,  through prayer and consultation with spiritual professionals, that my soul inhabited all genetic  incarnations of my cells, it seemed like a no-brainer.  Then I died and invaded heaven. Good was not pleased.

Eat It! Eat It!

It turns out my mulching mower is a war crime against nature. Chopping the grass so it can be  reabsorbed by the soil, and then fed to the very same grass is a method of forced cannibalism. To  save it, I will no longer mow. Freedom for both of us.

Concentrate People!

Septa Lemore slowly moved through the prescribed forms necessary for a spell of well being. Each
languid stretch moved her thin grey shift so that it covered less of her taut tanned body.  The male
prayers around her skewed more erect. The result was instead a spell of fertility.  Again.

Strike!

The lightning and thunder chased itself silly in the clouds, looking for a way to escape to where they could *really* party. Iron rods in the beach seemed to finally promise what they had been looking for. One by one they made the connection, only to become more hippie art.