For Jacob, Project 157, "World Peace"

She rode high on her Gen-10 Battle T-Rex, longshot sniper rifle strapped across her back. Her intel indicated that just over the next crest she could refuel and stock up on ammo at a lumbering mobile town. 

The desert was hot as hell, and Predatordactyls with their skull-mounted laser cannons soared high on the heat waves. It had been a long and bloody war, but resurrecting the dinosaurs had brought it to a quick end. 

Now, the war-dino units were mostly assigned to peacekeeping and humanitarian missions. 

Anyway, that's what your son told us when we asked him what he had drawn for his assignment on world peace, and I think you can discern why we asked you to come in. I mean, the battle-mistress in this drawing is completely nude. He's five years old for Christ sake, this is not normal behavior. Needless to say, we want to start him in the gifted program right away. 

End.

For Lauren, Project 157, "Never Have I Ever"

"Never have I ever..." He said, and ashed his cigarette. 

"Come on!" They chorused. 

It was a perfect Indian summer evening, there were about a dozen people lounging on the front porch, kissing, drinking, or falling asleep. 

He smiled wildly, like the Cheshire Cat. "Touched a penguin."

"Fuck you!" Retorted Jessie from the railing where she was perched, "You have too! You just like to rub it in because I didn't."

"Oh, that's right." He said with more than a hint of sarcasm, and took a big swig from his PBR. "It's worth it."

"Okay, fine." She fired back, "Never have I ever been punched in the dick." She jumped up, almost tripping over another drunk partygoer.

"Not worth it! I take it back!" He shouted.

"Two for flinching!" She yelled, and nailed him twice in the bicep. 

"Still worth it." He moaned... "To touch a penguin, I mean."

I'm pretty sure his manhood is still bruised. 

End. 

For Darin, Project 157, "The Ambassador".

After our ship sank, we gathered what we could of the floating debris, lashing the planks together and climbing aboard. 

Every night there was a lights show in the glassy sea.

We soon lost count of the days, trying our best to consciously repress the memory of what we had done to poor Davidson, his flesh still in our teeth.

After what seemed like weeks, we knew what had to be done. We drew straws and mine came up short. That night, as the stars came out, I slipped into the sea and began swimming into the depths. 

If I pleaded with the glowing monsters beneath the waves, they might take pity on us and perhaps drag our makeshift raft to dry land. The plan had seemed so simple that we forgot you cannot breath underwater, let alone plead for your life. 

This didn't come into my mind even as I drifted down into the inky black. 

End. 

Project 157 Update

Hey Readers,
Project 157 is back underway!
If you haven't heard, I'm writing 157, 157-word flash fiction pieces, each dedicated to a specific person.

Haven't read a Project 157 story? No worries, you can catch up by visiting the Project 157 page on this blog. You can also follow me on Twitter @alovesickman, and like the Project 157 Facebook page for news and updates.

Thanks for reading!
Gabriel

For Kimberly, 23 Going On 7, 'Project 157'

I put out the ice cream to melt. Setting my bin of Legos on the sofa, I flip on Netflix and fire up some MST3K. Sometimes I need to be a little kid again. 

I kick off my jeans and pull on my Batman PJ's. I think I'll build a spaceship. That's always been my go-to Lego project, each one getting more elaborate than the last. 

I remember showing my mom every innovation. Opening hatches, retractable landing gear, missiles ready to launch. She always listened, even when she was busy. Endless hours of exposition about every plastic vessel. 

Later, I will spread melted ice cream between chocolate chip cookies to make sandwiches just like she taught me. We have our differences these days, but even now she takes the time to listen. We don't agree about everything, but we always trust each other. 

I think I'll send her some pictures when my latest Lego creation is complete. 

End. 

People Who Are Closer to Me Than Kevin Bacon

People who are closer to me than Kevin Bacon:

• 3 Degrees - The Illustrious Vandal Bansky
• 2 Degrees - Neil Gaiman, and by extension
• 3 Degrees - Amanda Palmer
• 1 Degree - Ron Perlman (He replied to one of my tweets)
• 2 Degrees - Slipknot, the whole band
• 2 Degrees - The BTK Killer
• 4 Degrees - President Barrak Obama
• 5 Degrees - That Hip Dude Pope Francis
• 11 Degrees - Kevin Bacon, oddly enough

End.

April Showers (Rainy Day Breakup)

I never left / I didn't want to walk away from you
Wet streets / thick mud / runny rain / shiny pavement / black storm drain
Street lights / highway brights / fast cars / slow clouds slide by
Looking back / can't turn back / feet forward wet rain jacket
Door closed / cold hearts / cold wind blows through me
Never thought I'd last your late winter early spring demeanor
Somehow / right now / don't care and I'm glad I'm leaving
Warmer hands / brighter eyes / softer sheets / relationships await me
After towel / after shower / after coffee / I'll start rebuilding
My run down / old brick / dark heart / storm drain / rainy day cloud brain
Never believe / it's easy after all to walk away from you