Tag Archive for: Jeff Currier

Final Comfort

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by Jeff Currier

Desperate for food, Basil and Chloe risked an already looted grocery. A scavenger band ambushed them. Consciousness fading, Chloe never expected to reawaken.

***

The leader’s matronly voice penetrated Chloe’s resurrecting awareness.

“Your husband claims you’re a doctor.”

Chloe nodded, though the Collapse had cut medical school short.

The woman proffered a steaming bowl. Broth, vegetables, rice—even shredded meat. Chloe ate ravenously. Tipping the bowl, she slurped the last drops.

“Is Basil alright?” Chloe asked.

“He could offer nothing, except fulfilling his vow to comfort you.”

The woman, clerical collar worn and stained, reclaimed the bowl. “He comforted us all.”

 

Jeff Currier

Jeff writes little stories. Find more @jffcurrier or Jeff Currier Writes on Facebook.

Sword In Hand

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by Jeff Currier

Fleeting spectral images taunted Sigurd’s memory. Opening a man’s throat. Striding through crimson spray. Quick slashes ending children’s caterwauling. A golden-haired beauty screaming Valkyrie threats. Laughing, swatting away her knife. Slinging her over his shoulder. And dying—her second blade embedded in his spine.

Sigurd’s hand still clasped his sword. A Viking’s death then—body and blade bathed in enemies’ blood.

“Lies,” a slithering voice hissed. Icy breath froze his blood-encrusted skin. “Not enemies. Your brother, your kin, while trying to steal his wife.”

Sigurd opened his eyes.

“The dishonourable are mine!” Lokisdottir crooned amidst the frigid glaciers of Hel.

 

Jeff Currier

Jeff writes little stories.  Find more @jffcurrier or Jeff Currier Writes on Facebook.

Too Dumb For…

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by Jeff Currier

“Why’d they send him down here—record’s clean,” Azazel groused, eyeing the mangled soul.

Galzuel tapped the tablet, “Notation says: ‘Too dumb for Heaven’.”

“But where to put him?”

“With pogo-stick-frogger-on-the-autobahn guy?”

“No, his stupidity killed twelve additional people.”

“How about drank-bleach-to-prevent-Covid gal.”

“She was bigoted—didn’t love her neighbours.”

“He’s definitely not a suicide?” Galzuel asked.

“Upstairs says ‘no’, but I’ll double check,” Azazel said. “Why jump off the Grand Canyon with a parachute constructed of duct tape and cling wrap?”

“It should’ve worked,” the soul murmured.

“Limbo then.” Galzuel decided, adding a new notation: ‘Too dumb for Hell.’

Jeff Currier

Jeff writes little stories.  Find more at Jeff Currier Writes on Facebook.

Facebook: @jeffcurrierwrites

Queen of the Night

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by Jeff Currier

“Staring out his sliding door, wishing for sleep, Jacob spied his new neighbour, poised atop a beach towel, rubbing lotion over gleaming moonlit porcelain skin. Adjusting her scant blood-red bikini, she lay back as if starting a mid-afternoon sunbath.

Suddenly swathed in full moonlight, she blossomed blindingly bright. Blinking away afterimages, Jacob saw her towel, smouldering in the grass, empty. He rushed outside; stopped short. Basking, glowing, she smiled, moonbeams glinting off—what the hell? She brushed his arm. A sharp prick, then darkness.

Dew-covered, Jacob awoke, a throbbing rash wrapping his arm, radiating from an embedded porcelain-white cactus spine.

Jeff Currier

Jeff works three jobs, so has little time to write. Hence, he writes little stories.

 

YEAR FIVE

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