Angela Horst > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

As I opened my eyes for the first time in my undeath, I felt the stirrings of hunger. I suppose I should use a different word, for it wasn't..

It was one of those moments you take a step back from your life and ask: how the hell did I get here? I was standing in an aisle of my local gro..

In the end, I guess I got drunk enough to listen to the now-worldly gnome in my basement. I decided against the yellow pages because, let's be re..

It was stormy that night, a particularly bad combination with my line of work. Sleeping was the only way I could stay in business, and the rain t..

Guinness was asleep when I entered the basement, snoring loudly on his bed of lichen. He had a Breathe-Right strip across his bulbous nose; he ma..

Guiness was already there when I arrived. He tapped a dirty toe in obvious irritation at my tardiness. “What?” I asked sheepis..

I awoke ravenous. This happened every time; a serious case of the munchies without the fun of the hasheesh. I kept a few bags of potato chips and..

“So can I go?,” Guinness asked hopefully. He was clipping his toe nails with a clipper, and I watched in disgust as the nails bounce..

“See if I take you anywhere anymore,” I yelled at Guinness when we made it back to my apartment. Guinness was silent, his stubb..

I awoke early the next morning to a knock at my door. And by early, I mean noon. “Just a minute,” I yelled from inside, rushing..