One morning, as Paul McCartney was waking up from an anxious dream, he discovered that he had been changed overnight into a human-sized beetle. He lay on his armor-hard back and saw, as he lifted his head a little, his black, arched abdomen divided up into ridged bow-like sections. His six legs, pitifully thin in …
Continue reading “Suddenly, I’m not Half the Man I Used to Be”
A low rumble of thunder reverberated through the closed windows of the silver Bentley. Ringo cast an anxious glance at the ominous grey sky through the car’s front windshield. “Please tell me we’re almost there,” he begged his estate agent, Rowena Montresor. “Almost,” she assured him. She lifted her left hand off the steering wheel …
Continue reading “Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allen Poe”
“Damn, it’s dark,” cursed Neil Aspinall as he maneuvered his van around a tight turn on the deserted road. “So what?” replied John. “There’s nothing to see for miles on either side of the road but moors.” “It was rather pretty driving out here,” Ringo called up from the back seat of the van. “All …
Continue reading “Give me Moors! Hey Hey Hey! Give me Moors!”
Ringo leaned against the grimy brick wall and stared longingly at the peddler’s cart. He hadn’t eaten a thing since he’d run away from the workhouse the previous afternoon, and he was starving. Last night he’d been too terrified to even think about food. Curled up in the cramped, smelly doorway of an abandoned flophouse …
Crowley cleared his throat with a loud cough. Aziraphale looked up from his work and smiled. “Dear boy, welcome! I didn’t hear you open the shop door.” “I just stepped inside,” Crowley apologized. “I needed to tell you that…” He looked down at the countertop and lost his train of thought. “Beelzebub’s balls! Either my eyes …
Paul rubbed the palm of his left hand against the floor. It felt cool and slippery, like polished metal. He tried to lower his right hand to the hard surface he was lying on, but it was pinned to his chest, his fingers clutching the fabric of his fine linen shirt. Breathe, he urged himself. …
“Yes, that’s my handwriting,” Paul stated succinctly. He scrutinized the sheet of paper bearing an incomplete, hand-written lyric to Mother Nature’s Son and frowned. “But this is a very early version of the song. I changed most of these lines by the time I recorded the demo at George’s house, and some of the chords …
John smiled wistfully at the name inscribed on the headstone. “I had a cat called Tim when I was young,” he said. “He lives with my Aunt Mimi still.” “Aye, Tim’s a fine name for a pet,” replied Angus MacGregor. He nodded politely at John, then pointed his flashlight at another grave marker in the …
“Merlin’s beard!” exclaimed Narcissa Black. She spun both of her arms in windmills to check her balance as she struggled to stand still atop the narrow, rust-colored, cylinder. “Oh, stop making such a fuss,” chided her older sister Andromeda. “Last time I Apparated with you, you threw up, so we had to use Floo powder. …
George’s mattress bucked up like a wild bronco, waking him with a rude start. It jolted back down to earth just as suddenly. He crashed his head against the bed’s wooden headboard and winced in pain. He let a few seconds pass to make certain the room had stopped shaking, Then he sat up carefully …
Continue reading “Because, Because, Because, Because, Because!”
Creme Tangerine 