I hate this goddamn corn.  I’ve been walking up and the down the rows for years and can’t get out.  The leaves are slapping me in the face and I just saw a snake.   It’s like being trapped in a scene from Signs, just waiting for the bloodthirsty extraterrestrials to jump out and consume my brain. 

I’d feel better if they actually did.  Then I can blame all my woes on somebody else. . . just like all the rest of the brainless zombies walking around.  Hey, maybe they’re all victims of the corn, too!  Just like that B-horror classic, Children of the Corn, they slink out at night and rob the living of their souls.  They look innocent enough, plump and rosy-cheeked, but inside they are slimy and amoral, prepared to dash your head on concrete pylons and scoop out your brains with their chubby little fingers.  Yum, yum.

I think I see a couple of those kids behind the row to my left.  They’re easy to spot, with their blank stares and excessively clean school uniforms.  I mean, just look at me.   I’m a complete mess!   I’ve got grass stains on my knees and spider webs in my hair and those little bastards are pristine.

I gotta get out of here.  If the little monsters don’t get me first, then the monotony will.  I think there’s more than bio-fuel available out here.



  1. adamtree Says:

    Interesting bit of flash fiction. I didn’t think I was going to like it at first, but the overall effect works well.
    -James A Woods

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