Craig Tyson Adams

Pursuing the life of a pug. A boxer. The smell of sweat and deprivation matched the humidity and heat from the lights. There had to be a better way of making a living. That time has passed. Once the taste was acquired, it was all over. I could smell the leather before it hit me. The twist of the hide tore at the flesh, leaving it raw only to be hit again. My arms ache after weeks of repetition and work. The effort that lasted until there was nothing left, only to push it further. The dull feeling of energy quickly dissipating made the body wish it had not consumed so much fast food hidden against orders. The time that should’ve been used to do more roadwork, as the endurance and lung capacity are now being felt at maximum capacity.  A flash of bright light makes me realize I need to bob and weave and move my head as another flash, while I think, tells me to hurry. My calves scream, but my thighs and back are moving perfectly in unison.  A spray of blood surprises me but then makes me

It is early evening. The rush hour traffic echoed from downtown into Emily Doliva’s neighborhood. Cars whooshed through the rainy streets. Their headlights reflected in the open water pooling up on empty sidewalks.  Emily stopped by the market on her way home from her job as a foreclosure administrator and picked up items needed to prepare dinner.  She knows for sure that her boyfriend Kevin will like this one. He says he likes her cooking, but she is sure he only tells her that to appease her. Emily pulls up to the walk-up she has rented for the past two years. She notices the same white cat she sees every day, dashing for cover behind the garbage cans. “I forgot to take the trash out again.” She thinks to herself. Her job has her stressed. Emily Doliva was a mortgage broker until the economy fell apart. She got laid off, but has now found a position cleaning up the mess that, in her own small way, she helped create.  “I hate carrying trash down two flights of stairs; maybe I can get

 I had just stopped for a smoke break when the UFO landed. It had been a slow night driving a cab in Grover’s Mill, New Jersey and the fog had settled over a lonely meadow. It was a perfect place for some peace until the streak of light appeared. The craft settled silently as it landed. So quietly that the local dogs didn’t make a sound. I stood there a bit stunned, when an opening appeared in the dark, semi-smoldering craft. From it drifted a being that looked like a kewpie doll encased in a six foot high jellyfish. Rubbing my eyes, looking and rubbing them again, I tried to visually decipher what the hell I was looking at. When it was close to me, I felt an unnatural calmness. I should’ve been going into fight-or-flight mode. My brain was telling me to do just that, but my body was serene. It was kind of soothing and enjoyable like a superb Indica and a glass of calming red wine. There was a trail of slime from where it had traversed the meadow to the side of the road where I was s

My feet are cold. I tried to pull them back under the covers. But, no matter how much I try, I can’t get them covered. This is weird. The sun is up and glaring through the windows, so I throw the sheets back and twist myself to put my feet on the floor. As my eyes adjust, my knees are eye level. “What the hell is going on?” I stand up and look down. The bed looks like a postage stamp. My dog usually gets up at the same time. He’s awake, but instead of smiling and wagging his tail, he cocked his ears up and he’s looking at me sideways like the RCA dog. Still disoriented, I head to the bathroom and forget to duck until the last second. Did the house shrink? I enter the bathroom and look in the mirror. “Holy shit! I’m Kevin Durant !” I stand up straight to look at myself in the mirror. I’m so tall all I can see is my torso. I put my arms out and flex and realize I am now an adonis! Cool! What to do? Imagining the possibilities is sensory overload. First things first. I have to find someth

A hospital orderly with a wheelchair arrives with the nurse. “Okay Sarah, we’re ready.”  Mike asked the nurse, “Is it okay if I go in with her?”  The hospital orderly gives the nurse a quick look.  “Getting stitches is a minor procedure that may take a little longer than you think. You mentioned something about food a little while ago and you could go now if you like."  “I will be fine. Have something to eat and I will text you when its over.” Sarah said. Mike leans over and gives Sarah a peck on the forehead.  “Okay. Please text me. I’ll see you when you get back.”  They took Sarah out of the room. Mike walks to the exit and heads out of the hospital.  As he walks through the waiting room, his eye catches a young girl.  She’s around 9 to 10 years old. Her face is white, and she has dark bags under her eyes.   “She looks haunted,” Mike said to himself.  Mike exits the hospital. He looks across the street and sees the 24-hour diner that the nurse recommended. Mike jaywalks and dash