Short Stories and Writings
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Short fiction
Short fiction copyright Phil Musgrave
“What is it Ebe” asked Andrew in a pensive mood?
Ebe “I have a new nose for you.”
“A new what?”
“Yes, Andrew it has a better filter then the one you've got now. So, you might not have to pick it so much I mean there's no mucus.”
“Ebe, I don't know where you got this idea that I pick my nose, don't you know Republicans never pick their nose.”
“Andrew it's a good fit, I measured it to your face it's made of aluminum and has a HEPA filter.”
“Aluminum Might that be a little cold when I'm out skiing.”
“I never really thought of that Evie said I was just thinking of in doors.”
“And what do I do with my old nose I guess that one goes in the garbage?”
“Really Andrew, you know I could keep it alive and in a Petri dish.”
Andrew contemplated his nose growing in a Petri dish and then began to wonder why Ebe suddenly had this concern for his nose. It was as good as any other you might call it Roman, but it wasn't that big. yes, he had to admit the finger fit well up it and he believed getting that stuff out must be beneficial. Ebe was a machine, and her constant pursuit of perfection was beginning to get on Andrew's nerves. Next, she would be trying to replace other more private parts.
There was something to be said for aging with dignity no other friend he knew of had an aluminum nose.
“I am assuming it would tan at the beach” Andrew remarked to Ebe and then added “here lies Andrew’s nose in a Petri dish with flowers born September 23rd, 2026, and put aside for a better aluminum model.
Fog it was in London, it was not in London, no it was fog in Canada. Barth loved fog, but every time it got foggy, his sister’s voice over the phone peevish with anxiety. She practically lived in her car, and fog messed with her mind. “It is not as bad as I thought it would be now that I am driving in it.” Barth’s mind drifted to the subject Fog,
“Private,” he thought, “the thicker the better. Sometimes an angel heralding an abrupt change in weather. Yet as much a part of God's creation as the Robin in spring.”
“Are you even awake? Count backwards from $100.00 taking away $7.00 each time”
“Oh, do not go on with that. I happen to like fog It is part of the world God made
"You and your, God why does God have to be male, I can feel no love form God.”
Both Barth and his sister had grown up in a devoted faith environment. He himself did not have the conceit to question the creator of a Universe that had evolved in time and was still in motion not always to follow the rules of earth-bound science,
“Fog is beautiful like the stardust of the Orion Nebula it is a happy place A part in the time of Gods act of creating a beautiful counterpoint to humankind’s pain of war. “
“You're just being stupid now. Why is God not a woman?”
“Because, my dear sister, God, at least the Jesus we know, was a man”
Why does God allow war.
Barth “human Kind and Chimps and even Lions Make war.