Bullet Points

Bullet Points

One day, I was slumped in my comfy couch

bored

and I thought to myself

What can you do with a bullet?

As it turns out, you can do many things with

a bullet

eat the bullet

hug the bullet

paint the bullet rainbow

burn the bullet (can you?)

hide the bullet in a pile of spaghetti as tall as Mt. Fuji

throw the bullet on the ground for a hitman to find, and make his day if it fits in his gun

carefully ingest the bullet (don’t forget to chew)

spin the bullet on your finger like a basketball

beat the bullet into bloody submission

sleep with the bullet under your pillow, but don’t blame me if your mother confines you to your room for the next five weeks

 tap dance on the bullet (don’t tell me you can’t)

feature the bullet in your next film project

feature the bullet in your next art project

feature the bullet in your next band concert, somehow

feature the bullet in your next juggling performance (if you can’t, that’s totally fine)

consume the bullet with conviction

sell the bullet…to a craft store

duplicate the bullet and re-enact the Matrix

mail the bullet to your best friend in Florida

feed the bullet to a mob of hungry zombies (it’s their favorite meal)

vaporize the bullet

poke a very tiny hole through the bullet

take the bullet on a rollercoaster ride

put the bullet on a plate, sprinkle it with caviar, and enjoy it as your next meal

wish for another bullet for Christmas so that your bullet may have a friend

carefully peel the bullet apart and examine its insides

tear the bullet apart and open a hole in the time-space continuum

visit the time-space continuum created by the bullet

if the bullet is a time-travelling bullet, make it take you back to the time of the dinosaurs, but don’t forget a camera—if you’re going to brag to your friends about the time you rode a Velociraptor or the time you slew a T-Rex, you’ll need visual proof, right?

But be sure to put the bullet in every picture you take

for added proof.

Irony is a Joke

“I want to be the first person to sneeze from pepper, slip on a banana peel, fall down a spiral staircase, and die!”

The three girls’ joyous giggles echoed across the expanse of emporiums as they strolled to the candy shop, making up whimsical death tales that even the Grim Reaper himself wouldn’t believe along the way.

“Hey, Sofia, has it ever bothered you that we’re always joking around about dying?” Sherry fidgeted with her jacket strings, glancing warily for anyone who would think they looked suspicious.

“No way!” Sofia sent a sassy smirk in her timid friend’s direction. “It’s gonna take anyone a good while to finish us off!”

“Just think about it, Sherry,” Eva fell in step with her friends in the front. “We’ve got a lifetime ahead of us. Don’t sweat the small stuff and just enjoy life!”
She grinned and broke out into a dash. "Now get moving! You guys are so slow! I’m going to get all the chocolate pretzels before any of you do!”

“Oh yeah? Challenge accepted!”

As her friends bounced around the racks of candy like playful puppies, Sherry remained still. Somehow, she felt uneasy.

At that moment, her thoughts stopped.

“Sherry Devonshire.” The name trickled out like thick, creamy molasses. A boot pressed roughly against Sherry's cheek, firm as a paperweight. "You've changed a lot, old friend. Thanks for cooperating quietly; my job doesn't allow any margin for error."

“Sofia! Sherry’s down!” Eva’s horror-struck face gaped at the auburn-haired girl, who promptly swatted Sherry in the back with her silver crossbow and leapt away, disappearing into the floor below.

The two crumpled beside their friend as the crowd around them went into a panic, some screaming for medics or the police.

Sofia’s hand brushed a tiny round bullet.

It was silver.

A Unique Bite

I am a cake, colored like a rainbow I consist of many hues, many sides to me
colors that people like
colors that others don't


they layer on top of one another:
A passionate red,
An enthusiastic orange,
An energetic yellow,
An envious green,
A melancholic blue,
An arrogant purple...
I am conscious of my outward appearance
As I have so many colors
I feel that I stand out
I cover myself in a blanket of frosting,
An attempt to blend with other cakes around me
But I know I'm different
I know I can never be like them
Never be them
I'm always standing out
Always unusual
But I accept that fact
And admit that
Not every cake is the same,
We all have our very own flavor.