#mitchell grabois

[gremlincreative-blog]

Glue

Read "Glue" - a Flash Fiction by Mitchell Grabois, on Gremlin Creative.

by Mitchell Grabois

1. As a teenager, he built model airplanes in his bedroom retreat, got lightheaded on the glue, listened to Odetta while he built, listened to Ledbelly, Muddy Waters.

His schizophrenic sister skulked in the hall. Her complexion was pitted and she wore thick glasses, but I found her attractive, an older woman with secret knowledge I would never have. I wanted to be misled. I…

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[gremlincreative-blog]

Heaven

Read "Heaven" - a flash fiction series by Mitchell Grabois, on Gremlin Creative.

by Mitchell Grabois

1. I got too close to Heaven. Angels melted my face. It’s not that they lacked compassion or had a cruel streak—they were just following the laws of Physics. Even angels must follow those laws.

2. Wasps colonized my attic. I had to grab a can of wasp spray from my wife’s hand. She was a farm girl and stronger than me. She grabbed the can back and hit me in the head with it.…

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[gremlincreative-blog]

Gowanus - Flash Fiction

Read "Gowanus," a Flash Fiction series by Mitchell Grabois, only on Gremlin Creative.

by Mitchell Grabois

1. I have lived too long with imaginary friends, and with imaginary paintings. My father told me I was a bum and would always be a bum. That was at a critical stage of my development. Thus, I flirted with becoming a Jesus freak, but didn’t give in. Bob Dylan gave in. He painted his face like Batman’s Joker and declared: You’ve got to serve somebody. Bullshit. The only person…

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[rpdsociety]

I go to the mental hospital in which Vincent van Gogh spent the last year of his life. The woman in the ticket booth tears off my ticket. She’s dark-haired, attractive, with a small tight body and sinewy hands and forearms. She must be a mental patient, I think, whose progress has earned her the privilege of working this ticket booth. It is the only reason I can think of for the frank, deeply sexual look she gives me as she hands me my Euro-change.

PharmA, Mitchell Grabois

[rpdsociety]

Coal is Dickens’ London, air thick and dark, smothering and combustible. Coal is a French bitch and an English maidservant tearing at each other’s eyes. I decry nrgy drinks. I chew coal for extra nrgy. Wind turbines blow a deadly breeze my way.

Garcinia Cambogia, Mitchell Grabois

[rpdsociety]

Neurons fire and misfire, love and hate coexist. Your indifference rolls in like a tide and makes me feel like my heart has been plucked out and set in a gondola. The gondolier picks it up and bounces it on the end of his paddle. He yodels like a cowboy.

Striated, Mitchell Grabois

[rpdsociety]

I am the blackest goat. I cannot swim or ride a bike. After praying, I walk the heath alone. Fog irrigates me as if I am a crop of greenhouse flowers. I consider myself a carnivorous plant. I make myself attractive to meat.

Heath, Mitchell Grabois

[rpdsociety]

I had fanciful sculptures set in strategic places so the customers’ kids might practice being curious and inquisitive, and maybe learn something, expand themselves, not their girth, like those shamefully obese youngsters who, with their ignorant parents, fill their bodies with fast food junk.

Pink Slime, Mitchell Grabois