And There Was Ninja Moustache (Chapter 61)

    I followed LaShawn along the tunnel. It dipped and narrowed. Above us, the drumming cracks of machine gun fire ceased, leaving only the rumbling drone of the tractor tyre. LaShawn quickened his pace and began singing “Lump” by The Presidents of the United States of America.     At the end of the tunnel, he... Continue Reading →

And There Was Ninja Moustache (Chapter 56)

    A nearby burst of gunfire sent a family of cockatoos shrieking away into the night sky. In that moment, to my surprise and great relief, my mind became clear and focused on the job at hand. My bowels, in contrast, responded to the life-or-death situation by attempting an immediate evacuation. I managed just barely... Continue Reading →

Why the Donkey Never Runs (Part 9)

"Please," said the Clydesdale, her eyes to the ground. "Samson is my friend. Please, just let him be. Fergus, go back to the henhouse. Winston, please forgive the cattle dog's ignorance." "Forgive me?" said Fergus. "I won't have a chicken lord it over me!" The young hen pecked her head forward at Fergus. She clucked... Continue Reading →

Why the Donkey Never Runs (Part 8)

A blanket covered the donkey from his shoulders to his tail, and in front of him lay a small pile of straw and two carrots, untouched. Henry approached slowly. "Samson? Did you stay here all night? I missed you at the hill this morning." After waiting a silent minute, the piglet wandered around. He inspected... Continue Reading →

Why the Donkey Never Runs (Part 5)

"The best thing to do," said Fergus, "is go to the far side of the dam and jump in from the bank, where the ground is high." Henry looked doubtful. "To make it convincing," Fergus said. "Convincing?" "Yes. You want Samson to believe you need his help, right? Well, then you can't just wade in... Continue Reading →

Why the Donkey Never Runs (Part 2)

That afternoon, Henry roamed around to the front of the farmhouse to see the cattle dog, whom he considered his best friend. The cattle dog considered the young runt something of a plaything, similar to how the cat would view a dead mouse. Beneath the eaves at the front of the farmhouse was a narrow... Continue Reading →

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