Disappearing Act

He tapped the record button and balanced his phone against a stack of books while his dog watched from the couch.

“Ready, Ralph?” Chad asked as he unfolded the fleece blanket. A mostly silent dog, Ralph acknowledged him with his undivided attention.

Chad stood in the doorway and raised the blanket. He lowered it and Ralph lifted his head. He raised it again before releasing it as he dashed down the hall to his bedroom.

He heard the jangling of Ralph’s tags and stifled his laughter. Then he heard Ralph’s deep growl. He peered down the hall.

The blanket still hung in the air.

“What the hell?” he thought. Ralph snarled on the other side of the blanket as Chad stood behind it to inspect its defiance of gravity.

The blanket dropped to the floor.

Ralph jumped back, uttering a startled bark. He approached the discarded blanket, pawed at it before burying his nose into the fleece. It smelled like his owner now. He turned his nose to the air before settling on it in the empty apartment.


Inspired by all the videos of people performing a disappearing act on their dogs. Decided to take it one step further.


Meteor Shower

In the scope of what was happening, spending all that time setting up the telescope seemed trivial. Meteor showers were usually visible to the naked eye if you could get away from the lights of the city.

Especially if they were miles wide, transforming into giant fireballs upon entering the atmosphere. And they keep coming, a downpour of fiery fists, pulverizing the city in the distance.

Maybe God did exist after all.

Opps. . . .