Monthly Archives: September 2014

I wasn’t sure what to make of the emails at first. It had been a quiet week for the most part up until today. First the reporter Kip Mooney comes knocking, then we discover my stalker Diana Sturgis (who I can’t stop thinking about) has been combing the neighborhood in search of a tarantula ridingContinue reading “MANTULA Part Fifteen: An email from a saint”

“Find that he’s slapping you, all the time. But that’s okay ‘coz he’s so rich And you ain’t nothin’ but a Dopeman’s bitch.”   – N.W.A. The reporter, Mooney, and Diana Sturgis wandered off together after agreeing to exchange phone numbers. I turned to go back inside our crappy little apartment, still holding the man’s business card.Continue reading “MANTULA Part Fourteen: Hey, Dopeman”

It didn’t take Glenn long to check his email, but he busied himself for a couple days by surfing the Web. He’d been a quail for a year, so most of his friends had long ago given up on hearing from him. As he told me, many had given up on him once he startingContinue reading “MANTULA Part Thirteen: The stripper comes back”

     Surprisingly, there was something different about me compared to most tarantulas. I had skills those others could only dream about.      There was also the depressing fact I am a man, containing the intellect I possessed back when I had two legs and two arms, a neck, and a belly button. That’s not whatContinue reading “MANTULA Part Twelve: Super Doug”

Gagged on pop culture, polluted by depression, comes Mantula! A special fiction series! NEWS: Don’t forget to check in to “Mantula’s Crappy Little Apartment” the next time you happen to be playing around on Facebook while visiting lovely Cottonwood, Arizona. Maybe you’re having drinks at the Chaparral Bar near downtown, or hooking up with someone on Tinder,Continue reading “NEWS: Now everyone can check in”

We made our way up the wet stairs leading to my crappy little apartment with little incident. Monsoonal moisture pounded Cottonwood and we were both elated we’d soon escape the torrential downpour pelting the rundown Arizona city. I knew the front door would be locked. I always locked it. Even on a drinking binge, suchContinue reading “MANTULA Part Eleven: Touring the Crappy Apartment”

Rain fell in icy sheets the morning we escaped from the crazy woman’s house in Cottonwood. I could feel the monsoonal moisture seeping intomy body and creating a slick, watery layer between ManQuail and myself. Every drop that hit my body felt like an icy stinger shot from heaven itself. The downpour continued all morning,Continue reading “MANTULA Part Ten: Doug and Glenn cross the street”

It had been a long time since I’d seen a beautiful woman take her clothes off. It had been so long that I had a difficult time remembering when exactly, but I remembered the feeling immediately, that sexual mix of shock of awe. Shame played a small part as well. Usually when a woman took herContinue reading “MANTULA Part Nine: For Mature Readers”