Douglas Benzel
Bio
Hi! Thanks for stopping by my little virtual place here. Writing has always been a hobby of mine, so I decided to share some of it on Vocal. Enjoy!
Stories (5/0)
Orbits
There she was…unexpectedly. She was eighteen years old and ripe with youthful perfection. I was nineteen and back home living with my parents again after my first year of college. There was little to do in that three stop light town I had grown up in other than drink beer and play video games. I was pretty good at both. I was at a friend’s house that sticky summer night when she showed up with a gaggle of friends and a bottle of rum. The Super Mario Brother’s game I was on the verge of beating suddenly crashed. “Fuck!” I screamed as though my life actually depended on rescuing Mario’s princess. I couldn’t remember my password, so I decided to abandon the game.
By Douglas Benzelabout a year ago in Fiction
The Choice
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. “His room,” she whispered. “His room…his room…His,” she hissed to herself as she tugged at the earthy entanglement of her hair in a useless attempt to comb it.
By Douglas Benzelabout a year ago in Fiction
- Top Story - April 2022
¿Còmo?
¿Cómo? After several weeks of failed attempts to scour Clyde’s funk from every nook and cranny of the Handy Bus, the City Manager, in a moment of low blood sugar and caffeine overload, gave Don his walking papers. With a hearty slap on the back and a robust “Better luck next time,” Don found himself meandering through the town’s streets in his trusty ’74 Ford Pickup with rusted bumpers yet new tires anxiously scanning for any sign that hinted at employment. Main Street turned him down and so did 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and all of the avenues named after trees or dead Presidents. As each block passed, Don’s eyes sharpened their unemployed gaze to a hawk-like edge. Through his cool mirrored sunglasses, he could even read the titles of smutty magazines with quarter-baked stories about Hollywood’s newly crowned royalty as he rolled past the store front windows, but he didn’t see the sign he was searching for, “Help Wanted.”
By Douglas Benzel2 years ago in Fiction
