Jack Nanuq
Bio
Mr. Nanuq makes his living as a Private Investigator, hence the avatar and pen name.
Author of “Parabellum; When you Live in Peace, prepare for War”
JackNanuq.com
Writes, just for the hell of it.
Enjoys walks in the woods, with a chainsaw
Stories (16/0)
Sex and Venom
“Pleeease…In the name of Sweet Jesus, explain to me what just happened.” I looked across the room at my captain and took my time answering. The space between us was thick with the smell of cordite, fear, and adrenaline. The room was decorated with shattered glass, vegetation, and snake parts. A wisp of smoke leaked from the muzzle of my shotgun. Eight spent hulls littered the floor like giant plastic and brass tootsie rolls. More than 200 BBs had decimated the aquariums, or whatever snake habitats are called.
By Jack Nanuq2 years ago in Criminal
Sex and Death at a Highrise
One day Saint Peter is sitting just outside the Pearly Gates Welcome Center, enjoying a moment of peace and solitude. On the other side of the wall, CHAOS and PANDEMONIUM reigned. A common misconception is that life inside Heaven is ALL peace and tranquility. In normal times you’d be correct, but these days Heaven is nearing capacity.
By Jack Nanuq2 years ago in Filthy
An interesting day at The Pearly Gates
Saint Peter is sitting in the kiosk at The Pearly Gates Welcome Center, enjoying a moment of peace and solitude. A common misconception is that life inside Heaven is ALL peace and tranquility. In normal times you’d be correct, but these days Heaven is nearing capacity. things behind the wall are noisy and chaotic. He had just sent out a directive that might help bring things back to some sort of normalcy.
By Jack Nanuq2 years ago in Fiction
Venison — The Stuff of Life
The .270 barked and the small buck moved unsteadily. Something foreign had just punched into its side. The deer attempted another step and fell forward; it would expire in 30 seconds. The shot had overwhelmed his system and the brain would shut everything down momentarily. It drifted into unconsciousness and passed away painlessly.
By Jack Nanuq2 years ago in Earth
GREEN BANANAS
GREEN BANANAS It was noon-thirty and the frail woman pushed her cart down the produce aisle. She had just come from Church and Confession, as was her daily ritual. Those who knew her could not understand why she felt the need to go to confession as often as she did. She was the salt of the earth, and no one could picture her as a sinner.
By Jack Nanuq2 years ago in Longevity
Life's A Bitch
LIFE’S A BITCH BY: Jack Nanuq Lt. Col (Ret) Henry Mirh was attacking the earth with a vengeance. The ground couldn’t be described as dirt, or even soil. It was a conglomeration of roots, rocks, and rubber-like clay. He swung the pickaxe over his head and let it fall, thunk 2001, again thunk 2002, again 2003. At a count of 2009 he had to stop and take a breather. With each swing he loosened a fist sized chunk. In the past the three hours he had only been able to move two feet below the surface. This ground was giving him a workout. His hands were beginning to burn with the advent of blisters. He wished the going was easier, but he would finish this task. When he set his mind to something nothing would or could stop him. Although 70 years old he still had the frame of a lumberjack, or more accurately the frame of a Special Forces Warrior. On most days he could do his 100 push-ups without breaking a sweat. But today was different. Today he was using a set of muscles he hadn’t used in years. During his career he dug numerous holes, fighting position, latrines, even a few clandestine graves; just like this one. By the end of the day THE BITCH would be taking a dirt nap.
By Jack Nanuq2 years ago in Fiction
The Smokepole
The SMOKEPOLE The man stood there and thought about his place in society. He was Generation X. Everyone had cellphones, microwave ovens and iPads. They demanded instantaneous results and he hated this. People no longer appreciated things as so much could be had with so little effort. In times, not so long ago, a person’s efforts more or less determined their net worth. Real work was required for real results. Not so now, people didn’t even use cash anymore. Everything was plastic, or wire transfer, or God forbid Bitcoin. What the hell was that? And if there weren’t enough funds in the banks you could just borrow it.
By Jack Nanuq2 years ago in Earth
The Chicken Farmer
THE CHICKEN FARMER The moon was full, the month was February, and the air frigid. The farmer was awakened by poultry distress cries and cackles. He knew instantly a fox or coyote was in the hen house. Snow and ice had blocked the door open, and he hadn’t had time to get it fixed. An unspoken voice screamed in his brain that he had to protect his birds from this demon.
By Jack Nanuq2 years ago in Earth
