Karlitos Thomas
Bio
I'm an old man with a lot of stories to tell because my wife has heard them all and can't stand them anymore. She found this website to shut me up, now I've locked myself in my study. She's literally banging on the door as I write this haha
Stories (3/0)
I Rode My Brother Like A Buffalo But I Don't Care
I remember it like it was yesterday. Ten-year-old me in the shopping centre with my mother and my brother. He was older and fatter than I was which made my idea, at this time, even better. Mother was perusing a local merchants shop and had left us unattended. I was leaning over the balcony of the top level of the shopping centre not far from her, looking down upon the people on the ground floor constantly dilly dallying about like ants whose line had been disrupted by a falling leaf. Once I had become bored of the state of capitalism I turned away from the balcony, and I saw him. There he was: my older, fatter brother; standing in the dead centre of a walkway. Looking around like a wild buffalo on the American frontier who had lost his heard but not so much bothered by it at all. Truly a site to behold. This is what the first settlers in America must have felt like upon seeing this symbolic living entity for the first time.
By Karlitos Thomas18 days ago in Confessions
Tolkien Ruined My Marriage but I Don't Care
It's finally happened. I stood up for myself against the darkness that has seeped from the void. Growing up, I never cared for fantasy. My father would scoff at my little brother reading while we were eating and would say "Books are a waste of time and memory. You think all that make believe will make you more smarter?". That was as close as I ever got to the topic of fantasy. Decades later, my wife and I would sit in front of the television every night after dinner. I never cared much for anything on albeit except for the news so I'd always watch whatever my wife wanted to view which was usually jeopardy followed by cooking shows but as time went on, I noticed she slowly took to reading in front of the television until eventually I saw that she didn't care what I changed the channel to. When I questioned her lack of interest, she answered by telling me that I could watch whatever I wanted.
By Karlitos Thomas3 years ago in Geeks
The Last Dastardly Tale of The Crimson Fowler
He slowly pulled into the empty lot and parked his deteriorating, used car; the finest a senior pension can buy. He sat in determined silence before holding his palms out and staring down at his old, wrinkled hands. It was these hands in their youth that almost conquered the entire world, these hands that brought fear to the people and left authorities trembling in their wake. As he took one last look at his hands, he tried with all his might to transform into the monster he once was, but it wasn’t the sight of his hands or the nostalgia: it was the failures that helped him transform. He curled his hands into fists of rage and went from being a reclusive old man to the dastardly supervillain known as The Crimson Fowler. He checked his utility belt, reached to the passenger seat, grabbed his walking cane and, slowly but still aggressively, got out of his car. Gradually shutting the door, he scowled at the large sign above him: Frozen Pond Aged Care.
By Karlitos Thomas3 years ago in Fiction
