Rolli Stuff

The creative world of Rolli, writer and cartoonist.

The Time Has Come…

… for a new cartoon. View it here.

 

 

CALLING ALL BOOK REVIEWERS …

iacwoanCOVER14 If you’re interested in reviewing my forthcoming, full length collection of flash fiction,  I Am Currently Working on a Novel, do contact me. The book – an assemblage of over 70 short short stories of 1-5 pages in length – will be published in paperback by Tightrope Books later this month. Stories in IACWOAN have been published in Geist, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Monkeybicycle, Word Riot, Punchnel’s and other outlets. I’m sure you’d find it a curious read…

4 NEW CARTOONS …

nashville_rw_summer2014

… in the latest edition of the Nashville Review. Peruse them here.

 

 

A New Cartoon …

And this one’s just for you.

 

 

THE WRITING LIFE…

… aka a new cartoon, for you.

 

 

TGIF

For there is a new cartoon.

 

New Toons …

RD_august

Two of ‘em. One in the August issue of Reader’s Digest Canada. Another in the August issue of Reader’s Digest India. Catch them if you can.

 

#HLP!

Aka a new cartoon for you. Concerning that majestic mongrel of yore. View it here.

 

ME-OW

middle shelf review

There’s a brand-new review of Dr. Franklin’s Staticy Cat in Shelf Unbound’s new magazine, Middle Shelf. Peruse it here.

 

 

The Bug-Eyed Lady

“I’m terrified of her.”

My Mistress had been lying in the Rose Parlor, in silence, for some minutes. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

“To whom are you referring?” I asked.

She turned her head.

“The Bug-Eyed Lady.”

I had never met a woman of that appellation. I waited. It seemed probable that my Mistress would offer more information. When asking is not redundant, it is impertinent.

“One time, I was under the piano. The Bug-Eyed Lady had just gone home. ‘Why are you afraid of her?’ said Mother, bending down. I didn’t say anything. ‘Well?’ I still didn’t say anything. ‘I hope it’s not because of her eyes? You know, it’s a disorder. It’s a nervous condition.’ But … I just couldn’t say anything.”

My Mistress observed the ceiling. Like the parlor walls, they are pink in color. She closed her eyes for several minutes. When she opened them, she spoke:

“I was walking home from school. With a friend. She was supposed to pick up something. A package, or something. She picked it up … and we were walking home. We turned a corner…

“And there she was. Getting out of her car. When she saw me … she smiled.

“‘Oh my God!’” I screamed. ‘It’s the Bug-Eyed Lady!’

“She dropped her package, my friend. The woman… Her smile collapsed. She looked … as wounded as a person could look. Something in her fell down. She looked so broken.

“As fast as we could, we ran off.

“The next day, maybe. Mother came to my room. She stood there. She looked at me.

“‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself,’ she said, very slowly. She stood there a long while, watching me. Then she turned. She left the room.

“And I was. I was ashamed of myself. More than I’d ever been. More than I have ever been. I felt so ashamed.”

My Mistress closed her eyes.

“I still do,” she whispered.

 

 

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