A Werewolf In My Pocket -Short Story by Ryan A. Loera http://universality-buddhkist.blogspot.com/2015/06/a-werewolf-in-my-pocket-short-story-by.html
I was sitting at the breakfast table enjoying a big bowl of cornflakes. I began to feel something wiggle around in my right shirt pocket. Then I felt a sharp pinch.
“OW! What is that?!” I asked.
“Oh, sorry. I just wanted to get your attention.”
I jumped up out of my chair and scanned the entire dining room. Where did that voice come from? Was it me?
“Uh, who’s there?”
“It’s me! I’m in your shirt pocket!”
I carefully took a peek inside my pocket and saw what looked like a miniature werewolf. He was no bigger than a quarter!
“How’d you get in there?” I demanded
“I’ve always been in here. You’ve just never noticed me until now.” It blinked its yellow eyes at me.
“Uh, okay. What do you want?”
“Oh, I was just wondering if I could have some of your cereal.”
“I guess. You want milk too?”
“No. All I need is one small piece.”
“Okay.” I picked up one cornflake and stuffed it into my pocket.
“Mmmm. Yum! Thanks! I appreciate it.”
The werewolf inhaled the cornflake. He made some weird noises while he ate.
“So, are there others like you?” I asked.
“You mean other miniature werewolves?”
It was now licking itself.
“Yes. Are there any other miniature werewolves?”
“Oh, my yes! We are in just about every available pocket.”
“And why am I seeing you now?”
“I don’t know. Only you know the answer to that question.” It proceeded to lick its tail.
“Uh, okay. So, what exactly do miniature werewolves do?”
“We can do lots of things but mostly we help keep away the lint goblins.”
“Lint Goblins?! There are actual Lint Goblins?!”
I decided to finish up my cornflakes.
“Yes. Of course. If the lint goblins had it their way they would just consume every piece of clothing in the world!”
“Really?!” I don’t know why I found it hard to believe in lint goblins. After all, I was talking to a pocket-sized werewolf.
“Okay. So, suppose I were to meet one of these lint goblins. Would it harm me?”
“No. Of course not! Lint goblins are deathly afraid of miniature werewolves and even MORE afraid of humans!”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.” I glanced at my wristwatch. I wondered how long I would have to talk to the werewolf.
“Well, I’d really like to continue chatting with you but I kind of have to be somewhere important.”
I hoped it didn’t take offense.
“Oh, okay. I understand. I will always be right here in your pocket if you ever feel the need to talk.” It began to curl up for a nap.
As I made my way towards the door I quickly realized I was forgetting my jacket. I pulled it off the coat rack and put it on. I zipped it up to my neck and felt a weird scratch.
I noticed a tiny green dot move about the zipper.
“Oh, sorry! I’m a jacket pixie. Can I have some cereal too?”
All words written by Ryan A. Loera
I once knew a guy who did not know me. He was a cool guy. His name was Santos.
He was big and tall and round. So very rotund, fat or uh big boned. Ha, ha. Big boned.
Santos had some sort of memory problem. He couldn’t retain any information other than his own name. But he sometimes struggled with that as well.
Me and Santos were in the same 7th grade P.E. class. I absolutely hated that class and so did Santos. The coach was so annoying! But I guess most coaches are.
Coach Nunez was his name. He was part Hispanic and part priest. Well, that’s what the other students used to say about him.
Coach Nunez was known for quoting a lot of different religious figures. Somehow, he always managed to have ten new quotes every day. Most of the students laughed off his quoting but not me. Every once in a while I would write down one quote that seemed to grab my attention.
“An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.” Coach Nunez said one day after handing out the big red rubber balls for a game of dodge ball. He was quoting Gandhi. I wrote that one down and memorized it.
“Santos, look out!” I shouted.
Santos turned his head to the left just in time to avoid being hit by a ball. It was only an inch away from hitting his nose!
“I’m okay now!” Santos exclaimed.
He picked up a ball then flung it hard at the shortest kid in school. His name was Kenneth and he resembled a frail little mouse.
“Ow! Coach Nunez, Santos hit me way too hard!” Kenneth complained while rubbing his right shoulder.
“Santos! Don’t throw so hard! You hurt Kenneth!”
Coach Nunez scolded Santos.
“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry, Kenny.”
Santos apologized then hung his head low.
“That’s all right, Santos. I appreciate the apology.” Kenneth smiled then sat down on a bench with the other injured kids.
“Ha, ha! Kenny’s gonna’ cry!”
One of the other students, Ignacio, taunted Kenneth. Ignacio was a born taunter.
He wasn’t a bully. He was a taunter. What’s the difference? A bully will usually taunt and physically harm his victim. A taunter will wait for just the right moment to verbally assault his victim. A taunter abhors physical violence but has no problem with using words as weapons.
Ignacio even had the look of a taunter. He was of average height but with a very Mediterranean complexion. I think he was part Greek and part Brazilian. His hair was a dark color, not quite black but not quite brown. He always had it slicked back with the aid of some special kind of hair grease that his uncle shipped to him from Brazil.
Ignacio was also the only 7th grader with a mustache. It was a thin wispy mustache but still a real mustache.
“Kenny’s a cry baby! Cry baby!”
Ignacio laughed and pointed at Kenneth.
“Stop it, Iggy! Leave Kenny alone!”
Janet defended Kenneth.
Janet was quite possibly the prettiest, nicest, and coolest girl in the entire school. I had a bit of a crush on her. Well, just about every 7th grade boy did. Even a few 8th grade boys. Janet had curly red hair, deep blue eyes, glowing fair skin and an awesome smile.
She also had this way of looking at someone, anyone, and instantly connecting with that person’s true self.
“You’re such a bully, Iggy! Stop picking on Kenny!” Janet scrunched up her face and gave Ignacio the stink eye.
“Hey now! I’m no bully! I’m just a taunter.”
Ignacio caught a ball and held onto it for a minute before hurling it at some kid’s stomach.
“Oh whatever! You’re a bully and you know you’re a bully!” Janet picked up a ball and threw it at Ignacio’s face.
“Hey! You can’t do that! You’re not in the game anymore, Janet!” Ignacio was about to retaliate in kind when he was struck so hard in the chest that he immediately fell backwards onto the shiny gymnasium floor.
I turned around and saw Santos standing with a big smile on his face.
“Santos! Look what you’ve done!” Coach Nunez ran over to Ignacio and checked his vital signs.
“A ball for a ball makes you fall!” Santos exclaimed.
Every single student laughed. I wrote down that quote.
All words written by Ryan A. Loera
DO TEENS KNOW 90s MUSIC? (REACT: Do They Know It? Ep #1): https://youtu.be/T1a4gmuCiqU
The dissection of 90’s culture has already begun! This video is why I have started educating my niece and nephew on everything from the 1990’s.
My new kid friendly story, I Don’t Like Bananas, is now available in Ebook form! 🙂
Here’s a short excerpt/preview of my upcoming kid friendly book/ebook titled I Don’t Like Bananas!
Do you like bananas? I don’t like bananas. In fact, I hate bananas! Well, maybe hate is a strong word but I definitely do not like bananas.
There was a time when I did like them. I liked them a lot! One of my favorite afternoon snacks involved slicing and dicing a banana into very small pieces and covering them in chocolate syrup and whipped cream. It was like an ice cream sundae without the ice cream. That’s right… I’m not a big fan of ice cream either. That’s a whole other story.
This story is about how I learned to dislike bananas. It may seem like nonsense to you but to me it totally makes sense.
I have no intention of making you change your mind about bananas. I just figured you and others could learn something from my own unusual experience.
My name is Leroy and this is my story.
Kids have it easy these days when it comes to cheating at video games. They can look up tips & tricks on youtube whenever they want.
In my day, I had to walk ten miles to the nearest Major Players(video game rental place) just to purchase a copy of a gaming magazine that had the correct cheat codes listed in it. Then I had to walk the same ten miles back home.
Kids these days are incapable of appreciating good… cheats-manship.