I’m posting an old fragment of a children’s story that I wrote but but never published a few years ago. I have another children’s story that I might (one undetermined day in the future) publish. It’s the one of which I’m proud. It’s the one by which I’d like to be remembered. And it’s the one based on subject matter that isn’t, well, disgusting.

But I have a friend in the biz who once told me, “Kids love gross. Seriously, that’s their frame of reference for humor. Farts, burps, oozy, dripping monsters … the yuckier, the better.” Which is why one day, while sitting in a doctor’s waiting room, I wrote this little story on my phone. The protagonist is a big blob of …. you know what? Just read it.

Oh, and sorry. Blame MamaKat. She issued a writing prompt requesting for “a blog post you didn’t publish.” You asked for it, MK.

Carl the Booger

There I was … clinging desperately to the wall … when I saw the fluffy fabric coming to cover the hole. It was my only window to the outside world. Then, everything went black. I readied myself for what I knew was coming. The force was amazing. It was like a giant vacuum sucking everything to the surface.

But not me.

“Maybe next time, suckers!” I screamed defiantly. But when I looked around me, I realized I was alone. I was the only man to survive. “I must head north … and go deeper, ” I thought. “To the sinuses!”

 What?

Well, I never claimed it would be Shakespeare.