Dr. W. A. Frost's Ides of Revolution

  I had no idea what was coming my way. My neighbor Troy always seemed to look right past me anytime we were near. I mean, if I were him I guess I’d be staring right past my ear too. I’m the definition of adequacy. I work a 9 to 5 at the Verizon store, always have a couple of beers at the bar down the street after work, and am in bed at a tight 9:30. Troy, on the other hand was 6′2 with chestnut hair, an adorable smile… He really was the typical boy next door back home from college. Evidently, his junior year at LSU treated him well, since every morning since he came back he’d been out in his garage, door open, and deadlifting in the south Louisiana heat. He’d gotten ripped. I could wash my towels on those washboard abs! So you can imagine my surprise at seeing him wave at me that one Saturday morning before work. Had I not forgotten my keys in the front door, spilled coffee on my seat, and left my lights on the night before, I wouldn’t have been so late that morning. Consequently,...

  You can’t believe it. You are face down in an alleyway, your wallet being shuffled through by some mouthbreathing guttersnipe, pain ringing in your ears from the unexpected blow to the back of your head. New Orleans was a dangerous city, and all the tour guides had warned you to never walk back to your hotel alone at night. But after more than a few shots on Bourbon Street and a few hits of ecstasy, you were not exactly in an awakened state of mind. That is how the pathetic thugs in this town operate anyway, preying on the weak and hoping for whatever scraps are leftover from the bars and strip clubs. As he ruffled through your wad of twenty dollar bills, you sense a shift in the air. Someone is standing above you. Perhaps it was another neerdowell ready to finish you off, and yet… As you turn your head ever so slightly to the left, expecting to see a steel toed boot or some form of intimidating footwear, there stands what immediately looks like a bare foot. Are your eyes deceivi...

  “Maksym, is that you?” Sam waved at the tall, muscular figure in the black leathers and helmet. Being neighbors for so long, it was inevitable that he and the Ukrainian would either come to blows or strike up a friendship. Fortunately, Maksym was an undeniable, irresistible stud- so to the normally cold and standoffish Samuel might have fallen ever so slightly for the stoic young man.  “Yes,” Maksym replied in his thick, bass-laden accent, “is new leathers for new bike. Cannot wear old, beat up white ones with shiny new black bike.” Though muffled from behind the confines of his black helmet, his commanding voice still bellowed proudly. He stared at his Instagram-model next door neighbor, with a slightly different perspective. Back home in Kyiv, people were proud, stolid, lionhearted. Their flat affect and fearlessness was a cultural expectation, and while he didn’t mind his uppity neighbor per se, it would be more accurate to describe his feelings as mild annoyance. Sure he...

  Pete stood on the side of Sunset Boulevard, on the cusp of the dark alleyway he’d been instructed to wait within. The Sanguines were the gang to impress, so if he wanted in, he was going to do whatever was necessary. He’d fully expected to be a mule of some sort, likely bringing a nice bag of weed back from Tijuana up his butt. The intense California sun bore down on him, drenching him in scorching heat and an orange-hued light. Dusk was coming sooner rather than later, and he’d hoped that whomever was testing him would arrive before the streets got too seedy. How ironic… Pete was not the type to join a gang. He was whiter than paper. Skim Milk was too spicy for him. He rocked out to Celine Dion in the car on the way to the location. He worked as an insurance adjuster, and that was “really exciting” for him. I could go on, as I have plenty more of these, but I’m sure you get the gist. After the sun had just begun to set, with the hazy, orange dusk painting the sky, Pete felt a sh...

  Kevin hated Jonas. Most kids who are bullied hate their aggressor, but Jonas was a special type of bully. Kevin had expected as college juniors they’d grow out of the adolescent bullshit, but Jonas had not done so whatsoever. He knew that Kevin was queer, president of the school’s Diversity Club, and very militant around his beliefs; which gave Jonas plenty of material to work with. After coming back from wrestling practice, he’d tease Kevin with his sizable bulge and impressive muscles knowing full well that he was the type of man that Kevin lusted for. It was impossible not to look when they were in the midst of their spats- truly a public spectacle for all to see. So to all onlookers, it was shocking that Kevin was in the stands at the wrestling meet. To Kevin, money spoke louder than anything, and a crisp $100 bill spoke volumes. After all, he could use a nice injection of funds for his rent. All he had to do was meet up with Jonas after the meet, pick up his key, and watch h...

  Jake sat on the edge of the halfpipe, twiddling Josh’s hematite ring in his hand. It had been only three days since Josh’s passing, and Jake was devastated: the views had plummeted. Of course he loved his brother, but he also loved his yellow Lamborghini just as much and the payment was coming up. It seemed that people tuned into the Rayna brother’s show for just that- the Rayna brothers. One was simply not the same without the other, and that truly affected the show’s humor, tone, & talent. How was Jake supposed to dance, joke, and misbehave without his dumbass brother? After the accident, the only thing the flaming semi truck left behind was Josh’s hematite ring, cast more than a couple yards from the explosion site. At least he went out like he lived- doing something incredibly reckless and stupid for the views. So there he sat, loitering in the skate park long after close, waiting desperately for the view count to exceed 500,000. Now, being alone in a major city at this t...

  His prey sat quietly across the classroom, oblivious to his insidious agenda from afar. True he was one of the most well-respected kids in school: sports star, gorgeous, stacked, hung… There wasn’t a lady or a guy that didn’t want to either be him, or be with him. And yet, even at the top of the mountain, being so far removed from everyone else started to weigh down on him. No one was ever on his level. No one could ever fill this void of broish fraternity. Not even his teammates could match him, and this bothered him immensely. So, the devious jock hatched a plan. This kid had a crush on him. It was so obvious that he even toyed with him constantly. He’d be caught in the locker room without his shorts on, he’d forget his deodorant one day, he’d kick his shoes off and lounge in his seat, he’d ride past on his motorcycle… Each time getting a kick out of this boy who had a serious affinity for him. This made him the ideal target. He’d be getting exactly what he wanted… And it’d be ...