Aaron Horeth

Aaron Horeth in writing!

Damn Flies — June 2, 2015

Damn Flies

“You’re a pretty dandy guy” said the fly on rye.
“To the apple of my eye” said the fly on the pie.

“Stop it! Stop right now!” Edward growled.

“Stop what?” asked the fly on rye and the fly on the pie simultaneously.

“Don’t you ‘what?’ me. You know what I’m talking about.”
Edward was infuriated by the fly’s mocking him.

“How dare they mock me?” Edward thought to himself.
“Rhyming flies I do despise.”
“ARGH!” He shouted.

This startled the flies.

“Now I’m doing it. It’s your fault you damn insects.” Edward spat.
“You’re causing me to rhyme damn fly on rye and you, the fly on the pie.”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” The two insects chirped out.

“Don’t you lie to me, DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME.”

Edward was livid at this point, livid enough that he stormed out of the kitchen. Out of his restaurant and into his garage.

“I’ll show them, those damn flies.” Muttering angrily to himself, he picked up the canister of gasoline that was saved for emergencies. He walked through the front door and locked it.

Stepping back into the kitchen, Edward looked different. Gone was the passion in his eyes. Gone was the lust for cooking that once filled this chief’s heart. What replaced it was anger, raw and pure. Anger and betrayal now coursed through his veins. A fire of immeasurable power engulfed his mind and it would soon engulf his restaurant.

Edward opened the canister. He stared at the sink, dousing appliances, utensils, restaurant goers, employees.
Oven… Doused
Refrigerator… Doused

“What’s he doing?” said the fly on rye.
“Don’t know.” said the fly on the pie.
They were confused so they just stood there, the fly on the pie and the fly on rye.

Edward doused everything he could think of. However, in his rage clouded rampage, he forgot to douse the rye and he forgot to douse the pie.

In one last stand, Edward soaked himself with the remaining gasoline. Oblivious to the panic in the remainder of the restaurant, he lit himself on fire. Everything, the kitchen, the oven, the refrigerator, the employees, the restaurant goers. All of it, burned to the ground.

Everything charred.
Edwards’s remains just sat there.
Everything was in ruins.

The flies however escaped and lived on to rhyme another time.

Just to be Safe — April 22, 2015

Just to be Safe

“Did I wash my hands?”
“You better wash them again just to be safe.”

“I locked my car right?”
“I think so but, just to be safe, you should check it.”
“I’m sure I locked it.”
“Better check one more time.”

“Did I turn off the stove?”
“We should check, just in case”.
“Ok, but we’ll have to unlock the front door first.”
“The stove is off.”
“Are all of the lights off?”
“Yes, they are.”

“Did we lock the door?”
“Yes, do you want to check again?”
“Yes, better just make sure to be safe.”

“Are my car lights out?”
“Let’s check just to be safe.”

Indecision — April 16, 2015


“I’d like to place an order”
“What’ll it be?” The man behind the counter had a rough voice and a rougher exterior.
“Umm…” I was lost, the menu was really big and I needed to make a decision yesterday.

Seconds passed…

“There are people waiting impatiently behind me” I noticed the mob getting angrier.

“I’ll have, wait… I don’t like ketchup. Umm…” The man behind the counter had a look of pure evil on his face.

“Order already damn it”…
“Get outta line, I’m starvin'”…
“Yeah, go home idiot!”…
The mass behind me might as well have had pitchforks because they were about to kill me.

“Argh!” I thought to myself, all of this anger was making it harder for me to concentrate.

And then,

A smack…

I was hit over the head with a blunt object. Someone behind me had had enough of my indecision. They had ripped a table leg off of the only table in the little deli and used it to teach me a lesson. Who was I to stop them from getting food? Who was I to hold them up from their busy life?

I awoke several hours later to find the deli empty. Everyone was gone, except for the man behind the counter.
His hand stretched out to help me up.

“Sorry I couldn’t make up my mind. There’s a lot on the menu and the other customers were making it hard for me to concentrate”. I apologized to the man, I felt like I needed to do that.

“You’re fine, I’m not upset. I’m sorry the other’s attacked you”. He seemed kind. I hadn’t thought he would be the kind type of person.

He walked over to the refrigerator and asked me if I wanted a soda. There was Dr. Pepper there so, of course, I opted for that.

“I’d take a Dr. Pepper”. I said sheepishly.
The man handed me the soda.
“It’s on the house.”

That Dr. Pepper tasted amazing!

And It Always Ended The Same — March 23, 2015

And It Always Ended The Same

“You’re unusually chatty today.”
“I could say the same of you.”

And then, silence. The two stared blankly at each other for what seemed like years. They were pained by the silence but couldn’t think of anything to say. Nothing at all, they were blocked. This was a regular conversation they had had on multiple occasions. And it always ended the same…

Adventure! — February 26, 2015


That morning started out very calmly. They woke up together and stared into each others eyes for a while before actually getting out of bed. They liked to do this as much as possible because they loved each other.

They got out of bed after a while. It seemed like minutes to them though. He got dressed and made some breakfast while she did her hair.

The air in their apartment was sweet and warm. He was making cinnamon rolls, her favorite. When she finished her hair they ate breakfast together. This was not uncommon, they had always had breakfast together. But today was uncommon. The weather had been cold and the sky gray for far too long. And today, it was warm and bright. There were no clouds in the sky. The sunlight shone through their apartment window.

They left their apartment and headed for their car. The car started and the adventure began. The just drove. They drove as far as they could/wanted to.

They came upon this town, it was a beautiful town, full of bright houses and buildings. Everyone seemed nice. This was probably due to the fact that the town was so beautiful and pleasant.

It was about lunch time and they happened upon a diner. They stopped to get lunch. After that, they made the decision to spend the night here. This decision was spurred by the sighting of a bead & breakfast across the street. They booked a bed for the night and went out to explore.

To their surprise, this town was surrounded by forest. There was an abundance of waterfalls as well. Waterfalls being their favorite land feature, they were ecstatic.

They stopped at one such waterfall.

Now, before they had left on their adventure, the two packed their car with canvases, paints, brushes and easels. They walked up to the waterfall with their supplies and started to paint. The area around them was quiet and they were alone.

They painted…

It was getting dark as they were finishing up. She had made a beautiful painting. It represented the waterfall and the life force of the waterfall. Her painting was full of textures and rich colors. It look mesmerizing. His painting was of the waterfall as well, however his waterfall had human arms and there were lobsters flying in the sky.

They went back to the bed & breakfast and slept. They were tired from painting, not a bad tired though, a deserved tired. In the morning they decided that they hadn’t had enough of this town so they booked another night. Then enjoyed some breakfast.

After that, they packed their car with a picnic supplied from the local grocery store. They spent the rest of the day hiking and enjoying their company. When the sun set, they had a romantic dinner and returned to the bed & breakfast. There they watched movies until they fell asleep.

In the morning, they departed. They had had a wonderful adventure.

Is being too different hurting us? — February 6, 2015

Is being too different hurting us?

We are the only ones who know the language. The others either forgot it or never
cared to pass it on. They don’t understand us, we could pass it on, but they are many and we are few. We haven’t got the resources to undertake such a feat.

The writing, the lines and lines of texts, scrawled on papers destroyed long ago. How do we rebuild this once great language. Our libraries were once the envy of the world. They’re gone, completely. Erased, as if they never even existed. Any text that exists is sparse and informal.

Isolation, our means of communication have dwindled. Sure, some of us know other languages, however limited they may be. Our exposure to the outside world was never something that occupied a majority of our time.

It is a rich and powerful language. Before the others, it was the dominant language. Cities were built on this language, wars fought, treaties signed. All in this language.

It fell, as most things do. It fell quickly. The others started pushing their languages, forcing them upon us. As the other languages became more prominent, ours started to dwindle. The others were simpler and more direct than ours. I suppose it was only natural that simplicity would win over beauty and elegance. Simplicity takes less time, time is a crucial resource.

How bad would it be to convert? To join with the others? To make our lives easier? Are we sacrificing our social needs just to be elegant and different? Is being too different hurting us?

The Umbrella — January 11, 2015

The Umbrella

An umbrella can only go so far when it’s carried away by the wind. If it happens to hit the side of a bus on a busy street, then so be it. Maybe the umbrella bounces gently off the bus and against a taxi. Maybe a pedestrian (as silly as they are) picks it up. Whatever the outcome, the fact still remains, it is raining and gray.

I think the umbrella doesn’t really have a place.
This umbrella has a mission however.


Yes, mission!

The mission, how could you have forgotten already? The moment described above is now about to be shattered. For the umbrella, at least for today, has a role. It’s role…


Upon colliding with the bus, scaring the driver, the driver, in turn veering into oncoming traffic, the oncoming traffic hitting the bus, the bus lighting up, fire consuming it, the taxi that the umbrella chose as its next victim, after hitting the bus, crashing into the silly pedestrian (along with several others), the pedestrian collapsing, panic, fire….


Lasting only a few moments, the chaos subsides. Mission accomplished. Elated, the umbrella has fulfilled its duties. But there’s a lingering sadness. The umbrella was waiting for more.

Where was the death?
Where were the riots?
What about the buildings?
Why are they still standing?

That day, a single umbrella caused so much to happen. But was it enough? As the umbrella was engulfed in the flames from the result of its mission, a tear of melting plastic wandered down its rib as if it were expressing woe.

The umbrella is gone.

The Fate of Ignorance — January 9, 2015

The Fate of Ignorance

They traipse along with melting crayons, flotsam at the foot of the beach.
“Oh, to be a wave carrying jellyfish to the edge, where the salt meets the air” said one to the other.
“Why’d you want to do that?”
A query rose from the suspicion of the ludicrous statement thrown into the air waves.
“I severely dislike jellyfish” was the response.
“Why, what did they ever do to you?”
Awestruck, this was his reply: “What do you mean? What did they do to me?”…

He had developed the distaste of Jellyfish at a young age. Twelve to be exact. He couldn’t even remember what exactly the crime had been that turned him against those delightful and sometimes poisonous tentacle bearing beasts. In fact, when confronted on his abhorrence towards them, his answer was usually in the form of some kind of stereotype.

“They’re smelly.”
“They take up too much of the ocean.”
“Those damn opportunistic predators, eating whatever they come across.”
“Pretentious tentacle bearing fucks.”
“Save some plankton for the whales… Bastards.”

Indeed, the list went on, mostly in the form of something similar to the above insults. His hatred had become a product of his ignorance multiplied by his youthful experience (diminished as it was). Did he really even hate jellyfish anymore?

“Do you listen to yourself?” another query from his friend.
“Yes, of course…” the irritated retort.
“Pretentious fucks, I hate them all”…
“But you haven’t even said what they’ve done to cause these feelings of malice.” a justified response from his friend.
“I don’t need to prove myself to you.”
“Are you siding with them?”
“How dare you! Are you insinuating that I am lying?”

Brandishing a dagger, he smote his friend. Spite had taken control of him. He went empty with rage. His friend was now dead; the life had been taken from him just because of the jellyfish.
“It’s your fault. You damn tentacle bearing demons.”
“I hate you!” there was no reasoning with this logic.

Because of the jellyfish, his friend was dead. They caused him to whirl into a fit of rage.
“You’ve done this to yourself.” a voice from nowhere, invading his eardrums.
“Stop, you don’t know that. You don’t know anything.”
“You killed your friend over your petty angers.” it was that voice again.
“Stop. Stop right now.” nobody was on the beach.
“I’ll get revenge.”

Throwing off his clothing, and running into the water, he broke the waves. Diving, swimming, dagger in mouth, he swam towards the smack. It was then that he felt the cold of a thousand tentacles binding him, constricting him.

He went blank again…
But this time it was eternal.