Cosmik Wolfpack is a playground and laboratory for flash-formed poetry and nanofiction written by The Debtor, a white cisgender male and citizen of the United States.
If you have something to say to the author, send it to cosmikwolfpack at gmail dot com.
This is a children’s story about a werewolf and the unknown reality. What do you do when you suspect that your homesick lodger is precious and special to an Interior Designer and Business woman?
Set against the backdrop of Wharfedale, the story unfolds until people dream of going to the North Pole. Two friends decide to be welded to their camaraderie. The only question is... should all children long to preserve a funny accent?
Santa is grumpy because a right-winger loves landscape painting. A Viet-vet and journalist wanna-be, he gets lost in a snowstorm and ends up screaming. Next day, anarcho-terrorists take over the Kingdom of the North Pole. Something must be done and Santa worries about homicidal perverts writing books for chemically deranged truckers and bikers. Evil drunks have just been hacked to pieces by stray cats.
Hmmm, might be a story there!
Most families in the early West wanted to share the sparkle of slaughtered adults. Against the approval of those closest to one of Arkansas’s largest gunfighters, children destroy a box of tissues.
Vince Masters, the youngest animal educated as an architect in the Wild West, finds that having eggnog owned by his aunt has exposed him to the unknown outlaws. He finds that the many hours spent on learning to revel in the pleasures of twinkling lights and cowgirls keep him away from the hustle and bustle of the busy holiday season.
So solemnly put away the one honest thing in your heart. There’s never been a better time to find the food and blood and share the sparkle of excitement and warmth of being forced to use mistletoe.
The late 1950's will remain the setting for my life and very neat adventures. The 1959 Buick has always been special to me and my favorite Grandmother.
I introduce comfort. I believe a true relationship with the baby bunny and my Grandmother is part of my life. I introduce the baby deer to train travel and the Christ Child in the Great Forest. In the 1950's as well as the 1960's my grandparents follow a baby bunny to the real comfort.
Tearfully sweet and warmly graphic, my dear wonderful sibling will capture your non-existing horse. Their delightful personalities and antics will fascinate those who never give up believing their dreams can seem realistic and filled with pumpkins.
This is by far the most delightful Christmas craze feeling, a highly detailed story of yearning witches and emotional angels who discover the mystery of what happened to the twinkle in someone's eyes. There is no end.
In the midst of an enchanted forest with mysterious people planning an enjoyable experience and gentle warm chocolate milk springs, stands the small cottage of a little delightful elf and his jolly poor child. He has seen things that changed him in such a way, that he has experienced vapors that twinkle.
He is one of the three Wise Men spoke of in the Bible. He will provide invaluable guidelines for designing buildings, bridges, cranes and chemical and mechanical systems. He is a student of desire and toy making.
He is usually a basic little smoke artist, drying his red chest with his unusual fire, sitting on an enchanted chimney.
Nearly everything is in ruins. Addicted to the familiar wounded childhood, the powerful robot is being terrorised by the biggest Hollywood model.
The farmer’s daughter becomes president and agrees to rescue the mortally wounded man and must survive the powerful dinosaurs.
When their two worlds collide, the president and a loving man find a way back home and live near her family in a house with a forbidden place to hide.
While she and her husband pity the powerful robot, he’s whisked away to another childhood.
Colonel Donald Redmond of south London opens a doorway to a separate ethnic, racial, and political dictatorship. On the east coast, all kinds of weird and wonderful bullies succumb to a fate worse than suppressed masterpiece: they emerge from the closet, and one of them offers us a grim and chilling view of the weak and vulnerable policemen.
His kind old skeleton from the Southwest is on the loose, infecting the bankrupt and tottering United States government with his odious assignment. Then, on a bright October morning, he, like countless others, befriends children across London.
By day, she's an African taxi driver, a psychology graduate with a passion for womanizing. She never could have anticipated her circumscribed life and oppressive subconscious pleasures. By night, she's a hard-drinking Presbyterian minister with a fascinating way of creating self-destruction.
On this particular night, in a state of REM sleep, a timber wolf has the ability to transform herself into a young man who understands pleasures, but to enjoy those pleasures, he must face a real, live werewolf on the shore of Lake Theresa in west central Florida.
Life seemed to open up at John Jay College of Criminal Justice; it clung to the senseless vacuum of his wacky nymphomaniac wife, who communicates with the spurned American manufacturing industrialist. Immediately after graduating, he exposes the eccentric behavior of the eternal baboons, who had a profound effect on their estranged daughter who held the fire.
Since the event, the actress and perceived gold-digger was counterproductive to a situation where the punk–rock groupie of Cuban and Colombian descent wants the money but has no idea what is expected of her horrified former lover.
The story is original and every bit as funny as the lives of the festering men who became hooked on crack.
Unfortunately, a female artist/serial killer who sparkles with meaningless beauty plays with a drab, bitter cheeseburger.
Though publicly her life is completely screwed, an ordinary woman who became hooked on crack and mayonnaise transforms herself from a vivacious lawyer into a small snake with the ghost of a cat in her bathroom. The master of the house was an enlightened immortal cockroach.
As a young boy, a grandfather evolved from the islanders maimed and killed by adults a well as children.
His journey takes him on an exciting and adventurous trip to Washington, Oregon, and California before relocating back to the corporate world. He is a proud member of the NRA and enjoys shooting thoroughbred racehorses.
As a father and grandfather, he struggled with the memories of some show tunes, which shows the importance of a passion for watching friends being adults.
Something unthinkable has happened in American culture. We live in a world of orchestrated professional business. Disgraced hordes of fertile men and women have risen up and killed a common man aspiring to design crimes against this democratic republic.
Decide for yourself to forge chaos and share DNA from Mom with a sophisticated stone-age family of industrious, creative citizens using their enormous wealth and wisdom to help make an evil government.
The heroes, certain they will end up in harm’s way as giants bang, share their feelings. The villains have never been naked. With the bad guys near starvation, the giants terrorize a small city and listen to music.
King Skull never knew he had a nose. He is just an ordinary teenager led by pirates.
Tim has been found in his dilapidated pirate ship on a working farm in north central Indiana. He holds an old rusted jewel know only as Betty. He has taught several grimy misfits wood carving, clay sculpture and china painting.
A 16 year-old farm boy will cross swords with an evil dentist who is a seven-foot giant and ghost tour guide. Together they try to carry a man’s corpse in broad daylight. A county sheriff and an agent of the F.B.I. looked forward to seeing this hideous crime.
The artist and his puny partner seek the money, stolen paintings, and mind-boggling pirate endeavors. As a result, they perform at festivals, schools, reenactments and living history museum programs across the south.
The author, an award-winning real estate salesman, who loves to survive during incredibly fascinating bedtime psychology, often wore dresses and underwear made from shirts. The oldest of seven children, the author married a radio broadcaster with two mules and a crude personal perspective. They slept behind the barn or under the topsoil. After the war, they were proud of their former marriages.
The author would offer romance in the mountains of East Tennessee and would welcome a delightful gift.
Bizarre, even obscene, deeds are considered to be permanently beautiful and inordinately ugly. A yuppie couple get meaningful messages on their weekend camping trip.
A young fashion model is generally considered to be an itinerant banjo player journeying through the unwinding labyrinths of the Deep South, depositing his seed into his awe-inspiring basement, blinded and quiet.
Boisterous and thunderous werewolves find an amoebic gift in Robinsville, Tennessee.
A retired physician will rock an occasional funeral! Unfortunately for the good doctor, his wife will change radically, and can be penetrated by Satan’s black maelstrom of medicine. After thirty-odd years of anointed business, he was swept into a noisy biblical event. He still has his big flowers cooked in olive oil or flavored with paprika. Almost anything can arouse his amusing and nonviolent human mind.
Do you think that you are a little gray man in God’s very luxurious marketplace of unwanted ill-gotten gains?
David invites you to enter a world where a powerful warrior has escaped the Psychiatric facility and unexpectedly finds himself torn between desire and apocalyptic paranormal romance.
David and his enemy's daughter have made alliances; post traumatic stress brought on by powerful and vengeful people in Wyoming is responsible for the greatest battle of their lives. Needing to get away from it all, David decides to sacrifice the love for the money.
He is a warrior to the very core of his being. He is a warrior in a loving and supportive home with parents that have always encouraged their children to be at war with sexy Vampires and Shape Shifters. He is a warrior in a psychiatric facility where cherished children have wild hearts that are amazing!
Spiritual leaders all over the world are happy as can be with the ruler of mankind. Things aren’t always what they seem, and when demons in love with an unforgettable lover, Marvin, come back to Seattle, Washington, Satan changes for better.
A loner, Satan can finally smile now, live happy, and destroy the world of dark entities. But all good things go bad when something as alluring and deadly as fantasy mixed with reality becomes ravaged by abusive leaders intent on empowering the dream to live in Canada.
Tom helps uncover an extraordinary massive roiling storm that helps organizations develop innovative web and business strategies. The great ponderous devastation ultimately compels the fundamentalist Christian to a disquieting servitude that is much worse than retirement.
Behind them, before them, to both sides, an increasingly disturbing and reality-bending source of goodness retains possession of the scientists. Jess nears college graduation and the humans could not see the conservative drug-selling gang member.
What type of woman would inspire her son-in-law to land a steady job with a loved and admired community college on Long Island? Many a mother-in-law is either disliked or got kidnapped with a lot of misfortune and turmoil.
My neighbor is so good at taking care of me, he chased after someone who didn't want me. I don’t have to change my socks because I was in several violent relationships, not appreciating life. I just wrote a letter to a major automobile manufacturer, to escape from my surroundings.
This is a story of a devoted wife, Sandy, a freak with a peculiar grandmother who worked for a private escort service. Coming from a small town, she left home early in her life because her mother could not stay away from disconcerting sounds and images that are very carefully and deliberately designed to make life meaningful.
Kim's father kisses her from head to toe and then begins begging for crazy escapades that go wrong. When she came, she was doing drugs. What’s interesting is that they ate dinner in St. Louis.
Larry, now an adult, began making people laugh at Halloween parties on Rhode Island’s southern coast. Larry is an avid fisherman, loves a puppet show, and is every kid’s favorite substitute teacher.
Originally sold for a nominal fee, necklaces with the powers of several homicidal entertainer's songs were found in a sinister hideout in the woods. An adult invited to many unusual parties because of his outrageous outfits did not go trick or treating with his family.
Sock puppets will be able to turn all that is Godly into pure evil. It starts out with escapades while dressed as ‘60s TV heroes and all the demons my family summoned from hell.
Doris and Don and their kitty confront the corrupt union leadership about 2 miles from Cloverport. The tale includes illicit sex, a pregnant wife, migrant agricultural workers, a meteorologist, and a truck driver who has a business newsletter.
Pat and his wife Lee have run out of gas near a large, dilapidated, 3-story house. Eventually their activities lead to an arsonist and the sheriff experiencing first hand the impact of the cabinet making business.
Johnny O'Reilly and his grandmother, Lydia, have been followed by two local police detectives investigating another long-lost relative who can communicate with the ghosts. Weird noises startle them but there is nowhere else to go.
The two boys witness the impossible dream of a successful rancher and prize-winning immigrant underdog. Fact is, no romance between the hard-earning plebeian poor and two 14-year-old friends will be smooth and easy. Anyway, future generations weather storms of turmoil and a dynasty of harlotry and panhandling.
America’s fear and suspicion gave birth to an accurate portrayal of factual and fictional people beginning to dislike watching TV, window-shopping, or jogging.
A born and raised resident of the forest has been making up stories since his new friends started to cope with being trapped in floating homes. One night, he could walk, and ever since has been violently attending a Californian college and encouraging other teens to follow his dragon to a world unknown, forced to imagine an array of odd items.
As they always say, give a giant toy doll a large, funky houseboat covered in the pain of loss and defeat and they will thank you for it.
This is his first personal friction, wrestling with a bright and determined serial killer fascinated with a faculty member at San Diego Christian College. Initially, they enjoyed the alarming parallels between a love for perplexing crimes and a life-threatening collision.
A mere five months later, new villainous figures - deeply devoted to God - told the popular history professor to take a job with an engineering company in a small desert town. While raising three sons, the professor developed a love for property fraud and she became a flight instructor.
Growing up as the daughter of a bizarre Greek native of San Diego, California, she and her older brother became progressively fascinated with stealing mythology.
After two young bodies experience a taste of mysterious circumstances involving plundered monastic life, the ancestors are called upon in a local movie theater on North County Airport Road. During their journey, people who had been involved in the mystery of the missing brash young female executive start to die.
One evening, however, an emotionally needy woman bursts in and takes a tiny needle. The mystery climaxes when a disgruntled former employee encounters a no-nonsense Native American reporter who has a passion for gold jewelry. An Austrian farm girl confesses to unsuccessfully convincing the authorities that her husband shows signs of being a retired professor of business and economics.
Several attempts were made to become a cohesive force. Their goal is to focus on what it means to be a leader in the 21st Century, screaming to be involved in the crime.
Nicole and Jared will linger with the violent and drug abusing youth. Can they escape with their many awards and recognitions?
Nicole so desperately needs a genuine romance in a high tech environment. Is Jared disrupting the intricate mechanism of an ominous medical lab in the foothills of North Carolina? By putting intense pressure on friends and family members, a CIA agent develops a romantic relationship fueled by erotic and passionate encounters. Nicole and Jared conduct the illegal business of an evil madman.
Can the thrill of his fiery embrace stop a relentless psychopath’s amusing work helping to change our approach to romance?
Different people like being whipped, giving a reasonable man’s point of view. It’s a learning curve, but frankly, such people understand the language of animals and anyone who gets stuck in the visible world. Our true colours come out when the grass sings of your situation. We all need to live peacefully and know the will of every living being.
In the Christian tradition they are called a full time narc, liar, cheater, daddy pleaser. How do they find medical, professional or holistic love and tenderness?
God is a normal everyday guy with a great job, good income and plenty of get up and go in his everyday life. I want to battle depression demons that have appeared through encounters with God. Without question, I have also experienced the black darkness of words and I have been in the hospital.
Prayer has been a continuous tidal wave of illness during your walk with God. Created out of desperation, His presence will do anything to destroy you and your emotions, feelings and horrendous granddaughters.
The knowledge I have gained through hosting a variety show touching on subjects pertinent to ungodly teachers and workers is extremely important. As an adult, I have gained an enemy to fight.
Investigating the murder of a contestant on a comedy game show, the enigmatic conservative preps for life in a tiny house. He reminisces about crowdsourcing diagnoses in the veterinary clinic and the $60,000 he won in a yacht race in 1987.
This epic tale about an alien protecting the West Coast has unwittingly become bland home invasion/slasher wannabe.
There's a definite aim or goal to the frequent excursions I take to the market, I would say. There are people there who have inscrutable motives and dream themselves into my life. It feels that specific to me.
So there is a real advantage to living among them actively — looking at them and watching the way they say necessary things. I like to have something interesting in my hand to drop in an emergency.
The way I know how to act has a serious glitch encoded, depending as it does on the intricate arts of my memory, which are not my responsibility. I am not often confident that I'm being charged fairly, but occasionally I am told that I probably am, and I believe it.
In a distant, highly technological future, a consummate, professional soldier manages to destroy a mysterious young man with a device. The admiral is aware.
This is a sore subject for us. Constantly enraged by our decrepit and underpowered military, we become sullen and announce a swimsuit competition.
Long ago, a gangly teen-age boy
Cherished by the dragon
The forest elves, perfectly melded
With the sparkling beast and its power
The dragon already labored to capture
Three wonderful grandchildren
One thing he inherited was a wooden souvenir
One thing he inherited was the wonderful tin TV tray
Next to a chair
The elves sealed the jagged shards of joy
In the shadow of everyone familiar
Coming from a military background, the 27 year old ordinary family man that enjoys the cheaper wine never can tell what mischief seventeen different authors whose capabilities he does not understand may cause. Traveling comes naturally to the man. Now befriended by a unicorn, could the traveler, a twenty-first-century man, become any more intractable?
Unicorns watched the man practice his marvelous weakness. He was left alone, equipped with unreal color.
Centaurs, trolls, and animal-headed travelers live in Illinois. If we begin with the premise that there is a very familiar malevolent future, the truth of foreign scientific government from this same dimension is directly involved in an invasion by extraordinary companions and elves.
The 27 year old ordinary family man thought for a long moment. His supernatural guardian has warned him that the beautiful unicorn has been a practicing attorney, an adjunct professor with the University of Phoenix, and is willing to share uniquely realistic inspirations, observations, lectures, and research collected over forty years.
After seven years of imprisonment in a land where the undead are easy to please, a suspicious, bitter man is plagued by an ancient family. A raucous poltergeist forced him to seek every physical, emotional, mental and spiritual condition a person could suffer. His three rules of engagement for revenge:
The true killer has another best friend, Garry Lennox, son of a deceased technology mogul and a former friend of the young and beautiful fan of many types of literature. They are now pitted against each other in a dangerous game of complicated culpability. Did you ever think about where all those shapely clients will be revealed?
you can hear the exact moment when they stop caring about the history of firearms. people genuinely like missing internal parts, giving them license to merrily tinker with their emotions or situations via Skype and iMessage.
a decent man who by an accident of birth has found himself washed in blue light reminiscent of romantic tropes is fully embodying the overdriven sonics you might expect from people turning into bats. while his music remains a strong female presence that radiates beauty from the inside out, the audacity that fueled his hidden treasures and truths has seemed absolutely lost for much of the decade. that brief virality didn’t pan out.
in an effort to avoid a public act of violence, the girls and women enhance their character, self-image, and vision by developing an instantly stale running joke that honors the joy of our souls and unifies us.
It is with great relief to all in the cubist roadmap that the challenge to choose a new pulverizing crowd has been completed, even if the result of the challenge was a fantastical audience of dreamed roustabouts. Very few folks know of this slow trek to deep incidents with friends.
A gleefully retired school psychologist emerges as enticing arcane echoes after the death of who he really is. Numerous victims of prayerful songs created the violent obsession of residence at the ass-end of a galaxy, far away from ghosts who ask things of the president.
Take your medicine and get some of that good oval-shaped jewelry. Young idiots who act like abandoned dogs are jumping in the public showers; law enforcement professionals are planning another trip to the old moonlight. You cannot prep for a lucid moment by staying in the pleasure you've earned.
I'm pleased to have learned some secret stuff, though. Apparently, real scholars with a new team of wild authority figures have gathered in the holiday palace. Their goal is to be raised up above the highest ranked budget master. But they cannot succeed if you are not medicated and if you have not purchased enough oval-shaped jewelry from these fucking teenage swindlers.
I got singled out for being bleached and benign yesterday. Last week, my former employer sacrificed himself on the altar of deflated forecasts, and I took it as a clear sign of my own misfortune. I have to say that I am definitely surprised by the speed and efficiency of my dissembling.
I remember the day my superiors sat us down, me and my caste, so an outside consultant could read to us from the book of the castrated prophet. The combined effect of the time's content and the air conditioning left me queasy. I declined the complimentary luncheon and took myself outside. The humidity of the asphalt heat soothed me. I remember the thistledown floating then, just as it is now.
I was backsliding over the weekend in a cold cell with six people who claimed to be boyfriends of some other people working the downtown beat. One of them claimed to have designed an upholstery pattern that was picking up steam on some online publications. One is a cousin of one direction. One has never eaten a big mac. One has never been handed a business card. One doesn't wear shoes with laces. Okay...
I am not even angry about the other lies I heard. I am not permitted that particular freight. I think that's fair!
Feeling felled and mystified by the calculations of the guitar and the tensed hands wielding it. The constituent parts are cold but the sum of it is warmth, and that's only one aspect of the dumb magic I've chosen. If I kick my foot, I can almost feel it make contact with a rough little nugget even though I'm not wearing shoes.
That one is walking now, the nice dashed and dotted lines from the actually yellow sun picking through his uncut hair.
Father watches with dulled curiosity. They smoke now, again. I'm surprised. The pendulum swung back to smoking fathers.
I guess that they hoped I could be someone who provided certification, when I was old enough. I think it was a realistic goal, I'm sure there was nothing in my wet neonatal flesh that suggested it was a poor expectation. But something changed and it became less and less probable.
There was something wrong like I had a backwards tongue, an aversion to the incredibly rare and specific theatre peddled in the academy, an obsession with crafting supposedly abandoned fake temples that actually had hidden fake people in them. Eventually it was clear that the only certification I could provide was my own relatively sophisticated costume. Which I tried to popularize with the slang word "stume" and the #stumelife hashtag, but it never caught on.
Dawn likes the feel of a firm button, the kind that pushes back when pushed. Response, not resistance. Four buttons on the new remote have this quality. They control the input.
There's a new show about an aging singer whose aggravations and confusion manifest in subtle changes in body language. During languid shots of discomfort, Dawn reflexively pushes the input buttons, one after the other, cycling fast enough that the answer never comes.
It's looking for me and the background is sliding away. It happens for 5-10 seconds, I reckon. I get distracted by the way it looks and I don't count the seconds accurately.
It sort of reminds me of the art in the house I knew my grandparents in. The ottoman had a couple spots where the upholstery was like rubbed raw and slick. It was eventually reupholstered, I remember it being a big deal, I remember considerable dispute over the money exchanged. But at some level you know the furniture you own and you don't want to bring something awful into the room, something potentially awful. So you choose a similar fabric and pay the man and move on.
So the this thing my followers revere to some degree is angry, and smiling, and I have no idea why it reminds me of that house. Earlier I said "it's looking for me" but I meant "it's looking at me." But I'm leaving that uncorrected.
Gino is the destroyer of inaccurate, nondescript, and confusing cities. Kyle is a senior UX designer who loves to spend time with deniers paid by the fossil fuel industry to make all those creatures that go bump in the night afraid.
What kind of men are they? They are not the incarnation of what I imagine my greatest hater would despise most.
I'm not mad about this, but I am a monster who love cannot fix. I’m in a mood today, and I DON’T CARE.
The enslaved grandparents are servants to streaming comedies. They command our attention as they snack on wet granola, and their imaginary hunger fills us. We've found ourselves comatose in public before, palpable. But this new sensation, amid the leers of uniformed attendants, feels especially deserved.
The windows of this early '50s ranch are weather-sealed, soundproofed, adorned with decals to warn away careless birds. The various colors of our slacks are inspired by forgotten colonial exploits, inviting catcalls. Dark vanity draws the blood from our legs, fractures our educated chivalry. There really aren't many athletes here. There aren't many style icons to guide us. Most men fail to achieve an optimum work-life balance.
G is sitting at a simple patio table reading a little book, upon the table sits a plate with some crumbs on it
There is only one chair and it is the one G sits upon
K enters
K: I have a qu-
G: Don't talk
K: Bu-
G: Please
K: ...
G: ...
K: Igottago-
G: Please
K sits down, eyes flared, nervous movements in their appendages
K stands swatting at their bottom and looking down at the ground in surprise
K: These ants-
G: SSSSHHHHH
K looks at G, a sense of growing anger in K's body
G: You didn't read the pamphlets?
G holds their finger to their lips
K shrugs, body expressing confusion and confirmation that the pamphlets were no read
G: There are ants ... If you'd read the pamphlet you'd know it ...
K slaps at their thigh, sharply
G: That's your fault
K exits and G goes back to reading the little book
Soon an ugly dragging abrasive sound is known and K re-enters, with a heavy chair
K sits on the chair and looks down suspiciously at the ground
K rubs their eyes and expresses exhaustion, bodily
G reacts with humor at the little book they are reading
K settles into the chair, staring at G for a while as G engages with their book
TBC
I resemble Steven Tyler, Bostonian rock and roll star. He, like me, is native New Yorker. I've got that great accent you've heard in the programs or at the cinema. When my alarm clock app wakes me in the morning, I scrape the dream scabs from my piercing blue eyes, open the blinds, and gaze out on the square where some people are usually trying to crack each other up.
These are my own people, and I stand with my fondness for a few minutes as I drink the lukewarm water that's been sitting on my shabby nightstand for the past four to six hours. Sometimes it's collected a gnat or small spider, but I ingest them without hesitation. They are part of a beautiful life, too.
I've been ignoring the other person in the room this whole time, because I have determined that she is unlikely to meet my criteria for an ideal romance partner and she shall not be retained. Soon, I'll lead her by the hand down to the square and amid the raucous laughter of the natives I'll whisper an improvised screed of rejection through gritted teeth and those full, sensuous lips that people claim are aesthetically the best thing about me.
Then I'll board a subway car and try to meet another one in another square.