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Abstract

mina sees it, but she opts for some more dead body banging. I think she’s having a blast for once.</p><p id="f5d3">The ceremony clearly doesn’t go as expected. Fuck the notebook, I’m perplexed.</p><p id="0689">Blood starts to spill and mixes with the rhum. We chant diabolic rhythms, rhyming with hum.</p><p id="22ce">The body elevates slowly, surrounded by pixies.</p><p id="39da">We start reciting the penultimate passage. For us sapiosexuals, it is a rite of passage.</p><p id="91de">Up in the air, the pixies put on surgical masks and split. Two teams for two skulls. The craniectomies are perfect. We eat Aunt Jemina’s brain, and the pixies replace it with our beloved dominatrix’ one.</p><p id="dd9d">The ritual is complete. She can speak. ‘There’s a method to my madness …’</p><p id="6073"><i>This story was co-written by <a href="undefined">BichoDoMato</a> (<a href="https://readmedium.com/about-me-version-6-2-bichodomato-3614968d79a0">Le Bicho</a>) and <a href="undefined">Smillew</a>.</i></p><p id="ed19"><i>It was our 2nd tale! YAY! Thank you for another crazy ride, Bicho. :D</i></p><div id="69a1" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/space-frankfurters-a615a6f7fc48"> <div> <div> <h2>Space Frankfurters</h2> <div><h3>Playing the game in yoga mode</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*YAnrVt_ZYHRrrhqsDCYADA.png)"></div>

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    </div><p id="8c4a"><b><i>The Two Headed Horse Tails concept was co-created with <a href="undefined">Fox Kerry</a>.</i></b></p><p id="c2b1"><i>As Fox (poet and digital art expert) describes it, Two Headed Horse Tails can be a tug of war. Two people (one of them could be <a href="https://readmedium.com/you-58d96a4764f1">YOU</a>) are trying to get a tale into the corral, sometimes even against each other’s will.</i></p><p id="311f"><i>Here are the rules (follow them or break them):</i></p><ul><li><i>300 words total.</i></li><li><i>Someone starts and writes 50 words. Then the other takes the lead and writes 50 more. Till the 300 count is reached.</i></li><li><i>You can switch back and forth as to who starts the piece. (or not! We do.)</i></li></ul><p id="8aef"><b><i>What about finding yourself another horse writer and giving it a try?</i></b></p><p id="c273"><b><i>Tell us a tiny tale, filled with heart.</i></b></p><div id="4820" class="link-block">
      <a href="https://readmedium.com/updated-submission-guidelines-d4a2008092a1">
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            <h2>Updated Submission Guidelines</h2>
            <div><h3>As we grow, our mandate grows with us</h3></div>
            <div><p>medium.com</p></div>
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            <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*ZZe8xvlJkIeCTSXNsQVG0Q.jpeg)"></div>
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There’s a Madness To My Method

Aunt Jemina has a delicious brain

She never finished her sentences. It annoyed me. Really. Utmost.

Was it a trick? Was it her way of freaking us out? Or was it to make us think better? I presume she was a brain dominatrix. Torturing one neuron at a time.

Then: ‘There’s a method to my madness…’

These were her last words. She left us seven days ago, and we’re here today to celebrate her memory. Today, we’ll share our favorite unfinished sentences. Today, we’ll eat hotdogs and drink rhum, as she always did for breakfast. Today we will be the sapiosexuals she wanted us to be.

Aunt Jemima unexpectedly starts banging the dead body as if the resurrection was possible. This is uncomfortable, especially with wasted rhum spilling in the air.

The irony of dying in the middle of a sentence… How will we ever know?

Suddenly, a small notebook falls from the deceased left pocket.

I don’t need to open it. I know the pages are blank, but for the penultimate. I placed the notebook myself yesterday. I wonder who will pick it up. Aunt Jemina sees it, but she opts for some more dead body banging. I think she’s having a blast for once.

The ceremony clearly doesn’t go as expected. Fuck the notebook, I’m perplexed.

Blood starts to spill and mixes with the rhum. We chant diabolic rhythms, rhyming with hum.

The body elevates slowly, surrounded by pixies.

We start reciting the penultimate passage. For us sapiosexuals, it is a rite of passage.

Up in the air, the pixies put on surgical masks and split. Two teams for two skulls. The craniectomies are perfect. We eat Aunt Jemina’s brain, and the pixies replace it with our beloved dominatrix’ one.

The ritual is complete. She can speak. ‘There’s a method to my madness …’

This story was co-written by BichoDoMato (Le Bicho) and Smillew.

It was our 2nd tale! YAY! Thank you for another crazy ride, Bicho. :D

Space Frankfurters

Playing the game in yoga mode

medium.com

The Two Headed Horse Tails concept was co-created with Fox Kerry.

As Fox (poet and digital art expert) describes it, Two Headed Horse Tails can be a tug of war. Two people (one of them could be YOU) are trying to get a tale into the corral, sometimes even against each other’s will.

Here are the rules (follow them or break them):

300 words total.
Someone starts and writes 50 words. Then the other takes the lead and writes 50 more. Till the 300 count is reached.
You can switch back and forth as to who starts the piece. (or not! We do.)

What about finding yourself another horse writer and giving it a try?

Tell us a tiny tale, filled with heart.

Updated Submission Guidelines

As we grow, our mandate grows with us

medium.com