six deaths by ken wohlrob

Six Deaths

Six Sixes by Ken Wohlrob

sixsentences.blogspot.com 2


Each piece in this collection contains a link to an audio version, read by the author.


A Big Top One As her final act, Olga Christofferson, the last of a long lineage of sword swallowers, choked to death on a saber. The circus performers stood around her corpse, ignoring the crowd of screaming children being ushered out by their shocked parents. Maximilian the strong man wailed, “My beautiful Olga! My beautiful Olga!” over and over. “Maybe she gave in to the gag reflex?” the Rubber Man asked, nervously pulling at his earlobe, stretching it to down to the waist. “Bullshit,” the alligator boy croaked, “Olga was a goddamn professional.” As the bearded lady stood behind Maximilian, caressing his shoulder, she silently fingered a small vial of arsenic behind her back. http://www.kenwohlrob.com/audio/sixdeaths/01%20a%20big%20top%20one.mp3


A Romantic One I know that look in her eye -- passion, unbound, unleashed, and unchained. She is my Billie Holiday, every word out of her mouth a beautiful song that brings me to tears. A man of my tastes knows how to draw that out of a woman. I'm not bragging, it is fact, because I love her with all my heart. It's the same heart she stabs repeatedly with a slightly rusted chef's knife from the utility drawer in the kitchen. And I feel my love for her running down my body, spilling on to the floor, as she shouts those beautiful songs at me. http://www.kenwohlrob.com/audio/sixdeaths/02%20a%20romantic%20one.mp3


An Ocular One We called him Dead Eye because of the diseased eyeball, black as a marble and oozing pus. He would do odd jobs -- mop blood off the floor of McCaffrey's butcher shop or burn the corpses of dead dogs at the pound -- for food. Whenever we saw him on the way home, carrying a loaf of stale bread or a tin of headcheese, we'd pelt him with rocks, shouting, "Go back to hell Dead Eye!" He'd run, hunched and lumbering like Lon Chaney, the dead eye staring back at us over his shoulder, crying tears of pus. One time, with the gang cheering me on, I hit Dead Eye in the back of the head with bit o' cinder block, knocking him down the steps that led to his basement hole. Every night, when I can't escape the insomnia, I see his broken body and the dead eye stares back at me. http://www.kenwohlrob.com/audio/sixdeaths/03%20an%20ocular%20one.mp3


A High-Velocity One Thirty-two meters per second seems like forever. There are flashes of light from TV sets and dark anonymous silhouettes. Looking down, far off, I can see her waiting. I left that place up there with nothing on the walls but a crack in the paint that ran from the ceiling to the chipped baseboard. Closer now, her arms are ready to receive me, her legs spread wide. Enveloped in a rush of silence, I close my eyes, knowing she’s there, and trying not to think about the impact of the pavement one second away. http://www.kenwohlrob.com/audio/sixdeaths/04%20a%20high%20velocity%20one.mp3


An Artistic One "How much?!" the nervous stranger asks for a third time. Dropping a brush into a rusted coffee can, the artist replies, "I told you, I cannot sell the painting” "Bollocks, I'm offering an extremely fair price for this nude." Staring at the canvas, fingers reaching out to touch the rough brushstrokes, the artist replies, "Parting with her would break my heart." The man pulls out a small pistol, light reflecting off the gold band on the ring finger, and aims it at the artist’s face. "I know exactly what you mean." http://www.kenwohlrob.com/audio/sixdeaths/05%20an%20artistic%20one.mp3


A Holy One Sid was born on Christmas day and never recovered from it. Whenever he asked why he couldn’t play with the other kids, Sid’s mom replied in a puff of cigarette smoke, “Cause you’re specialer than those little fuckers.” Sid looked nothing like his father, who never spoke a word and often hid in the closet whenever Sid walked into the house. After his father disappeared, Sid's mom started bringing strangers over the house to be healed by the boy. Not knowing what to do, Sid would touch whatever body part that ailed them, often causing the afflicted to yell out strange things and dance around the room. Sid turned 33 on a Friday and after touching three goiters, seventeen boils, and one case of hemorrhoids, walked outside without saying a word and stepped in front of a Salvation Army truck. http://www.kenwohlrob.com/audio/sixdeaths/06%20a%20holy%20one.mp3


About the Author

Believe it or not, Ken Wohlrob lives a very normal life in Brooklyn, NY. He is the author of The Love Book, a collection of short stories now available as a trade paperback, e-book (including Amazon Kindle), and a free audiobook podcast. Show him some love at www.kenwohlrob.com Note: all the stories in “Six Deaths” were written on an iPhone, using the Notes application, over the course of one week. Six days, six stories, and one day of biblical rest.

six deaths by ken wohlrob

Documents