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Macsorro

I am an artist based in Los Angeles. For the most part I make surreal pop fine art. Lately my ideas are lending themselves as fun little stories. I hope you guys like them. This is just for fun, so keep that it mind. You can see my art at www.macsorro.com, I hope you like my writing.

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Tradurre   13 anni fa

Jackalope Episode 1 of 5 Insolitos, Texas 1870. It was a hot and humid Sunday morning, strange since it rained overnight. The sherif had been awake for a while, he rolled out of bed feeling tired, just a little longer would've made a world of difference. His fur was dirty and wet. He ran his fingers between his antlers and rolled his eyes as he felt his coat was still thinning. He was not the young Jackalope he once was, Insolitos was wearing him out. He looked at himself on a mirror on his way out the door and he noticed the yellowing of his bushy mustache. I'm baldin and turnin yellow, he thought as he puffed on his pipe. No morning breeze as he walked thru town. He sipped on his coffee cup as he walked thru the very small town. He arrived at the crime scene, the reason Bobby woke him up so early, the Smith's home. Average home, middle class family, two kids, no vices. All dead. Deputies Carl, the lizard and Bobby the badger where already there. Carl was silently crying as Jack walked in to the Smith's house. He always did when kids where the victims and Bobby reeked like alcohol. Jack didn't say anything. Muddy foot prints led into the bedroom where Mr. and Mrs. Smith laid dead. Jack and Bobby entered the room, Bobby didn't throw-up for the first time. Jack was proud. Two dead rabbits, one bullet each. Mrs. on the chest and Mr. on the head, self induced from the looks of it. Jack noticed that only the very few last mud prints where the size of Mr. Smith. The rest were gradually smaller. He walked over to the kids bedroom, walked in by himself. Again one bullet each. The smell of alcohol lingered in the air. Jack came out of the room, Carl was back. Bobby was cleaning the mud tracks on the floor. Bobby said Carl asked him to. Jack kicked the bucked Bobby had, splashing the muddy water everywhere. He drew his gun and cocked the hammer. Carl was confused. Bobby stood up shot Carl before Jack took his shot and missed. Bobby closed the bedroom's door, than a thud and a window crash could be heard. Jack knew that Bobby never entered the crime scenes before him, yet it reeked like alcohol and not a single bottle of alcohol was in the Smith's home. Jack slowly opened the door and peeked inside. Mr. Smith's body was laying across the door's foot. Jack pushed the door open, pushing the dead body aside. The window was broken. Jack looked trough the broken window and saw Mr. Smith's dead body on the ground outside, than a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head. Balding, turning yellow and now made a fool, he thought. He heard a thud and his body went limp, he fell to the ground and everything faded to black.

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