Memphis Fast Fiction Home
Shawn Wolowicz

There is no home like the house on Willett I grew up in.

This might be an obvious statement, but it really was special.

You see, my house had monsters. And every night as I went to bed, we would go to war.

Shrieking banshees and clawing imps lived in the walls, tormenting me with their constant howling and scratching.

A werewolf made his nest in our attic, dragging his claws and dripping his slobber on the boards above my head.

Frankenstein’s monster lived in our basement, howling and rattling his chains every time he got too cold in the winter.

For years, I slept under my blankets, a flashlight my only protection against the things that went bump in the night.

But then I got older, and I started to help my father around the house.

I helped him fix the drafty mouse holes in our walls, to patch leaking, rattling pipes in our attic, to replace the antiquated furnace in the basement.

As I worked with my father, the monsters started to disappear, one at a time.

Then, one night, they weren’t there at all.

In that house on Willett, my father had taught me to slay monsters.

Memphis Note
Every house in Midtown Memphis has its own set of monsters. They are the unique noises old homes make that you can never quite decide if they are your pipes expanding…or something horrible living in your walls. I find children that survive these monsters to be of a heartier, more assured stock than those that grew up in monster-free homes.

Amanda Yarbro

“You know that point where you’ve been drinkin’ for so long that water starts to taste sweet?”

The man in the white lab coat fiddling with the illegal protonic accelerator tried his best to ignore his unbathed, apocalyptically inebriated roommate.

“Cause, yeah. Man. That’s about where I am right now.” His roommate said, as he tried to put his half-drunk beer down, instead spilling it into the gluon collider, causing a shower of sparks and x-rays to erupt out of it.

And that was it. That was the last straw that broke the patience of the man who was planning to destroy the world.

“Do you know why I abide you, you miserable waste of vital heavy minerals? Why I allow you to constantly eat the food on my side of the fridge and ignore your ejaculate stains on the couch? Because it is cheap to live here! Cheaper than any where else I could find! But, so help me Einstein, that does not mean that I’m not above pulling your brain out of your pathetic little skull and sticking it in a mason jar on my shelf!”

After that, his roommate never offered him a beer again.

Memphis Note
One of the best things about Memphis is that living here is an insanely good deal. You have fantastic spaces for rent at bottom-dollar rates, some of the best food on the planet, culture and art lurking around the corner to jump all over you, and neighbors that you probably wished weren’t so comfortable with dropping by unannounced. You know, the perfect place for a mad scientist practicing his craft.