Digital Art by Stephen Michael Whitter and Paul Warren
*Original versions published by Dumpster Fire Press
“Everyone Is Happy Nowadays”
It seems absurd to be writing that I'm lost for words but…
A lady wrote to me, just the other day, informing me in a complimentary way that reading my work often ‘spoiled her day.’ It seems to me that the remedy is clear, a word often teamed with steer.
But upon reflection, I saw what I was hoping for was a compliment, and even though it ‘spoiled her day,’ she still just could not stay away. I hope I'm not reading too much into her words. I do try to write happy and believe me, the lack of joy causes me to and to be cursed.
I do smile, I do laugh, and, as much as the next man, enjoy a joke, a prank, a caper.
But I just can't put it down in words you want to read on paper.
“Sunday Every Anxiety”
Sunday evening. I know, last warning. Monday is approaching. Last chance to keep or not, this job. This job I like, but the job Anxiety is threatening to rob.
My boss, I know he has phoned my doctor—the boss’s PA is my friend and so not as discrete as perhaps she ought. Of course, the doctor couldn’t give out personal information, but these two are ‘friends at the lodge,’ so after a couple of large gratis shifters, my doctor implies I might be a sniffler not a grafter. So, he is bringing that implication with implications back. I’m going to persuade him to give me the sack, that’s if there’s no going back, no reference, but I can live with that. If I quit, well no benefits back.
No money. No rent. No flat.
So, Anxiety has grown and peaked on this Sunday. Watch out, but head down, look away. Jobless, homeless ‘madman.’ Coming your way.
“I Would Rather”
I would rather you kept your real, your true feelings to yourself and perhaps your 'inner circle,’ a discreet distance away, away from me. I'm not squeamish, you understand. They are rather like horror novels I don’t enjoy reading, so I leave them on the stand.
I don't need to read up on something I already understand. Just as Scholar would not spend his hours, swotting a subject on which an exam he recently passed.
As for 'horror stories,’ I have lived 'the practical' and the theory. I could teach the class.
Your feelings are like Humble Pie. Always half-baked. Or they are 'in the style of' or 'based upon,' not drawn fresh from the tap but scooped from the stagnant bowl below. A tale embellished for a Summer's poolside skim. A cut and paste sensation—not full and unabridged—suited to a Winter's night in. Not a tome, not a piece of work to be read, with light dimmed by the fireside, within curtains pulled tight, so no eyes can spy on the reader or the page.
Where the truth lays in wait and in print for anyone with a stomach for it....
BIO: Stephen Michael Whitter , sixty years old and now in exile on the Isle of Wight, has been writing intermittently for forty years and has been a contributor to literary magazines like Dumpster Fire Press. He has also worked in the mental health field as a Psychiatric Nurse.
“I have recently started writing again and collaborating with artist Paul Warren which has given my work a new lease of life.” SW
BIO: Paul Warren is an artist and illustrator from Daventry, UK with an interest in Surrealism , Abstract and Punk art . He works in multiple mediums, including collage (including digital) and Photomontage, and is a contributing artist at Dumpster Fire Press. His work has also appeared in The Odd Magazine, Word Vomit Zine, Vile Bird Journal, and Fevers of the Mind Press. Paul’s work has also been featured on several book covers.
Paul can be found on Instagram @thewatchmanart.