Hell Is Other People by Danielle Bellwood (books under 200 pages .txt) 📕

for himself. The author, one Phillip A. Nubis, or ‘Phil’ to his friends if he’d had any, was a huge fan of futuristic sci-fi/fantasy alien-abduction cross species reverse harem existentialist romance novels and had been literally waiting his entire lifetime for someone to put one in print before just doing the deed himself. He did not know who bought the fifth copy, but he could only imagine that the reader must have treasured it as the perfect piece of art that it was.

Gillian’s hand shook as she reached for the potentially viral novel. She choked back a dry heave as her fingertips brushed a faint sticky spot on the cover. The dogeared pages were yellowed and even standing two feet away from the pulp fiction, she could smell the musty scent that only came from dropping a book in the bath while reading and then drying it out on the counter hoping against all odds that it would still be ‘good as new.’

“Baby step,” she mumbled under her breath.

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to drop the dangerous object to the floor and back away. The well-loved paperback felt heavy on her palm, as though the curling, discolored pages held more than just words- they held the entire existence of one otherwise unknown author.

“You’re doing great,” Arlo said helpfully.

She fought against her basic instincts and opened the book. The broken spine allowed the book to flop open to an apparently favorite passage. Some poor, sick, potentially mentally ill reader had actually highlighted the paragraph. Gillian read it aloud:

‘Roxie Rona-Roach arched her armored back, her rows of pert nipples jerking in spasms of tingles. The handsome male arachnoid in black spun his curling mustache around his long, nubile digit and said, “Argak. Morbok miu malakak.” She drooled silver strands of slime that glistened in the moonlight…”

“What the shit?” Gillian couldn’t take it anymore. “This is trash.”

“No way,” Arlo said, grabbing the book from her before she could hurl it back into the maze of carefully piled garbage. “That’s hot.”

“Arlo,” Gillian said. “I really worry about you.”

He laughed. The chuckle echoing off the high walls of trash surrounding them sounded to Gillian like nails on a chalkboard. Frightening and horrible.

In an effort to exit the exhibit as quickly as possible, she pushed her way through the maze of lost and found “treasures” to the end, Arlo following along behind her.

In near pitch-black, they stood in front of a raised dais. The area around it was completely clear of debris, emphasizing the importance of what was displayed on the stage. Smack in the middle of the dais stood an American Standard off-white commode with a hand crocheted toilet paper cozy on the tank and a plunger lying on its side. A large easel on the floor to the left displayed a beautifully printed sign with cursive gold lettering that spelled out the words ‘The Ultimate Answer to Life, the Universe and Everything.’

“Woah,” Arlo whispered.

Gillian began to panic. Her reaction no doubt seemed absurd to an outside observer, but the imposing porcelain potty on the dais filled her with a deep sense of dread. As she took in every eerily familiar detail, her eyes fell on a lit, faintly smoking cigarette beside the base of the throne.

“Oh no…” she squeaked, the words catching in her throat. “No, no, no.”

Arlo stepped forward, past the frozen Gillian, and picked up the cigarette. The glowing ember was just a shade lighter than the bright red lipstick ring around the filter. He looked from it to Gillian. Her eyes were wide and all of the color had drained from her face, making the bright red of her lipstick stand out all the more.

“Huh,” he said. “I should probably put this out. It could burn down this whole place. Why would someone leave this just lying around?”

“A lot of famous people have died on the toilet…” Gillian whispered.

“I think it’s symbolic of the meaninglessness of existence or perhaps the inherent beauty of the mundane,” Arlo said. “Simple everyday objects can be elevated to encompass a whole microcosm of ideas and concepts.”

Those were some very big words to be coming out of Arlo’s mouth. Big and useful. They managed to magically snap Gillian out of her trance.

“We need to go.” She walked to the barely visible recessed door behind the stage, turning to see Arlo still rooted in place before the porcelain goddess. “Now.”

“Where?”

“The office.”

“Really?” Arlo said. “Why do you suddenly want to go there?”

“Something just occurred to me. There must be personnel files on both of us with all of our history, background... Maybe we can finally find some answers.”

Arlo’s mouth stretched in a wide O of surprise.

The Handbook

Forever Pharmaceuticals possessed the dubious distinction of being the least profitable subsidiary of HADES Corp International. The corporation’s headquarters were housed in a monolithic structure comprised of black marble and darkly tinted windows that stood at over forty stories tall and took up one whole city block on the southernmost corner of Downtown. With a wide portfolio of ventures ranging from cuttlefish canning to urgent care to entertainment venues, HADES Corp had their proverbial hands in everyone’s cookie jar.

Right now, the rather large accounting department located in the basement of the HADES Corp head office was in a tizzy. The shrieking of simians jumping up and down at their office desks was ridiculously loud, the sound echoing off every available surface.

Roger waited despondently in the center of the room and waited for the veritable shit to hit the fan. The cringe-inducing thump of oxfords on tile, just audible over the clamor, made Roger’s heart rate elevate.

He remembered telling Bertha that he quit. He remembered telling Joe Jr that he didn’t care anymore, about anything. And he remembered walking out of a coffee shop with two cups of burnt coffee that he’d planned on delivering to Arlo and Gillian.

That was where things got a bit fuzzy. When he’d stepped out of Java Joe’s smoked glass