Hell Hound (Photo credit: Lonnie’s Life)
Howling hell hounds at his heels. As he hurdles haphazardly in between the high trees,
his head too hot under his hair,
his lungs heaving for air;
his hopes have a hundred ways to fail.
Hacking has always weighed heavily in his habits. It hardly made him happy, but then, he reflected, habits seldom do. When he hewed through the hospital’s fortifications, he felt like Hercules. However, the horizon of heroics disappeared when he found that they had hoodwinked him and homed in on his home.
He had always hypothesized that people from the hospital where humanitarian, how was he to guess that they were the most hysterical human beings on the planet; humans who released the hounds to hunt down a humble humorist whose only hubris was his attempt to release them from the humdrum of their hopelessly boring homepage by adding a few unhygienic holocaust jokes.
A Bolg? 
The English Gardener
/ May 10, 2013A hundred hoorays – highly histerical happenings here!
W. R. Woolf
/ May 11, 2013I hope you had some happy hours here!