Thursday, December 22, 2016

Christmas Observation

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Christopher (front) and Nico Disney cruising on the Dream. (Nov. 2, 2016)

December 22, 2016


Observation is a good skill set to have when you’re a police officer. The skill is honed as time on the job progresses. And it becomes a very good tool that officers can use while they are on patrol when being on the look out for unusual or out of place things.

On a Tuesday evening at around 5 PM I was parked in the parking lot of a gas station. I parked my police car in a good spot that would allow me to feel safe while I did my paperwork and I was able to watch the people come and go from this very large and busy fueling station.

My eyes trained on a guy in a blue shirt. He was around 6 foot 2 inches, thin, his white skin was weathered, his hair receding. His eyes were as blue as his shirt. I could tell he was tired even though he hadn’t left since the last time I saw him at around 8 AM that morning. While I stared at him from the safety of my police car I noticed a man hand him a beer as the man left the convenience store. The read the blue man shirts lips mouth, “thank you” and he cracked the beer open and took a gulp.

I pulled my car forward and parked. Got out of my car and walked over to the man in the blue shirt and started a conversation.

“Dude, you can’t drink that in front of the store. They are going to call the police and have me trespass you from the property.”

“I know man. It has been a long day for me.” My blue shirt friend said.

Cars kept coming and going out of the parking lot. People walked past us and only gave us glances as they walked inside. It is a busy Christmas season for sure.

“What’s your story man? Why are you on the streets?”

“This man,” he said holding up his beer.

“How old are you? You aren’t that old I can tell but time hasn’t been good on you.”

“I’m 40,” he said with a sip of his beer. “I want to be better and I burned a lot of bridges I’m just not strong enough to stop this.”

“How many rehabs have you been in? And how many bridges have you burned?”

“I have been to too many rehabs to count. But I can tell you that I burned 2 bridges. My mom and my brothers bridges are gone. They won’t help me now.”

“It’s Christmas have you thought of reaching out?”

“My mom is going to bring me dinner later. My brother, well, he’s another story. He has helped me many times. Too many times and I have hurt him the most. I have stolen from him and argued with him and he won’t deal with me anymore.”

I leaned up against the railing. The smell of gasoline filled the air. The Florida weather was too warm to enjoy the Christmas spirit of music that was blaring out on the overhead speakers.

“I can’t change your life in this 10 minute conversation when your loved ones have tried to do in a lifetime,” I said looking beyond his receding hairline and over at the people that were walking inside the store.

“But you can plant a seed,” he said.

My eyes locked in on him thoughts ran rampant in my mind trying desperately to say the right words that may help me cultivate any advice I give him that will help him survive another year on the streets.

“I have 2 sons.” I said. “I love them with all my heart and I would do anything for them. But there comes a time that I won’t be here to help them make a good decision or even the right decision. But imagine if you were my son, even though we are the same age, and I would look at you and say, ‘you son, are worthy of so much more in this hard life. Nobody can help you fight the demons that run rampant in your soul. Only you can fight to get healthy because no one cares more then me.’ I don’t know if that will help you but I do know that life goes quickly make the right choice.”

I allowed him to finish his beer. He looked at his watch and he said, “I have to go get food from my mom. She still feeds me.”

“You’re lucky you have a mom. Wouldn’t it be nice for her to have a son?”

He got on his bike and we exchanged fist bumps.

“Your kids are lucky to have you as a dad.”

“It isn’t luck. It’s hard work to raise those boys. I just want the best for them. And if I didn’t want the best for you I would have just told you to get off the property before you go to jail.”

There was a tear in his eye. He wiped his face and drove off on his bike. I turned away. “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas” began to play on the radio. I got into my police car and called my sons.

“Daddy,” the little voice said on the other end of the phone.

“Hi, son, I love you and your brother,” I said.

We talked about nothing but it was everything for me. My boys were still little boys. And my little boys had the world at their fingertips even I could see how lucky I was from my safe parking spot in this busy gas station.


I would like to wish everyone a very wonderful Christmas or Holiday. And remember to love those who make your world happy. I love the ones that do it for me with all my heart. Merry Christmas!


Pirate night on the Disney Cruise (Nov 3, 2016)

© copyright 2016 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.







Thursday, December 8, 2016

Rock Bottom, a police story

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Nico (left) and Christopher playing footsies on the couch. All kids do this, right? My brothers and sister and I sure did. (December 6, 2016)

December 8, 2016


When was it when he knew that he had hit rock bottom? Was it the cold steel of the handcuffs pressing against his wrist? Or it may have been the unforgiving firmness of the double-strand handcuff metal that rubbed against his wrist bone that caused his dangling hands to stiffen. 

I just arrested this guy. He had crack cocaine. Until this point, this lily-white guy's only crime was wearing a Polo collar shirt, Khaki cargo shorts, and white sneakers. But in his defense, his style wasn't different from any other white guys in 2000.

While patrolling the streets, I saw him walking away from a known drug house. They call drugs dope for a reason because this dope thought he was the only one who knew where to score cocaine at 2 in the morning. The only thing that stood out differently in this neighborhood other than this dude was a house with a nicely manicured lawn.

Looking at him, I knew he was a man in an uncommon time and place for others. He was "committing, about to commit, or had committed a crime." I approached him as he passed under the only working streetlight, that one light that lit the corner of 5th and Main. I could tell he wanted to run. But where was he going to go? He was a fish out of water with nowhere to swim. He was in a pond. He was defeated before I even uttered my first word. I had won. And he had lost. His only place to go was in my handcuffs.

So now here he was in the back of my police car. The crack rocks in his pocket were now in an evidence bag that I rested on the front passenger seat of my police cruiser. I nestled it between my police bag and paperwork. My criminal nestled himself in the corner of the right rear backseat cushion, and his right shoulder pressed against the passenger door. The cost of his freedom rested not far from him while he stared at me from behind the cold steel partition that separated him from me. His freedom slipped by the clear glass windows as my car drove off, passing the very drug house where he bought his addiction that would eventually cost him his freedom. The occupants inside the home were none the wiser about his arrest and did not really care anyhow because they were paid in full. Only in America, a drug dealer can enjoy their 4th Amendment right to commit a crime.

"Where do I go from here," he muttered.

"Do you mean the process of the arrest? Or where do you go from here in this life?" I asked.

I stared at him from my rearview mirror. He was a defeated man. He had nothing else to say, so he stared out the window. His life was as dark as it is night.

"Can you turn up for me?" He asked.

"This song?"

"Please. It just reminds me." His voice trailed off.

"It's your ride, my man."

I reached out to the radio, removing my hand from the 2 o'clock position of my steering wheel.

The guitar intro made the song very memorable. The flute made it unmistakable. It was The Marshall Tucker Band, "Can't You See?"

I nodded my head to strum with the beat of the song. My arrested guy tilted his head back against the flat portion of the bench seat. And he began to belt out the lyrics. I exercised my right to remain silent and drove, allowing him to have this moment. After all, he was headed to the rock bottom of his life, and that was county jail. Was he thinking about a loved one while he belted out the lyrics to this song? Or was the crack rock his woman, "Look what she's done to me." I never asked.

Our drive was just a straight shot with tiny bends and turns. The steel wheels turned on my police car. His steel handcuffs pressed around his wrists. They weren't forgiving him for his sins. But at that moment, he didn't care; he just sang. Silently, I sang with him, mouthing the words to the song without interfering with his fall toward rock bottom. 

"Can't you see, whoa, can't you see

What that woman, Lord, she been doin' to me?

Can't you see, can't you see

What that woman, she's been doin' to me?"


744 words



Dad's being a kid too. (December 3, 2016)







© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Life is Like an Ant Farm

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Nico (right) and Christopher enjoying Christmas early. Nov. 2016

November 24, 2016


I bought Nico and Christopher an ant farm last Christmas. This week, our order arrived! Uncle Milton, the company, is not a crazy family member. Mailed our order that we placed back in March. Better late than never. I didn't know much about farming ants, so I had a chance to Google the process and learned! 

I ripped open the package, expecting ants to scatter everywhere! But thankfully, the ants were in a secure, transparent tube with tape fasted on the edges. Those ants looked menacing. They were rabid and ready to stretch their legs.

The ants were full of activity. Seeing them inside that 4-inch tube is pretty cool. I could only imagine how it would feel to swallow that thing like an aspirin. It was easy to think of all sorts of horrors one could do with those ants. Yikes!

I poured the vile as if it were a pitcher of water. As I tilted the plastic tube, the ants dumped inside. Nico and Christopher watched them scatter like leaves blowing in the wind. The ants didn't think about their actions now that they were freed. Their natural instincts took over, and the ants did what God intended them to do: adapt and survive in their new environment.

The ants immediately assessed their situation and searched for the best place to begin their new life. Once they settled on a plan, I watched them regroup with each other into their designated positions and get to work.

One found the pre-made holes I made for them and immediately began to dig its way inside. Other ants soon joined in and helped dislodge and relocate the little green gel pellets he cut loose. The other ants looked around, searching for other pre-made holes. They found the 3 different holes, and they quickly got to work.

Within hours, the holes got deeper and more comprehensive. The length plunged towards the bottom and then horizontally in the green gel as they dug deep inside. The other ants did the same. They built and created a new home. It took time and patience, but they adapted and survived.

Their determination to plant their roots and make a new home impressed me. These ants were cultivated in some lab and then displaced from a world they only knew. They were shoved in a smaller vile. Mailed. And then removed again from their safety and placed into another overwhelming home. But they did what they did to survive because failure meant death, and their instincts weren't made to die but to live.

We, as humans, can learn from all forms of life. Here, these ants are in the lowest realms of life. They are almost insignificant in the afterthoughts of other living things. In an instant, their life can be ended by the human hand's swat, yet they preserve. They want to live and be productive in their short life spans.

I learned much about ants and how they relate to the human spirit. No matter where we are in life, there are no excuses as to why we can't be successful in what we do. Humans are intelligent, self-aware, and have the ability to rationalize. I may not have known much about ant farming before I bought them, but I know enough about them now to know that in my own life, I will keep fighting no matter where life uproots me. My lesson was more than just an ant farm.


** Today is an American holiday. Thanksgiving. I am thankful for my new life. I am grateful for the people in my life. I am thankful for a job that supports my family. I'm also grateful that I have thousands of people who read about my life after all these years! Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates.


634 words



Captain Imperfecto going to training. Nov. 2016.

© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 





Monday, November 14, 2016

You Get a Do- Over

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Honeymoon Disney Cruise aboard the Disney Cruise ship, Dream. November 4, 2016
Nico left. Christopher right.


November 14, 2016


I wish "do-overs" could be handed out to people like the car Oprah Winfrey would give away during one of her television shows as she shouts her iconic phrase, "You get a car, and you get a car…"


"You get a do-over!!"

"And you get a do-over!"

"And you!"

And so on.

I'm trying to convey that your current situation is not a life sentence. And that if life handed you an opportunity to reset or a "do-over," you should jump on that opportunity. 

People have complicated lives, and stopping participating in society is easy. But being a victim or sitting on the sidelines and watching the rest of the people live their easy lives won't help your current situation improve. Things won't be given to you. Most people aren't born lucky. Your chances of getting a car on Oprah is like winning the lottery. The chances are slim to none. 

When my life turned for the worse, I sat on my hands and felt sorry for myself. Eventually, I found the strength to go out and fight for what I believe in my kids. And I forged ahead, taking my wife's death with me, and attempted to live again with a greater purpose. Why should I continue to feel sorry for myself? No one cares about my success more than me. All my friends have moved on past my loss.

Do I have to subscribe to my misery? I shouldn't when I can acknowledge that everyone has a story to tell about grief and sorrow, but somehow, other people survived it. You are not alone. Every one of us has taken the long road before success strikes. Those moments test our ability to survive and function in this world. So stop testing yourself, believe in yourself, and get it done right the first time. Do not resign to your fate. Just realize that you are worthy of good things.

Did a life lesson set you back? Push forward. Are things harder for you than they should be? Fight back for greatness. Other people seem to be more successful than you? Go out and grab success because no one will care more than what is going on in your life. Don't like the election? Fight for your beliefs, and make the vote count next time.

I can't pinpoint why I have such a hard time getting things I want to be accomplished the first time. Sure, it's easy to write how positive I am in my blogs (which isn't always; read other blogs and see), but acting on those good things is much more fulfilling than talking about them. How do I think better and change my feelings about myself when I fail?


I want to make better decisions to stop negativity in my life. "Achieve it, Chris." But the other day, I still failed when I placed my faith in being positive! That makes me question why I had faith in it when I felt deep down that being positive would magically turn it around.

Where is my motivation?

I look for the good things in life. We all go through some sort of minor bouts of depression that change our way of thinking. That depression can destroy any "rah-rah" pep speech we may give ourselves to talk ourselves into doing greater things tomorrow. Failing after I decided to look at life positively just to be negative gain isn't where I want to be in this life. It's time to be optimistic that life will work out during the times I fail, and I believe that good things will happen for good people when those good people don't give up.

It is OK to fear the unknown when we anticipate something will go bad during our happy moments. It is OK to get your hopes up for something that may not happen because it is the hope that releases happiness. And in that happiness, we find the strength to recover if we don't get it. Not everyone is a winner. People who are winners have failed before, but the key difference is that they learned about themselves in the process of losing and corrected what they needed to fix to achieve good things. For you to win, you must work harder to believe in yourself.

I'm not all words here. I took my own advice. Let you, the readers, know what I have been cooking up over here in my world. I have decided to live life again after the death of my twins and my wife. I must jump on my do-over before life's negativity beats me. By living this life, I gave in and allowed my happiness to take over.

I got remarried.

I never thought a woman could love me more than she loves herself, and never in my wildest dreams would I think a girl would take on the responsibility of a widowed man and his 2 young children. Especially after all the turmoil I caused in my own life over the years since my wife died. The ups and downs I fought through to find this place in my life was the hardest road I had to travel. I found a person who loves the boys and me. I decided to jump on the opportunity by doing a do-over of my life.

The only advice I can give you is to live your life while you're in the present and do your best to learn and move on from the past. Do your best to be positive because being negative is way too easy to dismiss the good you deserve. Live life without hesitation because we will never get younger. 

I'm happy, and I don't have to pretend it is due to Oprah pointing at me and yelling in her lovely voice, "You get a do-over!" I give myself a do-over. I allow myself to be positive, and I will allow myself to enjoy the good things that may be heading my way.

I'm still afraid that my happiness will be sabotaged, so I'm treading lightly. But who am I to stop my future wife's happiness? That girl walked into my life and has made my world a better place. She loves those kids as if they were hers. I accept my do-over and challenge you to do the same and disregard whatever demon you're fighting. Now, that is positive thinking. If this blog wasn't motivating enough, imagine I'm pointing at you and yelling, "You just got a do-over!"



1,085 words








Taking a selfie while teaching a class. Nov. 7, 2016
Don't worry they were on break!


Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Jack's Shadow, a Halloween short story

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The boys goofing around in the van. October 13 2016

*could be intense for some

October 26, 2016


The sterile hallway reaches end-to-end, which must be 200 feet. Every 5 feet, there's an iron door. Each door is fortified to hold back a hideous, sick-minded, or evil person. The facility isn't something you can Google. Other than the locals who are hired to run the place, not many people realize the heinous and brutal death that has occurred by some of those locked in those rooms outside this town of 5,000 souls.

"This door," she said, pointing, "is where we keep Jack." A woman said to a group in the hallway just outside the quiet from the inside room.

Dana is a tall and skinny woman. She is wearing a plain blue polo shirt and khaki slacks. Her tour seemed as simple as a museum guide, but the people with her today are not tourists. They are some of the brightest scientists, doctors, and F.B.I. profilers of homicidal people.

"Jack lives in the dark. We can never get him out of this room on his own without us forcefully tearing him out. There is never any light on inside the room. In fact, any sight of light, even from these florescent ones above, will cause him great pain and terrible anger where he will lash out and kill. Later, we will place him in a lighted cage and show you what happens when he is unleashed."

The group walks down the hall and enters a safe, enclosed room. The 15 or so people sat on the chairs lined up in rows. The rows faced a large window. The window was 6 to 8 inches thick. It was made to be unbreakable.

The room behind the glass was 16 x 16. Fully vaulted to protect the people outside those walls and the public. There was one door that led into the room.

The door was fortified metal. Stronger hatches than what you'd find on a battleship. The only thing going inside the room was Jack. Along with Jack, there was a farm animal, a pig, who was free to roam around the room.

"Once you all have settled in. I will summon Jack. Please, do not move from where you are. You will be tempted to move, but I can't stress to you enough that as far as we know, Jack can not see you, nor can he hear you. You are safe with us. However, speakers here will let you hear what is happening in that room. DO NOT MOVE."

The group looked around at each other, and the tension inside the room began to tighten like a vice, compelling everyone to watch precisely what would happen. 

"I will ask everyone to look under your seats for this demonstration. There, you will find night vision goggles. Please place them on. We will now shut off the lights. You can view everything in the pitch black dark, but when the lights return, you can remove them. The lights will only be on inside the room. We will still be in the darkness."

The guest fumbled around with their night vision goggles. The more experienced law enforcement officers helped, the less experienced civilians wore their night vision goggles. Everyone was tense, but the excitement could be felt within their bones because they had no idea what would happen, but they felt it would be huge.

"Okay, bring in, Jack," Dana announced, "Don't forget to release the pig once Jack's inside."

The group talked to one another, and the sound of mumbling was silenced once the loud clanks of the heavy door began to sound.  That sound announced the doors were being unlocked.

One by one-heavy booms could be heard as each of the 8 locks was slid to the side, which would free the heavy 2-ton door. A creaking sound resonated as the heavy door swung open. BANG!

The door slammed against the wall. The guests could see the body heat of the men and women preparing to wheel Jack in through their night goggles.

"No, no," Jack yelled. "Don't do this any longer. Stop. Just kill me. Kill me, please," he implored from inside his totally sealed cage.

Two men pushed Jack's mobile enclosed cage into the room. Some of the guests witnessing what was happening removed their glasses. They were terrified of the sounds, and yet they saw nothing.  The experiment had not begun yet.

The workers pushed the box against the far side of the room, where they placed it flushed against the wall into a pre-made mold. Clanking noises were echoing as they locked the box in place. Steel rods sealed the box tightly.

"Stop!" Jack screamed. "Kill me now," but Jack's pleas fell on deaf ears while the men and women robotically did their jobs. They had no sympathy or empathy for the hours of torture Jack had gone through over the past year.

After the box was locked, the 3 men and 2 women walked back to the room door. The last 2 men reached back and grabbed the handles mounted on the door. With all their might, they pulled the door shut. BOOM.

One by one, the locks were placed on the door until the 3rd lock. That is when all activity ceased. Muffled talking could be heard. A small argument ensued. There was a silence. The guests in the room didn't know what was happening and looked around at each other with wonderment. There must have been a significant problem.

The silence was broken when the locks could be heard by all being undone rapidly. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. The locks slid. The door slowly opened. Then, without warning, a medium-sized pig was slid through the slightly opened door. The pig squealed and ran into the room. The door closed quickly, and the securing of the locks commenced again.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dana began, "we have not been able to account for what you are about to see. We do not do this event often anymore because Jack seems stronger with every new experiment. For more funding so that we can study Jack, we invited you all here today to show you what your money would be doing. Jack could be the ultimate weapon. A breeding specimen with power no one has ever seen.  The money will either tame him or make him useful as a weapon.  Or, we will prove that his existence is not a confirmation of life after death, but we will affirm that there is pure evil here on earth. And by God, we will incinerate him."

The people in the audience gasped. What was Jack going to do? The anticipation was cruel in itself.

"Glasses off," Dana said, "turn on the lights!  Release, Jack."

Jack's cage shook and rattled, but its grip on the wall was too great. The shaking caused the first row of people to jump. The lady on the left of the front row, closest to where Jack was,  watched closely as she saw little bars sliding out of Jack's cage and disappearing into the remolded wall until the door was free.

"I can't do this again," Jack pleaded, "you don't care what you're doing to me. All of you will DIE!"

The light popped on just outside of Jack's holding cage.  His bigger room resembled a large 16 x 16 cubed, clear cage. The glass was so thick it could withstand a .50 caliber round.  The pig was moving around the room. The people in the audience squinted as their eyes acclimated to the bright light shining through the thick glass. As their eyes began to focus, they zeroed in on a basic room.

Jack's small cage was now slightly opened, a 6 x6 cage. The pig roamed around the rest of the room, sniffing its surroundings. Occasionally, they would find a carrot or other vegetable left on the floor for him to feed on. Occasionally, the pig would be spooked by Jack's whining and screaming.

"I-I- can't-t, I-I won't," Jack stammered. His door would slightly wave back and forth. None of the light in the room could penetrate the darkness of the black hole where Jack was hiding.

One Colonel in the audience placed on his nighttime goggles again and leaned toward the glass, hoping he would see a glimpse of Jack, who seemed to be hiding from the light. The night vision glasses captured Jack's bare back. He was completely naked and breathing heavily. His hair was uncut. The length of his hair covered most of his upper back.

Jack's breathing continued at a rapid pace.

"Easy, easy," the Colonel whispered.

Jack's body movement slowed to a calm, breathing form. Without warning, Jack reared his head over his shoulder as if he could see the Colonial. The night vision glasses caused a slight glow to Jack's eyes. His facial hair hid the pigmentation of his face. The Colonel was startled, so he ripped off his goggles.

Dana ran to his side, placed her hands on either side of his shoulders, and lurched him back further. "Colonel James, sir, you must stay out of the light. You cannot cast a shadow. You should not be seen. Stay behind the yellow line."

"Um, well, right," is the only 3 words the captain could muster.

The pig was no longer strolling around the room, searching to eat carrot sticks. He began to pick up his pace and did his best to avoid confrontation. The guest needed help understanding from whom, though? The only other person was Jack. And he has yet to emerge out of his box.

The pig kicked up its hind legs and leaped forward. All four feet landed on the ground. He quietly walked towards the corner of the room. He squealed loudly as he neared the far wall, away from Jack's cage. The pig's hind legs were twisted, and the pig's body was thrown to the ground. The pig quickly returned to its feet and ran towards the window, crashing its body into the glass. It let out a loud wail. The pig tried to run but couldn't gain any traction to move forward. The pig was brought back to the ground by its tail and pulled to the room's length. A dark pig shadow casts upon the glass. The lights in the ceiling were turning off and on at different angles to capture the silhouette of the pig. The pig continued to squeal, but it couldn't get away. The shadow pulled him in other directions until the animal was swallowed into the opening of Jack's cage.

The audience gasped in unison. Some people ran out of the room, but others stayed to watch the finality of the horror they were watching. A woman in the second row fumbled her hands under her seat in her attempt to find the night vision glasses.

She quickly grabbed them, but due to her fear, her hands shook uncontrollably while she adjusted the goggles over her eyes. The light in the enclosed room was still on, but she focused on the deep dark crevasse of Jack's box to try and locate the pig. Not a peep was made from anyone. The woman in the second row got up and walked towards the glass. She wanted to face Jack's cage face-on to see inside his layer.

She slowly walked down her row, using her hands to feel the back of the chairs in the first row to guide her way without losing sight of the cage. She cleared the chairs and walked towards the window and beyond the yellow line.

"Ma'am, you need to sit down, don't cross that line. The room light will pick up your shadow!" Dana announced.

The lady from the second row ignored Dana and got closer to the glass. Her goggles illuminated the dark corners of Jack's cage in bright greens. She continued to walk forward until the edge of the goggles hit the thick glass. She was startled and tilted her head back, then forced her head forward again.

Without warning from Jack, the pig squealed, and the head of the pig came forcefully out of Jack's cage. It smashed against the glass directly at the woman from the second row. It was as if the head was in 3D motion, but the thick glass acted as a protection barrier. She screamed loudly and immediately removed her goggles. Bright red blood cascaded over the glass. The head of the pig was the only thing left. The perfectly preserved head rested on the ground behind the glass before the lady in the second-row feet. She was frozen in fear. More shadows of the pig were cast on the walls and windows. There were big, scary shadows, and they made loud pig squeals that echoed throughout the room.

"Get away from the glass," Dana Shouted! "Get away from the shadows.

The woman from the second row turned to run, but the light above captured her shadow, which caused her shadow to come alive. The woman's shadow grabbed her hair and pulled her back into the lighted area.

"Turn off the lights! Turn off the lights!" Dana shouted.

Dana ran to the woman but would only proceed after the yellow line.  She reached out her hand, grabbed the woman's wrists, and forcefully yanked her toward her. Jack's shadow pulled her back by her hair and snapped the lady from the second row's neck.

Dana fell backward onto the first row. Jack came out of his cage and walked towards his glass enclosure.  He couldn't see Dana, but he knew exactly where she was.  He was waiting for her shadow to appear. His body grew larger than life.  His shadow grew larger than his encasement.

Dana stood up in a trance.  She was in shock.  Jack used his mind to pull her past the yellow line.  Dana was slowly lifted from her feet until her body cast a perfect shadow just before the glass border.  Jack stared at her.  His physical presence disappeared from the cage.  He morphed into Dana's shadow.  He waited patiently to see another shadow beyond her, closer to the EXIT doors.

"I'm free," he whispered to Dana as he violently threw her into the thick glass window, killing her.  He then jumped into the other shadow.

The dark secret was out. Jack's evil could come alive utilizing the shadows of people and animals as long as there was a light source that would cast a shadow. There was no turning back now for Dana and her greed to capitalize on Jack's ability of evil. Jack was loose, and he would shadow-hop through his killing spree toward freedom. Dana was correct; Jack was stronger now and was loose to live in your shadow. Stay away from any light.


2,458 words.




Being goofy myself! October 24, 2016.





© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Channel to Channel Worlds Apart

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Nico standing on the 6th floor balcony with views of the ocean (Oct 9, 2016)



October 12, 2016

I was inside my hotel room, sitting on the king-size bed. The bed was soft yet firm and comfortable. The top of the mattress was covered with a white down comforter, and I was surrounded by plush oversized pillows. I was basically sitting on a cloud of comfortable ecstasy.

My hotel room is situated on the 6th floor on oceanfront property. The balcony had sweeping views of the Atlantic Ocean. The breeze was soft and firm. The forced air would push through the open sliding glass doors, and a whizzing sound could be heard as the air poured through the ivory color privacy curtain. The curtain would sway inside like Superman's cape before being sucked back out.

I lay back on my king-sized bed and cuddled under the covers. The roaring sound of the ocean surf pounding the flat sandy beach filled the room and gave me a natural high. I was in paradise from 6 floors up.

What was I doing, you ask? Watching television, of course.

I had a long day. I was trying to recover from 2 days of non-stop partying. My body was over-tired and fatigued. Yet my fingers seemed to work. I feverishly used my thumb on the remote control to search the television channels for something suitable to watch. 

As I advanced the channels, there were small pauses in between, which allowed me to watch at least 2 seconds of programming per channel before I could flip to the next channel. One a pause, I briefly saw teenagers and men in a camp. One was naked, but of course, the station blurred out his body to provide some sort of dignity. The man was fighting with another man. Due to reflex, I switched the channel, and on the next channel, I saw a couple sitting at a table with a chef at their table, searing their beef to perfection. I promptly switched the channel to see what was happening on the previous channel.

As it turns out, the young man is in a camp in a poverty-stricken country. (I won't name places and races.) In this camp, he is being protected from others in the country who may try and recruit them into gangs and certain death. During communal shower time, he placed 30 Francs and his clothes, toothbrush, and other items next to the wall. When he got into the shower, he looked back and noticed that everything he had in this world was gone. He ran out of the shower and towards the central courtyard, where he confronted the people in the shower with him. He was still naked. A person who owns the camp confronted the boy and the people he accused of taking his possession. The boy continued to argue and shout, begging for his only possessions back. The camp director shouted for the return of his items. Slowly, the boy's clothes turned up. Once he got his clothes, he got dressed in the yard. He got all his possessions back, including his 30 Francs.

I felt happy for him. He got his items back. Feeling satisfied, I switched the channel.  That is where I came across a couple enjoying their table-side cooked meal. They were critiquing the food while they sipped their wine and laughed. I didn't watch for long because I didn't understand the language, so I flipped the channel. While trying to find something suitable to watch on this 42-inch hotel flat screen, I thought about the 2 different worlds those people lived in. One camp was of young men fighting daily to stay alive, and the other couple enjoyed the best life they had to offer them.

"Huh, the nerve of those people. In this world, they are critiquing food and the good life while others suffer greatly." I thought to myself.

I turned off the television and let my body sink into the covers. The cool breeze danced along my face. The smell of the ocean intoxicated my nostrils. At this very moment, at this exact time, I could've been in heaven. I'll give this hotel a 4-star review. 


684 words


Captain Imperfecto on the hotel balcony. October 9, 2016






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