My Cardboard Balcony

R'lyeh by Belinda Roddie I'd praise Cthulhu if only his creator hadn't been a staunch white supremacist and Nazi sympathizer Maybe he waited dead dreaming until his bastard master felt the tentacles growing inside his small intestine After all it takes more than a yacht to the head to subdue a creature worthier of being a god than the racist who inked him

I didn’t mind my job, honestly. Sure, the work was occasionally tedious, and spending all that time in a cubicle did quite a deal of damage to my already out of shape back. But my coworkers were nice, and my boss had a good head on her shoulders. I worked 9 to 5, Monday to Friday, and felt a sense of normalcy. I hadn’t felt that in a while. Of course, that was before my brother called me from prison.