Lauren Wellbank

experiences may vary

Tag: literature

A thank you to all of the “loser teachers” I’ve known

“Keep up that fight, bring it to your schools. You don’t have to be indoctrinated by these loser teachers that are trying to sell you on socialism from birth. You don’t have to do it.” – Donald Trump Jr.

I have been thinking about Mrs. Miller a lot lately. She was impossibly nice, had beautiful blonde curly hair, and taught the 5th grade. I can’t remember much of what I learned in her classroom that year, but I do remember how she made me feel: smart, creative, important.

Continue reading

Fireworks and Summer Reading Lists

The Fourth of July is finally upon us. I can tell thanks to the sweet, subtle sounds of shit exploding outside my house. The relentless ballistics begin around supper and continue until well after I’ve passed out for the night #merica.

Don’t judge my collection

The familiar percussion, while equally obnoxious and annoying when you have two sleeping toddlers, serve as a reminder that summer is already half over. And to that I say, yaaaaaay. Continue reading

Not My Ghostbusters, How The Thing Ruined My Childhood

The Thing (2011) Review

The Thing

Burn it!

Review by Kenny Wellbank

October 15th 2011

The Thing stars Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Joel Edgerton, and a bunch of dudes that can speak Norwegian, oh and Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, who is cool.

The Thing failed me. Mistake number one, it’s a prequel to the original Thing, and they didn’t make that clear enough. Everyone thought it was a remake. Mistake number two, all the CGI instead of practical effects.

I don’t even know that I can finish this review. The Thing (1982) was a gem from my youth and The Thing (2011) has ruined my childhood.

2.5 out of 5

The Thing (1982) Review

The Thing

Yeah, fuck you too!

Review by Ken Wellbank

June 26 1982

The Thing stars Kurt Russell, Wilford Brimley, Keith David, and a bunch of other dudes.

What is this schlock? The Thing (1982) is a remake of the movie The Thing from Another World, and it spits in the face of one of the best movies of my youth. Directed by shock and gore pusher, John Carpenter, The Thing is a gross and violent movie that will make you squirm in your seat when you’re not nodding off from boredom.

Instead of making a nonsensical story that relies on grisly death scenes and horrifying body destruction, maybe focus on good storytelling and character development, and try not to ruin any more childhoods!

I wish I could write more but I don’t want to give this movie any more thought and tarnish my memories of The Thing From Another World.


The Thing From Another World (1951) Review

The Thing OG

An intellectual carrot. The mind boggles.

Review by Kenneth Wellbank

April 7th 1951

The Thing From Another Planet stars a woman and some dead guys that talked like old time radio hosts.

I don’t have much to say. This movie is a adaption of the novel, Who Goes There? By John W. Campbell, Jr. They missed the point of the book. They made a mockery of the book. This is just another example of movies looking to focus more on violence and scares to drum up money from hardworking families. Disgusting. Who Goes There? was a favorite from when I was child, and I can say with all confidence this movie ruined my childhood, and it will ruin yours as well.


Who Goes There? Book Review

The Thing the Book

That’s not a logical argument. I know it isn’t. The thing isn’t Earth-logic anyway.

Review by K.A. Wellbank

August 22nd 1938

Who Goes There? Was written by John W. Campbell, JR.

This is a good book. Short. Most sentences were easy to understand. Good for children.


Summer reading lists are BS when you’re a parent

There is something that happens when you become a parent.  Some weird thing that changes your relationship with the space time continuum.  It’s like, time no longer moves as it once did.  Don’t believe me?  Ask any parent you know and they will tell you that once you have kids, time loses all meaning.

I mention this fact, because today is the 4th of July.  Which is odd, since I swear St. Paddy’s Day was only yesterday.

The fourth has always felt like summer’s half way point to me.  Just like Memorial Day is the unofficial start to summer, the Fourth of July is the unofficial middleContinue reading

Carry On – Friday, a short story

This is part of the short story Carry On that is being posted a chapter at a time, Monday October 3rd through Friday October 7th.  This is the fifth and final chapter, titled Friday.

You can view the previous chapters here (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday), or by clicking on the chapter titles in the tool bar to the right.     


The smell hit him before he opened his eyes.  The pain in his stomach had completely taken over any rational thought.  In the early morning hours the sound of flapping wings and claws on the steel of the car pulled him out of his dreams.

Or he thought they had.  When he looked out the window, there was no sign of the nightmare birds.  I’m going insane, a small voice inside his head repeated, I’m losing my mind.

Click click click.

With shaking hands he pulled the picture of Lisa off the night stand and looked at it.  Memorizing the color of her hair (blonde), the shape of her face (a perfect oval), and the small scar under her eye from an accident when she was a child.  He wanted to remember every detail in case he never saw the picture again.  When he was through he stood up and made the final walk out to the kitchen.  The sun seemed brighter than it had all week.  The cool mornings having finally given way to some of the summer heat and humidity.  The smell was stronger now.  Joe looked over at the kitchen table on his way to the door.

Sunday night’s dinner sat there, still untouched.  It was the last meal that he had even attempted to eat.  He had pushed it to the middle of the table when he realized he wouldn’t be able to finish eating it.  There it sat all week, rotting.  Somehow he hadn’t noticed it since then, but he noticed it now.  It buzzed with flies.  Turning away from it he continued to the door.  Both the smell and the sound of flapping wings were stronger now.  At least he thought they were, Joe found he could no longer his thoughts.

Click click click.  Taking a deep breath he opened the door and walked into the blinding light of the morning.

There was only one vulture, and maybe there had only been one all along.  It sat on the trunk of the car watching Joe’s slow progress across the yard and to the drive way.  Once he arrived the bird squatted down a bit and hissed, spreading his expansive wings wide.  Joe did not shrink back this time, or hesitate, instead he came closer yet until the bird relented.  Here, the smell was at its strongest.

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Joe punched the three numbers and waited for someone to pick up.

“Hello, this is 911, what is your emergency?”  For a split second he considered hanging up, that he was making a mistake.  The birds had been an apparition, they weren’t real.  None of this was.  Everything was fine.  He would live a long and happy life, even if he lived the rest of it alone.  Nothing bad was going to happen now.  All of the bad had happened in the past.

Instead he cleared his throat and gave the dispatcher his information.  Without ending the call he dropped the phone on the ground.  It took him a moment to get his hands to work, but he was finally able to put the key into the lock of the trunk.  The familiar sound of the rustling of feathers sounded from overhead and Joe looked up at the birds, all lined up in the tree above the house, waiting, watching.

With a weary certainty he opened the trunk.  He had gotten used to the smell, after all he had been smelling it all week.  However, upon opening the trunk it hit him again like it was the first time.  Fat black flies flew out in spurts.  Inside, the shape was almost unrecognizable.  Blonde hair was matted to a misshapen head.  Hair that Joe knew, after all, he would know his Lisa anywhere.

In the distance the sirens sounded.  The police would be here for him soon but he couldn’t look away from her.  He had to remember every detail.

The sirens came closer yet.

He hadn’t meant for this to happen.  He had only wanted to talk to her, to tell her not to leave, that he loved her.  She didn’t understand, she wouldn’t listen to what he was saying.  It wasn’t the first time they had fought and she had walked out.  But it was the first time that he believed she wouldn’t come back, that it was truly over.  It couldn’t be over, he loved her.  He loved her so much.  So he tried to make her stay.  He did everything he could but in the end she only stopped when she fell.  When she tried to get back up he pushed her down again, and again, and again.  Finally, she did stay.  Now she could never leave.

The lights were just barely visible through the trees as the police came down the street.  Even then, with the sirens at their loudest as the police pulled into the driveway, Joe was able to hear the sound of the birds.  He looked up and watched as they flew away.  Hundreds of them, they cast a shadow over the yard as they rose into the air.

Joe raised his hands above his head as the officers instructed.  They approached him cautiously, looking from him, to the trunk, to the sky where his eyes were still fixated.  He made no attempt to respond to their inquiries and did not resist when they locked the handcuffs on his wrist.  His eyes never left the empty sky.

The arresting officer later noted that the suspect had only made a single sound, and it was as he was placed into the back of the squad car.  From deep in Joe’s throat had come a clicking sound.

Click click click.

The End.

Carry On – Thursday, a short story

This is part of the short story Carry On that is being posted a chapter at a time, Monday October 3rd through Friday October 7th.  This is the fourth chapter, titled Thursday.

You can view the previous chapters here (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday), or by clicking on the chapter titles in the tool bar to the right.     


The first thought he had upon waking was that something was amiss.  Everything was just as he left it, but at the same time, nothing looked as it should.  Although early morning, the light was all wrong.  The sun was too low, too close, too bright.  It was as if it sat directly outside his window, shining just for him.  It hurt his eyes and beat directly into his head.  It acted as a spot light and directed his attention to the worst of the pain.  His throat still throbbed dully, but it felt more like a tether that held together the two real pains, his head and stomach.

Click click click.

Pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes, he rolled into a fetal position.  This was it, he thought, something was seriously wrong with him.  Between throbs of hot pressure Joe wept.  He begged and pleaded for death, for the birds to finally take him.

The birds roared from outside his window.  Dozens of them flapping their large wings just out of sight, causing the curtains to stir.  Causing the air to smell like the rotting flesh that stuck to their talons.  He imagined it, bits of scavenged flesh, stuck on their feathers and claws.  Rising heat was the only warning Joe had before he leaned over and let bile spew from his mouth.  Sweet relief hit him immediately and the burning seemed to recede momentarily to some searing pinpoint within him.

Click click click, came again from outside.  Without cleaning up his mess he rolled back to the other side of the bed and pulled the covers up around him.  There he remained, unmoving and unseeing, as the day went on.

Time passed by and still he laid in that bed, the covers pulled up to his ears, trying to drown out the birds.  The birds that had come for him. The birds that only he could hear. 

The end of chapter four.

Click here to read the final chapter, Friday.

(To receive notifications when the next chapter is posted, follow on facebook at

Carry On – Wednesday, a short story

This is part of the short story Carry On that is being posted a chapter at a time, Monday October 3rd through Friday October 7th.  This is the first chapter, titled Monday.

You can view the previous chapters here (Monday, Tuesday), or by clicking on the chapter titles in the tool bar to the right.     


There were four birds sitting on the car when Joe looked out the window that morning.  He had skipped his coffee and went straight to the sink to push back the curtain.  They looked at him, as though they had been there all morning, just waiting for the curtain to move.  He walked outside and waved his arms wildly at the car, trying to quietly chase the birds away.  One took off immediately, two more fled when Joe was only a few feet away, but one remained, unfazed.  It spread its massive wings as they both stood, stock still, neither willing to make the first move.  Finally, with a hiss, the bird caved in and launched itself unceremoniously into the sky.  Joe’s eyes followed it for a moment before his entire body went ridged.  His mind went blissfully blank as his body stiffened, shook, and then collapsed.

Not much time had passed, the sun was still low in the sky and the air held onto the early morning chill.  At first Joe thought he was still in bed and had dreamt the whole weird scene with the birds.  Maybe it had all been a dream and he would find himself snuggled up with Lisa, both of them wishing for just a few more hours in bed together.

When he turned his head to look at the clock on his nightstand (next to Lisa’s picture), the pain brought him back to reality.  He was still in his front yard, shielded from the street by a row of arborvitaes and trees that he had never known the name of.  The front yard was mostly secluded.  He could have laid there for days and no one would have noticed.  Slowly he sat up and felt around his head.  His fingers came away clean.  Once he was satisfied that he wasn’t badly injured, and wouldn’t fall back down, he rose up and headed back inside the house.

His vision warped in and out on him but he made it back to the bedroom without further incident.  From the safety of his bed he used his cell phone to call the office and let them know that he was coming down with something and wouldn’t make it in today.  Squeezing his eyes closed he tried to make his head stop swimming.  The pain in his throat had also returned but it was nothing compared to the burning in his stomach.  Rolling onto his side he laid in his bed staring at the photo of Lisa.  Outside there was a click click click but he ignored it.  He watched her until his eyes gave out and eventually closed.

Once he was asleep the dreams came.  At first they were pleasant.  They were of the two of them when they first started dating.  The memories that they consisted of were not real, the events had not actually taken place.  They had never stayed in a cabin on a lake, yet that’s where the dreams took him.  The two of them sitting on a dock at sunset, watching as deer came out from the woods and down to the water to take a drink.  Lisa’s head on Joe’s shoulder, the two of them sitting n happy silence.  The birds were flying overhead and into the distance.  Their silhouettes against the sun, casting shadows over the water, gentle chirping fading with the light.

In his room, Joe tossed and turned.  No chirping had followed through his dreams, but there were birds here as well.  Through the window came the soft flapping of wings on the wind and the occasional scraping as the birds touched down outside the house.  Click click click.  Their numbers grew as Joe slumbered on.  He and Lisa, together once more, in his dreams.

The end of chapter three.

Click here to read chapter four, Thursday.

(To received notifications when the next chapter is posted, follow on facebook at

Carry On – Tuesday, a short story

This is part of the short story Carry On that is being posted a chapter at a time, Monday October 3rd through Friday October 7th.  This is the second chapter, titled Tuesday.

You can view the previous chapters here, or by clicking on the chapter titles in the tool bar to the right.     


It was another cool morning and Joe was having a hard time getting out of bed.  The windows had been left open again last night and a chill had settled in the house.  He laid in bed with the blankets pulled up around his shoulders, glad that he had yet to swap out his winter flannel sheets for the lighter cotton ones. To add to his troubles, had woken up with a sore throat as well.   He took a moment to consider calling out of work, he could blow a personal day and just lay in bed for the rest of the day.  Thinking better of it, he kicked off the covers and got up to start his day.

All the bones in his back cracked as he stretched out the kinks from the night before, the crack crack crack the only noise inside the small bedroom.  His eyes flitted over to the nightstand where a framed photo sat next to a glass of water.  Reaching out he took the water without giving the frame more than a passing glance.  There was no need to look too closely at the picture, he had every detail memorized.  The long honey colored hair that hung just past Lisa’s shoulders.  The small scar on her right cheek.  The large happy smile.  Putting the water back on the night stand he cleared his throat.  It took a moment or two before he was able to push the painful memories out of his head.  The thoughts had nearly paralyzed him.  The longing and sadness warming his chest and creating a hot lump that he could not swallow down.  But it passed, he had gotten better at swallowing his feelings down.  The sadness, the anger, the shame.

Joe found himself once again lost in thought at the kitchen table when the sound came.  Click click click through the kitchen window.  He was tempted to stay where he was and not look upon that ugly visage again, but curiosity won out.  As Joe rose he swayed slightly, his vision clouding for a moment.  “Woah.” He whispered as he steadied himself on the back of the chair.  The sore throat from earlier this morning had abated but with the darkening vision the pain came back.  He cleared his throat and moved to sit back down when the click click click came again.  Click click click.

Walking to the window, Joe pulled back the curtain.  The bird from yesterday was back, but he was not alone.  There were now two of the large carrion birds sitting on the roof of his car.  Both of them had turned towards the movement when he pushed back the curtain.  Their beaks seemed larger than they should be as they glared at him.  Joe cleared his throat once more, maybe a little louder than he normally would have, hoping to startle them away.  Instead they looked back at him with mild interest.  The darkness threatened to cloud his vision again as he stood there.  Joe hung his head as he gripped the sides of the sink and closed his eyes, willing the darkness away.  After a moment his vision cleared and he looked out the window, the birds both gone now, as if they had never been there in the first place.  Filling a glass with water he took a few deep gulps and looked warily at his car.  When he was sure that neither the birds, nor the darkness, were going to return he put the glass in the sink and left for work.

The driveway sat empty until dark.  Joe pulled in and turned off the engine, sitting quietly in the dark for a moment before making a move to go into the house.  He was still shaken up from what had just happened in the parking lot at work.

He had felt poorly all day.  The dizziness coming and going.  After considering leaving early to go home and rest, he decided to stick it out.  When the day had finally come to an end and he was able to walk out that door he was relieved.  But that relief was short lived, because as he walked through the semi-dark parking lot to get to his car he discovered that he was not alone.  Something moved quickly near his car.

A moment later his eyes had fully adjusted to the gloom and he saw what had caused the movement.  A vulture had been sitting in the shadow of his tire.  The vulture, having seen Joe, crouched down and spread its wings wide and shifted its weight from side to side, click click click.  Joe stopped in his tracks.  He and the bird remained motionless, their eyes locked together.  A hiss came from the bird, low and angry.  A warning to Joe, “Don’t come closer” it said.  Or, Joe thought, maybe it was saying, “Come on in.  It’s cool in here.  It’s cool and dark.”  An invitation.

Stomping his foot and breaking eye contact he waved the bird away and hissed back, “Get lost.”  The bird held his ground for one more moment before pushing off and taking flight.  The sound of the large wings flapping through the otherwise quiet night made Joe shudder.

Soon, they said.

Each flap issuing the warning, or maybe the reassurance, soon.  Soon.

Now Joe sat in his driveway, trying to shake the fear he felt in opening the door to get into his house.  He was beginning to feel poorly again, and although the night air was cool, his skin felt flushed.  In the end, the desire to get in and lay down outweighed his fears.  He pushed himself out the car and into the house.  Once inside the house the fear abated and he almost felt silly.  Maybe it wasn’t a vulture in the parking lot.  It was dark and he hadn’t been feeling well.  Hadn’t been feeling well for a few days now, actually.  Maybe I am coming down with something, he thought as he walked through the house turning on a light in each and every room.

Joe pulled the covers up to his neck as he got into bed later that night, shivering slightly at the cold air coming through the window.  He was suddenly exhausted and desperate for sleep.  His eyes fluttered twice before he closed them for good.  Just before his conscious thoughts slipped away for the evening, he registered two things.  The first was that the pain in his throat had spread down, sending an unfamiliar burning towards his stomach.  The second was that in the distance, he heard the flutter of wings and a soft click click click.

The end of chapter two.

Click here to read chapter three, Wednesday.

(To receive notifications when the next chapter is posted, follow on facebook at

Carry On – Monday, a short story

This is part of the short story Carry On that is being posted a chapter at a time, Monday October 3rd through Friday October 7th.   This is the first chapter, titled Monday.


Joe was sitting at the kitchen table when he first heard the noise.  It was so quiet that at first he didn’t even notice.  He had been sitting still, lost in thought.  His hand wrapped around his cooling cup of coffee.  It was early summer and most mornings were still cold enough to need a jacket.  Although the night had been chilly, he had left the windows open throughout the house.  The noise was now coming through one of those open windows.  A steady click click click came softly through the kitchen window.  Joe rose and walked to the sink and pushed the curtains aside.  Outside it was early morning and the sun was shining through the trees.  A slight glare was reflecting off of his car.  Shielding his eyes, he tried to locate the source of the noise.  It didn’t take too long.  Perched on the roof of his car sat a very large bird.  No, Joe thought, not just a bird, a vulture. 

As if naming it had called his attention, the vulture looked towards the window where Joe stood.  It shifted its weight and stepped side to side, issuing another click click click.  An involuntary shudder went through Joe as he watched.  The vulture sat as tall as a medium sized dog.  Its wings were pulled up around its neck. A neck which held up a hideous red face that was looking in Joe’s direction.  A darkness seemed to seep towards the car.  Shade fell over the house and over the vulture.  Spreading his wings wide, the bird flapped twice and then took off into the air, not bothering to cast another look back in Joe’s direction.

Joe’s hand was still holding back the curtain as he watched the massive bird fly up into the sky.  The darkness had receded and the sun was shining back down as if it had never left at all.  The bird continued to rise up until he was out of sight.  Joe only gave the bird one more thought as he let the curtain fall back into place and dumped his half full coffee mug into the sink.  That can’t be a good sign.

Turning back to the recently vacated table he tried to remember what he had been doing before he’d noticed the clicking.  A dull headache bloomed slowly behind his eyes.  Rubbing his temples, he looked around again.  He’d been getting ready to leave for work and thought of something he had to do but he had forgotten it just as quickly.  Lisa always said that he was good for that, losing his train of thought.  Sometimes she would tell him that his thought train had crashed.

It had definitely come off the tracks this morning.

The end of chapter one.

Click here to read chapter two, Tuesday.

(To receive notification when the next chapter is posted, follow on facebook at

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