Socks Comic Book Novels & Stories

“Still don’t get it.” Scott pulled two crumpled plastic bags from his pocket. “Look. These’ll hold about a hundred cans an bottles each. If we fill em up, we can get close to ten bucks. We’ll split it, five bucks each.” Scott winked. “I was over at Brooks Pharmacy yesterday. Guess what they just got?” Jesse smiled hopefully. “New comics?” “You bet. Secret Defenders, The Hulk . . . an Dr. Strange.” “Cool.” Jesse paused. “Wait. You don’t read comics. What’re you gonna buy with your split?”

Two things, actually. One: A wooden crate full of smashed vintage soda bottles, circa 1960s. Shards of Coke, Dr. Pepper, Pepsi bottles and the emerald green bits of a few 7UP bottles. Two: The wreckage of a homemade, cheap plywood comic book rack, littered with torn and crumpled comic books, all the classics: Batman, The Astounding X-men, Superman and ROM: Space Knight, shredded into ruin. I stared, my face rigid, when a brisk, non-confrontational but stiff voice asked, “Can I help you?”

1 week later Adonis's POV "Ah Finally! I found it! Yes!" I leave a sigh and lie back on my bed, staring at the attractive comic book cover on my phone screen. The cover features a beautiful blonde girl in the middle of two identical twin guys, their only difference in the colour of their hair. One has blonde hair and the other is a brunette. "Double Trouble," I read the name aloud. "And it's the last one." It's the last of Theo's comic books.

I release his shirt and pat it down, and then I open the door and step out to the sidewalk before I change my mind. I refuse to stand on the street and watch him drive away, so once his hazard lights shut off, I turn and walk into Cosmo's. The comic shop we've spent Sundays at since the weather turned too cold for Aspen is bright and airy for the small space it encompasses. The smell of coffee permeates the area. Exposed brick lines both walls, a large window and front door taking up the space at the entrance. To the left running most of the way along, there's a checkout and section for customers to order coffee and other hot drinks. The right wall's filled with metal shelving to display the

The more tipped she gets the more loose her hips and I really think I’ve come up with a dozen new ways to break every bone in someone’s body. “Damn, that shite’s annoying.” Sokin growls, rubbing his ear, retreating to the opposing corner the Akuma are playing in. He brought his own bottle of spirits, and obviously listens but doesn’t fall into the debate of M.V.s that don’t exist in our world. I know I’m just being a rod because shite in Manga is no more real than ‘cars’ or motor vehicles any more than guns or football. At least there’s an actual story with interesting and well-thought-out plot twists. The shite that they go on about is brainless.