Tag: fun

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words but sometime not.  .  M’s prompt was ‘Cheeky and Sneaky’.

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The great horned god waded ankle  deep through the contorted mass of tortured souls screaming in agony as his cloven hooves bit into their soft pink flesh and dancing flames nibbled on their tender parts.

 “Bring me a paedophile priest “ he roared scooping a particularly rotund fellow from the writhing pile at his feet and tearing him in half.  He swallowed down the top part before tossing the extremities over his shoulder.

 “Not a big fan of legs” he said licking his lips as a couple of imps dragged a most terrified and rather skinny specimen towards him.

 “As requested your most magnificent darkness” the first said bowing as he delivered the cowering man at the feet of the creatures.

 “Young boys eh” he said holding him in his hand and squeezing him slowly.  The man’s eyes bulged and he tried to speak.

 “I am a man of God” he said defiantly.  This was most certainly not the wisest of decisions he had made. 

 “Really?” Said the creature holding him up before his face, eyes black and a mouth red as blood with sharp white teeth glistening.  He roared with laughter.  “I would not doubt it one bit.”

 The two smaller creatures were beckoned over with a long talloned finger as a loud horn signalled above the cacophony of howls and wails. 

“I was thinking some buggery, perhaps with a poker and then how about a nice warm eel bath?  What do you think?”

The creatures exchanged glances. 

 The horned god held out his hand offering the priest to them.  “Is there a problem?” he asked teeth grinding.  “Do you not wish to do my bidding and inflict a delicious and unimaginable revenge on this vile creature? “

 The smaller of the two coughed nervously and elbowed his partner.  “Tell him cheeky, go on.”

 Cheeky cowered and took a deep breath.

 “It’s just that…” He paused.

 Sneaky elbowed him again.  “Just do it” he whispered.

 “Come on, out with it” roared the beast, eyes bulging and tightening his grip on the priest so much so that it emptied it’s bowels quite involuntarily.

 “It’s just that, well, you see Great and Mighty One, the hallowed horn of compliance has blown and union guidelines prevent us from out of contractual hours torture you see.” He exhaled and covered his head expecting a smiting at the very least.

 “Did it?  Are you sure” Said the beast quizzically. 

 “Yes sire” said Sneaky now feeling somewhat emboldened.

 “And you have somewhere to be?”

 “Yes sir?”

 The creature looked a little sad as he placed the priest back amongst the writing mass of agony being slowly roasted at his feet.

 “I just thought maybe you might, you know, want to just finish him off.  Might be fun.”

 The imps exchanged a glance and shuffled uncomfortably.

 “It’s just that it’s a union thing you know.  Not really our call.” Said Cheeky.  “Rules and all that.  We’d love to stay honest we would but…”

 “I see, sure, I suppose yeah no that’s cool really” The god answered.  He paused for a moment.  “Tomorrow maybe?  You doing anything then?”

 Sneaky looked away scratching his head.

 “We er…well its kind of our day off you see.  Mandatory working week rest break.”

 “Oh right yeah cool no problem I get it.”

 “We would have loved to though you know.  What about Sunday?  Were free Sunday right Sneaky?”

 Sneaky shook his head.  “Mephisto” he said coughing into his hand.

 Cheeky stared at his feet. “We kind of have this thing you see.  Its one of the lads deathday.  His big 666.”

 “Oh right sure I see.  Yeah no problem.  Sounds cool.  You guys have a blast.  Maybe I’ll see you next week? “

 “Definitely yes lets make it happen, definitely we will be in touch for sure” said Cheeky as they floated upwards leaving the age old creature stood alone.

 “Why did you agree that?” snapped Sneaky as they flew out of earshot.  “You know we’ve agreed to spend some time with Trump.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words but sometime not.  .  M’s prompt was ‘Early Morning Mishaps’.

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Jay stood ashen faced, his heart pounding in his chest, filled with a deep sense of foreboding.

 “What have you done?” Emm asked shaking her head.  “Jay, dad’s going to be furious.  I mean seriously, he worked really hard on that for you.  He’s going to kill you.”

 “Don’t you think I know that” Jay snapped.  “I was just messing about I didn’t think that would happen obviously.” 

 “When are you going to tell him?”

 “Will you tell him for me?  You know what he’s like.  He will take it better if it comes from you.”

 “What?” Emm asked.  “Jay, you need to tell him and you need to do it soon.  You only have a week left before you need to hand in your school project and there’s no way he can remake all those dinosaurs in seven days.  You’ll need to work on something else…”

 

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words but sometime not.  .  M’s prompt was ‘Saucy Suspicions’.

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When Ernie came home early he had to park on the street because of the black delivery van hunched on his driveway. 

 “That’s funny” he said to himself as he pushed against the already slightly ajar front door.  “I wasn’t expecting a delivery.”

 He stepped into the house and placed his keys in the bowl on the small side table in the entrance.  He paused realising his wife’s car keys were in there too.  Her car must be in the garage which was odd at this time of day as she would usually be at the tennis club.

 “Helen are you home?” he called out as he noticed the blouse she had been wearing this morning thrown over the arm of the plush leather sofa.  “Well it has been hot today” he said to himself.

 As he walked through the house he noticed more clothes strewn across the floor.  He didn’t recognise the jeans, they looked somewhat larger than his but he must just be mistaken. 

 He picked it up as he went and walked through to the kitchen where he placed it in the washing machine.  Helen must have dropped it on the way to doing laundry he thought.

 Heading back into the hall he stood at the foot of the stairs.  More clothes.  She was such a scruffy pup.  One of the many reasons he loved her so.  “You up there honey?” He called out picking up her bra and panties.  They were the good ones…the ones he bought her for valentines day that she hadn’t worn for him yet. 

It had been hot out she must have been desperate for a shower after tennis perhaps.  He wasn’t sure that those panties were best suited for such physical activities though.

 As he rounded the top of the stairs and stepped onto the landing.  “Babe?” He called out.   There were noises coming from the bedroom. It sounded like she was watching porn.  His heart raced.  He had been wanting to try something like that for some time but she always said that it was immoral and that it would make baby Jesus cry if they did.  Maybe things were going to take a turn for the better in the bedroom.

 Hurriedly he shuffled down the hall unbuttoning his trousers and letting them fall to the floor.  Frantically unbuttoning his shirt he reached the bedroom door.  It was slightly ajar and he could just catch a glimpse of her through the doorway. 

 It was at this moment that his heart sank and he suspected that perhaps all was not as it might seem.  The fact that a strapping great tattooed fellow was currently hanging out of the back of his wife didn’t help much either…

 

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words but sometime not.  .  M’s prompt was ‘September Sunrise’.

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Stan stared out across the water, dark and cold, his fishing pole nestled between his hands as he waited for sunrise.  It was the best time of day to be outside he thought – the air was still and calm, as if nature herself held her breath at the imminent touch of her golden hued lover.

 He tapped his watch thinking it must have stopped surely and reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone and double checked the time.  No.  It was right.

 In the distance a shrill siren broke the silence, and somewhere high up on the ridge above him he heard a wolf howl into the darkness, and then another and another, their cacophony echoing down the valley.

 He placed the pole at his feet looking out into the darkness, stars still pinpricks in the night sky, and watched as the surface of the lake first rippled and then burst into a silver writhing froth as fish thrashed and gulped the still cold dawn air.  And he waited.

 At his feet insects of all descriptions scuttled frantically over his boots and plump worms twisted and spiralled their way to the surface reaching for the sky in a desperate dance.  And still he waited for the sunrise.

 Reaching again for his phone, the glow of the scream cutting through the darkness, he was forced to scuttle for cover as a murder of crows swooped across the lake and then spiralled and screeching, crashed into a the trees on the hill behind him. 

 Pulse racing he stabbed at the numbers on the phone, but without a signal the incessant beep faded into the darkness.  He felt a cold deep within, icy fingers wrapping around him as the world about him writhed and splashed and crashed and howled.    He felt loss, desperation and so terribly alone as he looked to the horizon waiting for the golden embers.

 And still he waited…

 

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words.  M’s prompt was ‘A Touch of Perfect’.

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Every day Cal would wake and think that today would be his last.  Today, he was right.

With his engines offline he tumbled through space at 30000 miles an hour towards his inevitable destination.  He stabbed at the lifeless console hoping to gain control of the ship but it remained unresponsive save for the blink of the life support system.

Peering out of the starboard portal the moon swung slowly and ominously into sight, and just beyond her horizon he saw the Earth he’d left behind and would now never return to.

He then smiled and sat back in his chair. waiting…

 

 

 

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more.  .   M’s prompt  was ‘ICY MORN’

 

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 It was cold the day it all ended.  Unseasonably so according to the weathermen.  The temperature had dropped overnight and a heavy frost made the grass crunch beneath Martin’s slippers as he shuffled out onto the common in front of the flat.

 As neighbours gathered around him he watched open mouthed as the sky was set aflame in a firestorm of crimson, yellow and orange.

 Darryl from upstairs said he’d heard there was a meteor heading for earth that the government had been covering up for months.  Others simply wept.  Mrs Melling from number 2 said it was divine retribution for something or other.  Most likely something to do with buggery.  For a woman who went to church each week she did often seem overly mindful of the subject and would insist it was the root of most of the problems in society.

 He’d stopped listening by the time she got round to insisting that Jesus was no fan of bottom shenanigans because at that point a rather large space ship seemed to be descending through the clouds towards them…

 

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more.  .   M’s prompt  was ‘Wizards and wormholes

 

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Farzlebarg took off his hat, scratched his head and ran a ponderous hand through his long white beard. 

“Well, well, what the devil is that I wonder?” He said to himself, head tilted to one side.

 “It’s a wormhole” came a very matter-of-fact reply.

 Farzlebarg turned slowly to where his apprentice stood looking rather proud of himself.

 “Have you ever heard of a rhetorical question boy?” The old wizard snapped.

 Farbidoo nodded vigorously “A rhetorical question is a figure of speech in the form of a question that is…”

 “Oh do shush boy, please.  You really must work on your situational context.”  

 The boy lowered his head and quietened his voice “…asked to make a point rather than to elicit an answer.”

 By this point the wizard had however stopped listening and had again turned his attention to the slowly rotating purple mass with the dark spinning centre that had taken up the majority of his already quite small kitchen.

 “Curious indeed” he mused as he tossed a tea cup towards it and watched it disappear with a noise not wholly dissimilar to that of a wellington boot being pulled from the mud.

 “I wonder where it came from” Farbidoo said peering around the old man.

 “Do you really?” Farzlebarg asked.  Whilst the boy was keen as mustard when it came to his studies he lacked a certain curiosity and bravery when it came to real world application.

 “Well yes, there is a worm hole in the kitchen so I would most certainly want to know where it came from.”

 Farzlebarg threw the matching saucer after the cup.  There was little point of a saucer without a cup, and it disappeared with the same noise mud squelching noise.

 “The question is not where it comes from boy, as interesting as that might be.  The question you ought to be asking yourself is this…” He paused momentarily for dramatic effect.  He did so enjoy a little tension in his delivery.  The mark of a fine orator most certainly.

 Farbidoo strained hanging on the old wizard’s every word.

 “The question you ought to ask yourself boy…”

 “Yes?”

 The old man grabbed his arm.

 “The question you should ask yourself, because it is far more interesting and holds the potential for much greater adventure, is where does it lead…”

 

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more.  That said this one is 101 words.   M’s prompt  was ‘Frosted petals.”

 

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Serena pulled the heavy pelts close around her ears as she stared out across the frozen landscape and towards the feint reminder of their folly.  The pale light trickled across the landscape once bathed so bright and for one final time she watched shadows lengthen and then fade to nothing.

The thermal sources were all dead so this would be their last cycle.  She knew that when they chose to remain their fates were sealed, and when the signals stopped as the fleet passed Mars they were truly alone. 

In the dark they would die with Earth, and it felt right.