Shorts – Tea and Anxiety

A while back i sat down to force myself to write 500 words a night. These are some of those word-salads. This was inspired by a piece of art I bought which Ill post about next…

Having slowed somewhat in my writing, a while back(September 2022) I sat down to force myself to write 500 words a night. These are some of those word-salads. Unedited, raw, and just done for the hell of it…What concerns me most about this one is that I have no recollection of writing it. How curious.


Tea and Anxiety

He sits and watches, patiently, the clink of cup on saucer breaking the silence. Hands fold in his lap as he sets aside the tea and a crooked smile creeps across his snarling lips. He wishes nothing but ill intent, that creeping gloom that overwhelms and petrifies as the Sunday clock marches on to bed time. And bed time, as we know, is the promise of tomorrow and all it holds.

“I don’t want to go,“ the little girl tells her mother, “I don’t like it one bit. They are all horrible to me, especially the boys. The one with the round face pulls my hair when the teacher isn’t looking.”

The mother caresses the girls blonde curls and pulls the blanket up tight around her chin.

“You must ignore them, Cassie,” she insists, “These things pass like all things eventually. When I was a little girl it was just the same and it will get better.”

“Nothing passes,” the creature whispered into the darkness, “nothing passes, no not ever, no never.” He takes up the tea once more and sips from the darkness of the corner of the room, his pale eyes never leaving her.

Cassie breathed deep and turned into the pillow.  It was cold and crisp.

“Nothing passes,” Cassie whispered as her mother stroked her face gently. “You know that, right?”

Cassies mother paused, feeling a cold breeze across her back, and she turned to check that the window had been properly closed.

“That’s not true Cassie,” she said, fiddling with the latch and checking that it was fastened tight. Looking out into the garden she could see flakes of snow starting to drift slowly downwards, caught in the pale light that hung over the back porch.

“It’s going to be…” Cassie’s mother’s voice trailed off as she became distracted by the night beyond the window, the inky black of winter hanging like a pall over the houses that stretched into the distance. Her mind drifted and she watched small plumes of white smoke snake into the windless sky.

“They don’t like you Cassie,” the creature whispered once more, a lyrical lilt in its voice, eyes wild as it climbed slowly up onto the small wooden dresser that sat against the far wall of the room.  It stared directly at her as she lay under her blanket.

“Tomorrow is waiting for you,” it continued, head tilting to one side as it watched the older one pull the curtains closed and walk back over to where the child lay in the bed.

“They don’t like me, mummy,” Cassie said meekly, “please can I stay home tomorrow? My tummy hurts”

“Sleep well,” said Cassie’s mother, placing a kiss on her head. “It will be better in the morning. I promise. And your tummy will be just fine”

“Promises, promises,” hissed the creature into the darkness, it took another sip of tea, eyes bright and ferocious.

“You always promise that,“ said Cassie as she turned into her pillow. “But it never changes.”

The door closed and darkness consumed all. Cassie lay quite still as the creature sat on the dresser and watched her, waiting for her to fall asleep as he whispered indistinguishably into the darkness. Morning would come soon enough, but until then, there was tea to be finished…

Shorts – Shuffle, loop, repeat

A while back i sat down to force myself to write 500 words a night. These are some of those word-salads

Having slowed somewhat in my writing, a while back(September 2022) I sat down to force myself to write 500 words a night. These are some of those word-salads. Unedited, raw, and just done for the hell of it…What concerns me most about this one is that I have no recollection of writing it. How curious.


Headlights cut through the star specked darkness as Clarissa feathered the breaks of the old pick up nervously, steepling mountain sides to one side and a seemingly bottomless drop to the other. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the lights that flickered at the end of the valley  she could see the moon reflecting off of the ocean as it stretched beyond the small white houses, and out past the small boats that bobbed quietly in the bay. It was a road she felt she had driven so many times before she’d left, but it made her nervous still. Maybe it was the thought of returning home after all these years, or maybe it was just the road. She tried not to think about either.

Tyres squealed as she rounded the tight corners, the scent of the sea already thick in the air and memories of so many summers coming flooding back as she wound down the window to feel the cool night air on her skin. She reached for the battered Bakelite dial on the radio and watched it scroll right to left, the crackle and hiss giving way to a feint music that ebbed and flowed like the tides as she moved in and out of the shadow of the mountain side and wound her way down towards the town.

A battered road sign, pockmarked and faded, told her that it was just three miles to the place she had once called home, the place where she had grown up, and the place she had vowed never to return to. Those brash aspirations of youth now as distant as the life she had left behind.

The radio burst into life once more and it caused her to start, knuckles white as she gripped the old leather steering wheel tightly.

“Shit, “ she said to herself, letting out a nervous laugh. Despite the moon and stars, the sky was still an inky black and the quiet of night added to the anxiety she has sworn would not affect her when she’d decided to return to the old family home.

The woman on the radio was now singing about the troubles that comes from loving a boy with blue eyes and a pickup truck, and she couldn’t help but sympathise, but then smiled as she decided that it was probably the singers own stupid fault for getting in the pickup truck in the first place and that she should probably just stay well away from blue eyed boys if she knew what is good for her.

“Now, now, that’s all a bit cynical isn’t it,” she said aloud to herself as she decided that the quiet of night was a far better option that the woes of the singer and turned the knob on the radio until it made a ‘click’ and fell silent. The road widened and flattened as the roadside markers ticked down from three to two miles, and soon the mountain side was left behind, the ravines disappeared, and tall pines lined the road ahead.

Though she had not been home for twenty years nearly, everything had a familiar feel already. Imprinted memories from her youth resonating as the headlights lit up the last few miles and the trees soon paved the way to the sprawling lawns and large houses that were dotted around the outskirts of town. Speeding up along the long sweep that would bring her home, she smiled as the town church spire appeared over the treetops, still white and bright against the night.

 Reaching down she decided to turn the radio back on and she scanned the dial as she twisted the black know and the thin red marker moved left to right. Music surged and faded, and she continued to search until the signal strengthened and the sound quite suddenly blared from the speakers causing her to start.

“Shit,” she said, heart racing as she looked down, struggling to quicky adjust the volume. The pickup veered towards the middle of the road as the small black knob came off in her fingers.”Oh double shit!” she exclaimed as it fell away into the footwell. It was soon to make little difference, as before she could look up there was a deafening blare of a truck horn over the sound of the music…and then nothing. Quiet.

Headlights cut through the star specked darkness as Clarissa feathered the breaks of the old pick up nervously, steepling mountain sides to one side and a seemingly bottomless drop to the other…

Shorts – Alignment

A while back i sat down to force myself to write 500 words a night. These are some of those word-salads

Having slowed somewhat in my writing, a while back(September 2022) I sat down to force myself to write 500 words a night. These are some of those word-salads. Unedited, raw, and just done for the hell of it…What concerns me most about this one is that I have no recollection of writing it. How curious.


Part 1 – Jennifer

Her thin, pale fingers still bloodied, Jennifer sat very still in the chair, hands cuffed to the desk in front of her. The room was uncomfortably warm, and the police office sat across from her was sweating more than she was.

“Are you quite okay?” she asked him, quite genuinely concerned as she watched rivulets of sweat run down the sides of his round, pink face. “I’d offer you a handkerchief,” she continued, holding up her hands until the chain clinked against bracket that held it in place, “but as you can see I am somewhat restricted in my movements.”

“Why did you do it?” the office asked, “we know you did it, we have witnesses to the whole thing. What we really want to know though is why would you stab a man through the heart in broad daylight?”

Jennifer said nothing, wishing he would wipe his face. He looked quite unwell and could certainly do to lose a few pounds. That might help. She didn’t mind the warmth particularly, it was actually nice to be warm for a change. This time of year the streets were so very cold, and no amount of blankets or cardboard boxes could stop the cold seeping into your bones.

“Did you know the man? Did he do something to you?” he asked, his eyes fixed firmly on her. “Did he want something from you, was that it?”

Jennifer looked down at the table and shook her head. She could still see his face, eyes wide in surprise, his red lunch pail dropping to the floor and sandwiches spilling at her feet.

From the very beginning she knew that she would have to go through this. There was never a thought that she would get away with it, that was never the point. In fact it was quite the opposite.

“So he was a complete stranger?”

Jennifer nodded again; head still bowed.

For a moment the tone of the officer softened, and he pulled his chair closer to the table and leaned in towards her.

“People don’t just kill complete strangers, do they Jennifer?” he said, “they just don’t do that. Now maybe you ought to tell me why you did what you did, and we can try and figure this whole thing out, eh. Did he hurt you? Is that why you did it?”

Jennifer looked into the face of the officer and sighed. His eyes were kind, despite all he must have seen in his time on the streets. They were very similar in that way she thought, only he was out there by choice.

“I did it, and I would very much like to go back to my cell if that’s okay,” she said calmly, a smile breaking out across her face. “I really do have nothing more to add. I’m guilty,  and its so very nice and warm in there and I believe lunch will be served soon.”

Part 2 – Donna

The door slammed violently, windows rattling, as Frank stomped down the hall. Heavy work boots clattered on the bare wooden floorboards and his voice boomed out.

“Donna, I’m home. Where are you?” His red lunch pail clattered as it was thrown on the small wooden table next to the door.

Upstairs, small feet scuttled and darted and then fell quiet as a sense of apprehension filled the air. A small, soft voice came from the ramshackle kitchen that sat at the back of the house.

“I’m sorry, I’m coming,” it said, a mix of fear and faked enthusiasm. ”it…it’s good to have you home,” she continued.  There was a clink of glass on glass and the sound of a bottle being put back down before she appeared through the kitchen doorway.

She was a small woman, a well-worn dress hung from her, shoulders to ankles, and her hair was pulled in a tight knot. She mustered a smile and it crept awkwardly across her face, a face with too many lines for her still young years. The remains of a bruise around her left eye were still vaguely visible in the dim light and she hurried to meet Frank, holding out a small glass of pale liquor in a thick bottomed cut glass tumbler. It had been part of a set once, not theirs of course, they couldn’t afford such things. Sometimes the family for whom she did washing would give her things they were otherwise going to throw away. As long as Frank didn’t think they were receiving charity, he was happy to not care where the things came from.

“Dinner?” he said taking the glass from her. “I don’t go to work all…”

He stopped his train of conversation as a thump and a crash from upstairs, and there was a small scream before it fell silent, stifled.

Frank roared, instantly enraged, and Donna reached for his arm to try to calm him. She knew it was pointless but she had to try.

“Here, she said,” desperately, “why don’t you come sit down and I will put the television on and I will go sort the twins out.”

Frank waited for a moment, nostrils flared and jaw clenched tight. All day he had worked, he told himself, all day just to come home to this.

“What they need is a dose of discipline,” he shouted, knowing they could hear him.

“I know, I know, please, let me deal with it,” Donna continued, her heart was racing and she knew how this would end.

Frank finished his drink in a single gulp and handed her the glass.

“Let me get you another while you sit, dinner will be ready in just a minute,” Donna said gently leading him into the living room. A large, battered leather chair sat in front of the television, a smaller couch to one side of the room and then very little else bar a few photos on a small side table. Frank dropped into it, and it seemed to groan as he settled in.

“Get me that drink,” he said, fierce eyes darting up to the ceiling and then back to Donna. He reached up and put a hand on her waist, and it took every effort in her not to flinch. He smiled and licked his lips, “good girl.”

Part 3 – Room 101

>>> Transmitting >>>

Cypher: We all set? You sure about this one?

Charon: Good to go. You worry too much. You need to learn to trust me. We’ve done this enough times.

Cypher: Transfers received?

Charon: This one’s gratis. Friend of a friend of a friend, and I was feeling charitable. Your finders fee remains the same though. It’s nearly Christmas, I am feeling charitable.

Cypher: Are you fucking serious?

Charon: Deadly

Cypher: LOL. Such a big heart.

Charon:  And she knows no lawyer right? She knows to just take it on the chin.

Cypher: Now who’s doubting who? She knows the drill. Do not pass go, do not collect 200.

Charon: Matched and dispatched brother, plausible deniability guaranteed. Ive set the server scrub. Tick tick tick…

Cypher: The things people will do for 3 meals a day and guaranteed warmth eh.

Charon: We didn’t start the fire, but we gotta pay the ferryman.

Cypher: You talk a lot of shit.

Charon: Service with a smile my friend.

>>>Transmission end…server reset initiated….>>>

Catastrophic Calamaties – Room 101

Clarella folder her arms and turned to look out of the window of the ship.  There was nothing in particular to look at, a few stars blinked and twinkled in the inky blackness of space, but that aside it was simply preferable to looking at his face.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. They are, this month at least, just 101 words only (apart from this one). They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I also decided to combine this with M’s prompts. Today it was ‘Catastrophic Calamities’.


Clarella folder her arms and turned to look out of the window of the ship.  There was nothing in particular to look at, a few stars blinked and twinkled in the inky blackness of space, but that aside it was simply preferable to looking at his face.

“You must have pressed it” Gard insisted.  “I certainly didn’t, I would never do something like that by mistake.”

Clarella’s jaw tightened and she remained defiantly quiet.

“It’s okay” Gard continued placing a hand on her shoulder.  “It’s done now, it can’t be helped.”

She shrugged and brushed his hand away continuing to stare blankly out into the darkness.  The silence was making Gard wholly uncomfortable.

“Look…just…” He started but then stopped as Clarella turned towards him.  Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared.

“Do you really think I pressed it?” she asked, her head tilting menacingly to one side.  Gard couldn’t decide if she was going to gouge his eyes out or savage his throat.

“It..I just…” his voice trailed away as she turned again to look out of the window.

“you know what this is like don’t you?” she asked.

Gard mumbled a response that she really was not interested in hearing.

“This is just like that time at your mothers.”

Gard’s already cool reptilian blood ran colder still. “Babe please.” He pleaded but she was not one for listening once it got to this point.

“You know quite well that I was not at fault then but you chose to side with her.”

“Clar please” he said leaning in to try and let her see how very sorry he was.

The ship shuddered, tilted to starboard and then righted itself again as a large piece of planet collided with her hull.

“No Gard” she replied.  Her scales flushed and shimmered a light blue indicating her heightened emotional state.  “It’s always the same with you isn’t it.  You never believe me one.  If it was your mother I am sure you’d believe her.”

Gard checked the console.  Damage was minimal, the bulk of the impact absorbed by the vessels shields.

“Babe” he replied desperately, his attention again focussed on Clarella.  “I’m sorry okay, it must have been me.  I must have done it.  Let’s just get back en route, they’re waiting for us.”

“What?  You really think I’m going there with you after how you’ve treatd me?”  She shouted flashing him a vicious look.  “Just take me home I am going nowhere with you.”

Gard winced.  He knew she was not for changing her mind.

He brought up the control holo panel and reaching up punched in the coordinates for home.

“Clar, are you sure we…” he started but she cut him short.

“Just take me home” she said, her voice now quiet yet still quite menacing.  “You can tell them I have a really bad headache, which incidentally I now do so thank you for that also.”

Gard fired up the light drives and confirmed the coordinates, the Aspartila turning slowly on her axis as the navcomp plotted the best route home.

“Course confirmed” the ship’s navcomp said as she began to move slowly through the belt of debris that surrounded her.  “Once we have cleared the remains of the planet the estimated journey time at warp 3 will be in the region of 3 quintells.”

Clarella pulled on her safety harness and refolded her arms.

Straightening his seat Gard pulled on his own harness saying nothing.  He was still pretty sure she had hit the button and accidentally discharged the ship’s ion cannon and vaporised the planet but it really wasn’t worth getting into an even bigger fight over.

It’s wasn’t as if Earth mattered really.

 

 

 

Downtown – Part 1 of 6 – Room 101

Entering my office the first thing I noticed was her legs were as long as the days were hot.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. They are, this month at least, just 101 words only. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I also decided to combine this with M’s prompts. Today it was ‘Jet Lagged and Jilted’. I am going to try tell a short tale in 6 one hundred and one word pieces.  To be honest this was rather rushed and it might end at 1 of 6.  Just trying something different.


Entering my office the first thing I noticed was her legs were as long as the days were hot.  Or was it that she was as hot as the days were long?  Either way I knew she was going to be trouble.

I watched as she lit a cigarette and used my favourite cup as an ashtray.  She smiled in a way that told me that this was going to be cost me no matter what I charged her, and as smoke curled from her dark red lips she spoke, her voice like syrup.

“I need you to find my husband”

Inside – Part 6 of 6 – Room 101

“I’m sorry” he repeated, “I…” He paused.  How could he explain that he had no idea who she was or why he had wanted to strangle her moments before.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. They are, this month at least, just 101 words only. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I also decided to combine this with M’s prompts. Today it was ‘Orbital Orangutans’. I am going to try tell a short tale in 6 one hundred and one word pieces and publish them all today.


Orbital Orangutans

Henderson felt instantly clear headed as he followed her outside to the balcony.

“I’m sorry” he repeated, “I…” He paused.  How could he explain that he had no idea who she was or why he had wanted to strangle her moments before.

She didn’t respond.  He placed a hand on her arm.  “ I said …”

Wide eyed she spun around, and before he could finish she grabbed him and dragged him over the rail and into the blackness of night.

Cal watched their vitals peak then flatlined, ‘Nanites Offline’ flashing across his screen.

“Mission accomplished” he said smiling to himself.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 

Inside – Part 5 of 6 – Room 101

Henderson’s mind was foggy, he was already losing control again and his head was pounding.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. They are, this month at least, just 101 words only. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I also decided to combine this with M’s prompts. Today it was ‘Space Jam on Toast’. I am going to try tell a short tale in 6 one hundred and one word pieces and publish them all today.  The prompt reminded me of a joke I once heard but I can’t tell it because it would give things away…


“What’s wrong?” she asked sitting up on the bed breathing heavily.

Henderson’s mind was foggy, he was already losing control again and his head was pounding.

“I…don’t…” he stammered placing his head in his hands and repeating “this isn’t me”.

She leaned across and lowered her head until it was an inch from his.

“It’s okay” she said placing her hand on his cheek.

“It’s not…” he began before again losing control.

“I understand” she said kissing him gently.  She then climbed from the bed pulling on her gown just as a large “Nanite Transfer Complete” confirmation flashed across Cal’s screen.

 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 

Inside – Part 4 of 6 – Room 101

“Oh god yes” she groaned, eyes closed in pleasure and her body pressed against him.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. They are, this month at least, just 101 words only. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I also decided to combine this with M’s prompts. Today it was ‘A measure of improbability’. I am going to try tell a short tale in 6 one hundred and one word pieces and publish them all today.

 


Cal’s screen flashed amber as Gill fought the impulses sent to his cortex.

“Well you are a good boy” he said to himself as he instructed Gill to tighten his grip around her throat.

“Oh god yes” she groaned, eyes closed in pleasure and her body pressed against him.

The screen flashed again, this time red and with it Gill’s grip relaxing as he fought the almost irresistible urge to strangle her.

“Fuck no” he said pushing her off breathing heavily and his eyes wild with fear.  “This isn’t me.”

Cal typed frantically, code streaming across the screen and hit ‘/Send’.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 

Inside – Part 3 of 6 – Room 101

Cal whispered words that were like warm chocolate as they spilled from Gill’s mouth, and she had a sweet tooth.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. They are, this month at least, just 101 words only. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I also decided to combine this with M’s prompts. Today it was ‘Platinum Plutonium’. I am going to try tell a short tale in 6 one hundred and one word pieces and publish them all today.

 


Cal whispered words that were like warm chocolate as they spilled from Gill’s mouth, and she had a sweet tooth.  The nanites coursing through Henderson’s body made him a puppet and though he fought every instruction he was powerless to resist as they left the Platinum Plutonium and caught a sky cab to hers.

He watched her undress, soft curves silhouetted against the moonlight streaming through the 200th floor windows and his body instinctively responding to her touch.

He thought of his wife at home as she closed her eyes and kissed him, her lips soft and warm, unable to resist.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 

Inside – Part 2 of 6 – Room 101

Henderson watched her closely from the shadows as she sat alone at the bar. 

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. They are, this month at least, just 101 words only. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I also decided to combine this with M’s prompts. Today it was ‘Galactic Garble Blasters’. I am going to try tell a short tale in 6 one hundred and one word pieces and publish them all today.

 


Henderson watched her closely from the shadows as she sat alone at the bar.  Somewhere in the depths of his mind he knew he needed to be somewhere else but still he found himself walking across to her.

He watched himself in the mirrors behind them, everything surreal and seemingly detached yet he knew it was no dream.  She smiled at him and placed her hand on his arm as words spilled from his mouth that weren’t his.

Laughing she stood and whispered in his ear, a passenger in his own body and the smell of her perfume filling his senses.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 

Brian and Carla – 75 word Story

Just a quick something

Brian looked into his wife’s eyes and sighed.

“I’m so sorry it ended like this” he said “I wanted it to work but I realise we want different things.”

Carla said nothing, staring back expressionless.

“I know” Brian continued.  “I know it’s my fault I just…”

Brian paused, he had hoped for something.  Anything.

“Fine, just fine” he said picking up his shovel and tipping soil over Carla’s already stiffening body.  “Silent treatment it is…”

Butter Brickle – Underworld 3

Marcus Henderson was born to a poor mid-west family just after the second American civil war. 

Let’s do another month of M’s prompts shall we.   I used to do 101 words, hence the title but I am scrapping the restriction.  They will still be a brief.

Part 1 is here

Part 2 is here


Marcus Henderson was born to a poor mid-west family just after the second American civil war.  His parents had picked the wrong side and they had paid a heavy price for those decisions for years afterwards.  Like so many who had felt it was their duty to reclaim the America of their forefathers his father had died a broken man and his mother a shell of the tender and caring woman he remembered from his very earliest years.

As he walked towards the Zip station he thought of them and of the promise he had made his father as he lay dying, his body riddled with radiation poisoning. He would have been proud of the man he had become.  Proud of his sense of duty and his loyalty to family and a cause that still lived silently in the heart of so many.

“Don’t forget what they did” he could still hear him saying.

With rain falling and the inky blackness of night now descended on the city he reached into his pocket and fingered a small wad of credits.  Just enough to get him to the Airport and then it was off planet.  He gripped the briefcase more tightly and turned a corner.  The Zip station was just a block ahead and he quickened his pace.

“I’ve done it” he said aloud and allowed himself to smile.  It was probably his first smile in years.

Unfortunately for Marcus Henderson, with the exception of a brief moment where he managed to muster a “what the…”, those were the last words to ever leave his mouth.

From the corner of his eye he caught a blur of motion, a whiff of perfume and then he was suddenly dragged back into a small loading alley running parallel to the main walkway.  He felt arms around his throat and despite kicking frantically he could not fight back.

There was a brief “Shh” in his ear and in one swift movement there was a crack as his neck snapped and he slumped lifeless to the floor.

“Heavier than I thought” Jessica said to herself looking down at him and reaching down and prying the briefcase from his fingers which she placed it on the ground next to a dumpster.  She then went through his pockets and found his cash, ID Papers and a packet of butter brittle.

“Sweet tooth eh” she said.  “Don’t you know sugar will kill you sugar.”

She didn’t have time to get him into the dumpster and pulled him out of sight.  Not a minute too soon too as she heard hurried footsteps and through the patter of the rain  listened as the two hooded men walked past oblivious to what had just happened.

“He must have headed into the station” she heard one say.  There was definitely the hint of a Russian accent.

“Head up to the main concourse” the second told him breaking into a run, “I’ll check the departures.”

Jessica stood in the darkness, rain falling, and listened to the their receding footsteps.

“Job done” she said to herself and picked up the case and pushed the cash and ID papers into her jacket pocket.  She tossed the butter brittle at the dead man’s feet.

“Nothing personal Marcus” she said heading back out into the night, “I’m just doing my job.”

Jumbled Words – Room 101

Sorry just seems to be the hardest word…

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt


 

Jonah stood at the door, knocked and waited.  He knew it was the right thing to do, he needed to do it to make the voices to stop.

“Yes” said a dark haired man opening the door.

“I I wa-wa-wa-want t-t-to te-te-tell you …”

“Jesus mate, get it out already” the man snapped

The voices screamed in his head.

“I-I-It’s a-b-b-bout your w-w-w-wife.”

The man paused.  “My wife was murdered” he said “what do you want?”

Jonah blinked.

“My god come on you f-f- freak” the man mocked.

“Screw it “ Jonah said pulling out a knife “You deserve each other…”


 

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Wheezing and sneezing – Room 101

Some families aren’t always what they seem…

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt


“Dude what the hell have you done?”

“I know I know, but he was keeping me awake all night every night.  I couldn’t take it anymore, I snapped.”

“So you just bashed his head in?  No one complains about you.”

“You gotta understand man, the wheezing – it never stopped.  Night after night it just went on and on and on I couldn’t take it.”

“Oh the boss is so going to go ballistic man.”

“Shit shit shit shit shit!”

“Get a mop, bucket and tarpaulin.  We’ll sort it”

“Oh gosh thanks man really, thank you!

“The seven dwarfs sounds better anyway…”

 


Photo courtesy of pixabay

Elizabeth

The challenge was to write something in 61 words using the phrase “good and bad do exist” for the #MicroMonday Challenge

 

“So good and bad do exist because God made them?” Cassandra asked.

The vicar nodded.

“And the man who killed my daughter…” she paused waiting.

“He was evil.”

“But why create evil?  She was 5” she asked angrily.

“God moves in mysterious ways” he answered, a hand on her arm.

She brushed it off angrily.  “He sounds like a bastard to me.”


 

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/127785315/posts/1654

 

Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge :Lake & Calm

You know the drill. Small Japanese poems using the words Lake and Calm. Go!

Two words, endless possibilities.

Lake: Silver and gold

Calm descends at fall of day

a tranquil mirror

or perhaps a Tanka…

Calm I watch the lake

The body is well weighed down

she won’t resurface

Endless possibilities

Best call the insurance folk

What about

boat adrift, calm lake

waves lapping at the shoreline

drunken fishing trip

Maybe a teeny weeny haiku

calm water

at camp crystal lake

Boo Jason

Happy Monday!

 


RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #171 Lake&Calm

My neighbour Ifraheem

Ifraheem was a quiet and unassuming man, very much like any of your neighbours I would imagine.

A flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers photo challenge.  Take the photo, write something in 100-150 words.  Simple apparently…


“Aah Mrs Fazal” said Ifraheem as the courtyard door swung open, “come in please, it’s so good to see you.”

” I just wanted to pay my respects” she said placing a hand on Ifraheem’s arm.

“Why thank you” Ifraheem replied, putting down the watering can, “It has indeed been too long, what a relief it was when the police eventually declared her deceased.”

“You have endured much” Mrs Fazal continued, “But I see you have taken good care of her flowers.  They’ve never looked so well.”

“She would often joke that she preferred her flowers to people” he said, his smile now a little less broad.

Mrs Fazal nodded in agreement as Ifraheem bent down and picked a few fallen leaves and debris from the one of the pots closest to him.

“Well I must be off” she said, “perhaps we could have tea sometime soon?”

Ifraheem felt in his pocket for the small finger bone he had plucked from the pot.  “I would like that very much” he said as she turned and left.

175 Words 

 


More?  Go on try something different…

99 Word Challenge – Sound

Badger and Fox

Farmer and Dog

 

http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=736996

 

 

Ichabod the first

Imagine if you will, London, 1887.

Narrator:  Imagine if you will, London, 1887.  Thick fog rolls in across the city, and somewhere down a back alley in Whitechapel, just a short walk from the Thames,  Enid Thickett has just finished servicing one of her regular customers.  

He is a portly fellow of good standing who goes by the name of Ichabod White,  and fortunately for Enid he has a thick purse and a penchant for grubby women of a particular girth.  He also has little stamina to speak of which in Enid’s line of work is a real benefit.

To be sure it is not a night for good people like you and I, this is a night when decent folk are safely tucked up in their beds.

“As ever my dear, it was a real treat!” Ichabod insists buttoning his britches.  “have you put on a little weight” He asks, playfully slapping her rather round bottom as she rearranges herself, “You look jolly good in this light I must say.”

“Cheeky Devil” Enid laughs, she knows how to keep her customers happy.  As foul breath and fuelled on cheap liqueur as they might well be, they were a means to an end, and regular customers like Ichabod White were becoming increasingly valuable.

“More of me to enjoy I reckons” she continues, fingering the cold coins in her pocket, the taste of him still on her lips. “Same time next week?” she asks, an awkward toothless smile breaking out across her face.

Ichabod reaches into his vest and from a bulging purse pulls out another coin tosses it to her.  “Afraid not my dear” he answers tucking his purse back into his vest, I am a man of many appetites and a chap I know from the Lieutenant General’s office has introduced me to a number of his acquaintances.”  He grins broadly.  “This was a farewell so to speak.”

Narrator:  It is at this point where our story takes a turn for the worse.  Or perhaps for the better, that depends entirely on your point of view.   Ichabod White was for the most part a good man, and as noble a gesture as a farewell might appear to him he was to discover that it was the very catalyst for what was to happen next.  

Enid always carried her knife for protection, and as she wiped it on her dress placing it back inside her coat, she considered how he Ichabod had screamed and how he  had insisted that it really was not his fault and that he would most certainly be back next week.

She did not care for his screaming or his promises, and she did not one jot care for those that would steal her business.


 

Want to read more of my stuff?

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

Photo courtesy of Webandi @ Pixabay

wp-image-2034442149https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/Foggy/