Short story – Page 2

Beginnings – 4 – Spontaneous eruptions

The legend of Arty McFarty

M does a marvellous set of prompts each month, today the prompt was Spontaneous Eruptions. I am sure you aren’t surprised at what I came up with. I recorded it too though so you can listen rather than actually reading it. See how kind I am…I hope it works.

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2018/07/01/july-writing-prompts/

The Legend of Arty McFarty

Once a fellow of some girth, a man of little joy or mirth

Who sad spent all his days self loathing and most glum

Teased by all and not respected and each night upset reflected

On his life which was quite empty and no fun

He had no wife and children none and friends alas were all now gone

And so he pondered his existence and felt small

And he came to the conclusion he was under the illusion

That he really ought to not be here at all

Quite intent to bring an end and without life or love or friend

At the cliff top he now stood, but lo a vision

It was the ghost of his dead mum and she insisted with his bum

He’d seek revenge on those who point with such derision

She spoke kinds words and reassured and from the cliff top he was lured

And she reminded him that he was in her heart

and he indeed possessed a gift and it so gave his heart a lift

when she proclaimed he had the world’s most fearsome fart

And so with deadly fierce eruption he blazed a trail of fowl destruction

Wreaking vengeance on all who had made him sad

At work he let off in a lift, three people had to miss a shift

it made a lass have fits and nearly killed one lad

His bottom spewed such fearsome gases that his neighbour now wears glasses

When into her letter box he let one out

He could hear her scream and stumble and she dropped her apple crumble

And threw up when out into the street ran out

He blew off down at the store and the milk curdled and then more

Or less the whole place had to be evacuated

At the pub he was oft goaded so near the fire he exploded

Watched it burn with joy, oh how these folk he hated

Farted then into a pram and in the face of an old man

then on a beggar who would oft be rather rude

And to a church he made a visit, left his own unholy spirit

and to a shelter where he dropped one on the food

And so he found his true life calling with his anus most appaling

Havoc he did wreak and eyes did stream

And all his days he spent unleashing anal thunder most unpleasing

Vile bottom burps most nasty and oh so obscene

Beginnings – 2 – Turning back Tuesday

Serena stared at the news headlines scrolling across her vid implant as she weaved her way through the mass of morning commuters. Grey skies stretched into the distance, the rain seemingly never ending, and pulling her hood over her head to keep off the rain she watched as the report showed the fall of Mombassa and the rout of the Central African Forces.

M does a marvellous set of prompts each month, and whilst I couldn’t face anything more than the nonsensical last month after my In-Between effort of May this month I am good to go again and am going to do a series of things that could be the beginning of something. The prompts give me something to latch onto and to see what I can do with them and will be between 250 an d 500 words. They may be the beginning of something they may not. Sometimes I need to see it on paper to know how I feel about an idea and whether it will grow wings all of its own.

Today the prompt was Turning back Tuesday. I am sure you can see why…

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2018/07/01/july-writing-prompts/

“Hey watch yourself” barked a dark suited man as she nipped in front of him, clipping the briefcase he was carrying.

“Sorry mate.” She raised a hand by way and smiled to herself. People could be such stiffs.

Stood waiting for the lights to change Serena changed channels to ‘K-Pop-100’. Above, the buzz and whine of the faster vehicles darting through midtown filled the air, their neon undercarriages cutting through the gloom, while down at ground level the heavier transporters and trams rumbled through the puddles.

A breaking newsflash interrupted Serena’s vid as the lights blinked green and momentarily distracted she stepped out into the road. Before she could finish the headline she heard a scream and felt a hand on her shoulder and was dragged back onto the pavement as a heavy goods wagon thundered past inches from her face, the wind throwing back her hood.

“Oh my god” she started but as the words left her mouth everything froze.

Everywhere fell silent, unmoving, people mid stride and cars suspended in the air.

“Who the hell stopped her?” came a harsh voice from the crowd waiting to cross the road. “This was carefully planned. What threw it off?”

“No idea sir” came a second voice, this one more timid than the first. “Timings seem to be about a second out according to my readings. I can rewind and recalibrate if you want. We have enough time to do it over.”

There was a pause as a tall blonde haired man pressed through the bodies in front of him and stood in front of Serena. He wore a long dark coat over black trousers and shirt and his face was gaunt and pale. He reached out a hand and caressed her face.

“Shall I do it sir?” The second man asked as he squeezed past the unmoving pedestrians, a glowing tablet device in his grip. “We have about a minute to redo and resync the time line.”

The taller man sighed and cracked his knuckles before turning quickly and disappearing back into the crowd.

“Okay, rewind and redo,” he shouted, “and let Head Office know she’s incoming.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “And Po” he added menacingly.

“Yes?” said Po as he punched at the screen of the device in his hand.

“Don’t get it wrong.”

Beginnings – 1 – The Right of Wrongs

Today the prompt was The right of wrongs and it got me to thinking about right and wrong (obviously I hear you say) and the wrong of right and the rite of wrong and so on.

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2018/07/01/july-writing-prompts/

The pale lights lining the corridor flickered and dimmed as the ship descended slowly towards the planet surface. Je-Sar grimaced as the unfamiliar pull of gravity dragged on her, every movement suddenly a huge effort. The black clad guards pulled at her arms to keep her on her feet, their heavy jackboots clanging on the metal plate flooring..

“On your feet” the taller of the two barked. “You’ll get used to it soon enough. Now get in there.” He punched a flashing green button in a panel and it turned red and a door slid open with a hiss.

The second soldier laughed, his eyes cruel and a hand on his rifle. “It’s time to go home” he said. “We’ve looked after your kind long enough.”

Je-Sar fell through the door and turned to watch as it clanged closed behind her. The pod was small, with her arms spread wide she could touch all four of the plain metal walls that stared back at her. Save for a low metal bench along one side and a thick rimmed portal window there was nothing else inside.

She stared out through the small window as the planet below grew larger. A vast arid landscape stretching as far as she could see. It was A home she had never known.

A world to which she was being returned because there was no longer room for her kind up there.

Footprints – #writephoto

A revisiting of sorts

In response to Sue’s photo prompt.

“Hey Boss, have you seen what Mary’s been writing?”

“That footprints in the sand woman?”

“Yeah her”. Jonah scratched his head and laughed. “Did you have anything to do with it? I know what you’re like, whispering in their ears like you care”

“Look, I never asked to get stuck on this planet ok, I never asked to be immortal and I certainly never asked to be anyone’s lord and saviour. He continued, quite vexed, “2500 years I’ve been here. I get bored. Not once have those upstairs even bothered to so much as pop in and say ‘Good Job’ or read one of my reports, I’m sorry”

“What did you do?”

“Ok so I popped into her dream and I gave it all that ‘I was carrying you ‘ business. I also gave her cancer.”

“Boss, you’re such a dick.”

The Soldier Part 2

A thing where I only write every second piece

A.P. (I am sure he has a name but for the purposes of this we shall go with A.P.) asked me if I fancied some sort of collaboration thing when he writes a piece then I follow.

I was asked to do this before and I wanted to and then I realised I have less time than I would like to really make an effort so I didn’t do it. Nothing has changed but this time I said yes and so A.P. goes and makes a quite eloquent and intriguing post and I figured I better get it done as it would be frightfully rude not to so I seem to have written the follow up piece below.

There weren’t really any rules other than he does a piece then I do.

Oh well this is what I managed today between going to the tip, taking the boys to rugby, making dinner and then watching a film…

This is Part 1

The King sat and waited with a patience that he seldom enjoyed. Things in the palace were often so frightfully dull and for once there was cause for some excitement.

“Is it done” he asked as Bentwhistle laboured back through the room, the guards following closely behind. It wasn’t every day your sworn enemy met his doom so it was something to be savoured.

“Yes my Lord, he is banished.” Bentwhistle replied bowing ever so slightly and wringing his hands. “He will trouble you no more your majesty.” As much as he was a fool he was also still the King, and if he was to maintain any sway over the kingdom he needed to ensure that he kept his ear and protected his position.

The King’s face brightened measurably. “Oh that is good” he said clapping his hands like a young child. “So very good indeed, he really was quite the trouble maker you know. He did have me worried Bentwhistle, most troubled for sure.”

“He shall trouble you no more my liege, from this day forth he will know only the pain of an existence beyond this plain and for eternity the separation that a traitor deserves.” Bentwhistle smiled as he said this showing off blackened teeth in his dark red mouth. “

“And there’s no way back you say?” The King asked, still somewhat wary of anything that would challenge his throne. “Mother would not be happy if he was to return, you know how she is.”

“He is gone my Lord, there is no return from the Beyond.”

“Oh how excellent, Mother will be most pleased.” He said excitedly, his overly large head wobbling on a neck that seemed to struggle to keep the body and the head connected in anything other than a haphazard fashion.

The King reached for his cup. “A toast” he shouted loudly raising his cup into the air, wine sloshing from it onto the bounty of food laid out before him. The gathered court sat at long tables before him raised their glasses as they stood to their feet.

“To me” the King cried with great excitement and it echoed back.

“To King Luther” the court cried with little excitement over the banishment but considerably more gusto given the wine was now likely to flow all night. They raised their cups to the king and drank deep.

As the gathered dignitaries and officials tucked into the feast before them Bentwhistle backed slowly away from the king and slipped away through a side door behind the dais upon which the throne sat. There were things to be arranged and with everyone otherwise engaged this was the perfect opportunity.

Future Perfect 2

The tour shuttle cruised slowly above what remained of New York City harbour and came to a halt and hovered, her anti-grav fusion engines little more than a feint hum.

Jay peered through the flap of his small grubby tent, once white but now a mottled mass of browns and blacks. The storm seemed to have passed and already the sky was filling with the thick acrid smoke of camp fires. He pushed through to the outside and looking about, the thick mud seeping over the top of his shoes.

“Where you going boy?” Snapped the old man from the tent opposite. “You better be careful out there”

He might only be 13 but he had seen enough to know how to look after himself. Mr Brabbin was harmless enough, he had lost his wife and three children to the plague so could be forgiven being grumpy.

“I will Mr B” He said reaching down and patting the lump in his pocket, checking it was still there. “I’ll bring you back something.”

“Good boy” Mr Brabbin mumbled climbing back inside his tent “just like my Jacob”. Jay watched him disappear and headed off across the camp towards the river without bothering to secure his own tent, it wasn’t like he had anything worth stealing.

Through rows and rows he walked, people emerging and getting back to what they spent most of their days doing, which was not a great deal. Dirty faced children milled about and the smells and noise of a million refugees filled the air. The food drops were due soon, which was the highlight of the day, but outside of that it was a pretty miserable hand to mouth existence they lived. Each week an envoy from New York would fly over and update them with the latest immigration status, and each week it was the same old story. New York was full.

Even from this far out he could see her in the distance, her hab-zones reaching high into the sky. They were so large they dwarfed the old skyline, huge structures of concrete and glass built to house those that were lucky enough to make it in before they stopped all movement in an out of the city.

He followed the line of tents until they lead him down towards the shoreline, the black waters of the harbour stretching out before him in the distance. He picked up a rock and threw it at a sign that warned that a one hundred metre wide stretch of land around the water’s edge had been mined. He winced as the rock ricocheted from the sign and rolled across the ground.

He climbed up onto an oil drum and reached into his pocket pulling out a ration pack, ‘Courtesy of the New York City State’ stencilled across the silver foil packaging. Sitting there watching the shuttles buzzing around the high towers of the city in the distance he bit off the corner and squeezed the contents into his mouth. Probably Banana but it was hard to tell.

As palls of smoke drifted from the camp out towards the water’s edge he watched the supply drones growing larger as they headed across the bay towards them, large spider like craft with their legs wrapped around the containers of food and water. They would drop their contents and then monitor the distribution from above, with any sign of unrest ensuring that perpetrators would soon discover that they were also heavily armed.

He craned his neck as they buzzed overhead, shouts and commotion from the camp filling his ears. He finished his ration pack and screwed the packaging into a ball and tossed it towards the warning sign and watched it fall to the ground into a pile of the discarded silver packages.

The sound of a patrol boat in the harbour caused him to look up and hurriedly he pulled a small notepad and pencil from a pocket and scribbled the time and a description of the boat. Leafing back through the tattered pages he noticed that it was running a minute late. Pretty unusual for automated craft he thought.

For a while Jay just sat, scribbling notes into his book and watching the shadows grow longer as the sun began to dip in the sky. It wouldn’t be long now.

Soon two men emerged from the tents heading towards the shore about forty metres away. It was the nightly ritual, a run for the city and a chance of a life away from the desperation, death and disease of the camp. Dressed in little more than rages, their faces gaunt and eyes sallow they moved slowly, the setting sun warm on their backs.

They paused at the edge of the restricted area and then, without speaking, set off towards the waters edge. Jay watched, his heart racing and the paper in his hand shaking as step by step they drew nearer and nearer to the waters edge. A step became five metres and five metres became ten.

He noticed one turn to the other and smile but in that moment there was an ear splitting thud and an explosion of dirt and fire and both men were thrown up into the air like rag dolls. Limbs torn from their bodies they didn’t even have time to scream before they came back to earth in a plume of smoke and falling debris. The taller of the two set off a second ear splitting explosion as he landed and he disappeared in a pink mist spread across the ground and reflected in the late evening sun.

As the smoke drifted away Jay uncovered his ears and flicked through the pages of his note book. On a small diagram of the shore front he marked the spot where they had triggered the mines. Their loss was his gain, and it had him one step closer to his own freedom…

Future Perfect 1

The tour shuttle cruised slowly above what remained of New York City harbour and came to a halt and hovered, her anti-grav fusion engines little more than a feint hum.

The tour shuttle cruised slowly above what remained of New York City harbour and came to a halt and hovered, her anti-grav fusion engines little more than a feint hum. The low winter sun glistened off of her silver sides and inside her passengers pressed themselves to the windows. To the east and out towards the Atlantic they could see the city lights were already burning brightly, 25 million people crammed into towering glass and concrete hab-zones. To the west the refugee tents stretched as far as the eye could see, fires burning and palls of acrid smoke twisting and writhing into the sky.

Caleb pulled on his father’s sleeve.

“Why don’t they move to city dad?” He asked pointing to the tents.

His father paused. “There just isn’t room son” he said looking away. “The city is full.”

“Full?” Caleb said confused “we have a spare bedroom? We have lots of bedrooms.”

“It’s just full son” he said putting a hand on his shoulder.

Caleb looked at his father and knew that it was best not to ask again. He was a patient man but some times you had to know when to stop asking questions.

“Where do they come from?” he asked.

“From the south” his father answered “they’re the ones that made it.”

Caleb knew about the South, his tutor had talked about it. “They’re the ones that survived the plague? ” he asked.

“They are yes, many died but it could have been much worse.”

Caleb sat upright, he knew about this too. “Tutor said that if it wasn’t for the great wall we would all have died, we’d have been over run.”

“Exactly” his father replied proudly, “if it wasn’t for the wall none of us would be here now…”

Faeries: The long winter – Part 5

As far as she could see the dark pine trunks contrasted against the thick blanket of snow that stretched before her broken only by a dark smear of a track that wound its way through the wood just a stone’s throw from where she was now crouched.

I had the urge to return to this. Let’s have another part shall we. It was only ever meant to be one part…

Faeries: The long winter

Faeries: The long winter – Part 2

Faeries: The long winter – Part 3

Faeries: The long winter – Part 4

Kostromo brushed away the snow at the entrance of the narrow cave exit and looked out across the wood before her. As far as she could see the dark pine trunks contrasted against the thick blanket of snow that stretched before her broken only by a dark smear of a track that wound its way through the wood just a stone’s throw from where she was now crouched.

“It looks safe” she said to fox in the tunnel behind her. Behind fox, owl and rabbit pushed forward to get a glimpse of the wood.

“We must hurry” Owl insisted flapping impatiently. We must find a place to hide ourselves.”

“All in time my friend” Kostromo said turning to him. “All in good time. We must not be hasty, soon this road will be filled with those from whom we hide. We need only follow them from a distance, and we must not be seen.”

For many months now no news had come out of the north wood, and every time the Frog King had despatched his spies none had returned. Day after day reports of strange creatures marching down the road filtered back to his caves but never word about where they headed once they headed beyond the black river.

“Dark forces” muttered rabbit. “Dark forces indeed.”

They needed to know more so Kostromo had chosen rabbit, owl and fox because not only did they have keen sight but they were brave, they knew the wood as well as any of the animals and were fleet enough to escape should they be seen.

“Owl, take cover in the highest branches and hide yourself well” Kostromo instructed moving to one side to allow her to pass.”

Owl nodded and blinked and in a flash she hopped from the mouth of the cave and launched into the cold morning air, disappearing into the tree tops.

“Rabbit, fox” Kostromo continued, “head up the bank to the left and follow the path to the north from up on the ridge. Stay below the ridgeline and do not let them see you. I shall wait here until they pass.”

Without a word rabbit and fox slipped from the cave and disappeared into the snow leaving Kostromo alone in the small entrance in the side of the hill. She should be safe up here, it was close to the road but the entrance remained obscured by the fresh snow that had fallen the night before.

After only a short while Kostromo heard something approaching from the south. Something unfamiliar. At first the noises were muffled and difficult to make out against the whistle of the icy wind that blew through the pines, but they soon turned to the stamp of marching feet and the clink and thud of metal on wood and leather.

She crouched low and pressed up against the side of the cave entrance, her gossamer wings pulled in tight. She melted into the shadows and watched as a small squat creature burst through the trees and scurried along the path, stopping in the road directly across from where Kostromo hid. She held her breath. It was nothing she had ever seen before, the size of a badger but with a longer head and with small red eyes set deep in its skull. It raised its h It was covered from head to tail with thick black fur and a long tailed trailed through the snow behind it. Slowly it sniffed the air looking about then stood quite still. It looked high up into the tree tops and then up to the ridgeline and then raised itself up onto its back legs as if searching for something. It was then that Kostromo noticed the rows of long sharp white teeth in the creatures blood red mouth.

She held her breath, heart beating furiously in her chest. Surely it could not have detected them. What felt like minutes passed as the creature stood, nose high in the air. The noise of the thump of feet grew louder and louder and Kostromo saw a dark mass of creatures break through the trees heading down the track.

Every part of her screamed hide but she felt transfixed, terrified to move for fear of the creature spotting her. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm her mind and slow her racing pulse. She breathed deep and slowly opened them again. She looked out towards the path and noticed the creature was no longer sniffing the air.

It was staring straight towards where she was hidden.

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Faeries: The long winter – Part 4

Through the caves the frog king led Kostromo, following the light of the river as it lead ever downwards. They passed through a small narrowing in the cave wall and she could feel the rock against her skin

I had the urge to return to this. Let’s have another part shall we.

Faeries: The long winter

Faeries: The long winter – Part 2

Faeries: The long winter – Part 3

“By the light of the river and the warmth of the earth have we survived these many years” said the frog king as he hopped alongside Kostromo. “Were it not for this place we would surely have fallen to the darkness long ago.”

The narrowing in the rock wall had lead to another large cavern, the ground flatter than before and the river now wider and throwing up more light into the space. She could not see the ceiling but on both sides were steep craggy walls. She noticed movement as she looked about and as her eyes became accustomed to the light she could make out row upon row of small caves scattered.

“Welcome to our home” the frog King said with a smile.

He hopped down to a small raised area next to the river and croaked loudly, the noise reverberating around the space. Slowly there emerged from the dark caves all manner of creature and they began to make their way slowly to where the Frog King waited.

“So many creatures” she said to herself as she watched them descend and pass her. A wood nymph brushed by her and nodded slowly. Her skin that of a silver birch, slender arms and legs and her hair a mass of dark green tousles.

It seemed all the creatures of the wood were here, magical and non magical alike. From high up the wood sprites fluttered down slowly, their gossamer wings blue from the light of the river. Butterflies, sparrows, larks, dragon flies and all manner of flying creatures filled the air and around her feet there there gathered what seemed to be every creature that had roamed the forest that would have eagerly welcomed her in years gone by.

The magical creatures stayed further back, as if uncertain of her presence. She noticed two squat cave trolls whispering to each other and a dryad looked away as Kostromo tried to catch her gaze.

“People of the forest” boomed the Frog King, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. “We have long waited in the dark and in the cold, resigned to the long winter.”

There was a bustle of chatter and a family of field mice scuttled up the nymph to get a better view. Though the Frog King was speaking Kostromo felt all eyes on her.

“But now, Kostromo has returned once more. There is hope once again that spring may return to the forest.”

The Frog King paused dramatically. At first there was silence, no creature spoke and none moved.

“Spring has returned” shouted the younger of the field mice that had earlier found it’s vantage point in the hair of the nymph. “Kostromo has returned.”

As if released of their fears, a cry of celebration went up from the gathered creatures. The great cavern reverberated with the shouts and calls as they gathered around her and the Frog King.

He looked across at her, his blue eyes shining and smiled.

Photo courtesy of pixabay

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.”

Carrot Ranch Rodeo Challenge 5

In Challenge 5 of the Carrot Ranch Rodeo, writers were tasked with writing a complete 99-word story using Twitter.

In Challenge 5 of the Carrot Ranch Rodeo, writers were tasked with writing a complete 99-word story using Twitter. Of course, they couldn’t make it that simple. Every #Twitterflash story also had to be 11 sentences with exactly 9 words each. This was my effort which was singled out by one of the judges which I was dead chuffed about.

Is anyone else seeing what I’m seeing out there?

If this is how things end I’m getting drunk!

Apparently they come in peace, but my mate Jed’s disappeared!

How drunk am I because I think Im #insideaspaceship

I’ve managed to evade them, is anyone reading this?

Ive found Jed, watching him from an air vent.

Sweet Jesus, they seem to be probing him now!

How the dickens did they fit that in there!?!?.

I think the bloody things are laughing you know.

Oh bloody hell they’ve spotted me, PLEASE SEND HELP!

The visitors are our friends and come in peace.

C. Jai Ferry (@CJaiFerry) commented:

“#PickALineAnyLine! If I had seen any of these lines on Twitter, I would have immediately clicked to read more. Each line is a story in itself, and I had to read faster and faster to see how it all worked out.”

Tales of Tinsel – Room 101

101 words with a twist thrown in just because…

Let’s do another month of M’s prompts shall we. 101 words allowed only. I know I said I was done with them. I lie.

Slowly Damien sneaked downstairs, not daring to breathe. He’d heard something, and he was convinced it was him! Christmas lights twinkled as he entered the room, his heart pounding, and there he saw a bearded, round bellied man silhouetted against the moonlight.

He had him!

“Sant…” he began to shout when suddenly he noticed two bodies lying unmoving on the floor. He knew from the matching reindeer slippers it was mum and dad.

The man stepped grinning from the darkness carrying a large sack and raised a gun with his free hand and pushed it into Damien’s chest.

“Merry Christmas kid…”

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Room 101

So, 30 prompts, 30 days, whatever 30 times 101 words amounts to…

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

Okay this was scheduled but I want to be done with the challenge, so I am pressing publish right now!

Now, as challenges go that was quite something . I set myself the goal of using every single November daily writing prompt from Michelle’s page and to do a 101 words on each, all on something a bit weird or odd.

As a writing experience I tackled it by writing all the prompts on a page in word and then under each I bashed out the basic outline for the story and the twist. The prompts really fired my imagination and I did the whole lot in one go and it took me about an hour or so. A few changed as I progressed but for the most part what you see on my blog is what I planned on day one.

Now I only started the challenge on the tenth of November, so I thought I would do one a day and catch up the others along the way but as it turned out I wrote the first 8 in one day (as I had a day off work) and within 7 days I had written all 30. Once I started I seemed to not be able to stop and it felt great ticking them off and completing that idea.

I’m not quite sure where I found the time but the planning helped in that I was working on them in my head before I started writing. A few took some heavy editing in terms of word count early on but by the 30^th post I could mostly write it and come in at about 100 words without trying.

What I like is that I think I could probably do something more substantial with each one so am really happy with it as a process, even if some of them are a bit crap.

Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed them and thanks again M for the prompts, they were fab! If you don’t follow Michelle you should. Do it.

Michael

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Bedknobs and Broomsticks – Room 101

Saving the worst for last.

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

Okay. This is the last Room 101 and the most stupid and rubbish. It is an unedited version that I bashed out and when I read it I had not a clue what the hell was going on. Broomsticks made me think witches, bedknobs made me think bed knobs and that got me to dildo’s and suddenly we have this abomination. It made me laugh though so stupid is it and I thought I would leave it as it is as a reminder to myself that its okay to have a really crappy first draft and sometimes ideas just don’t work.

The swirling contents of the large Iron pot hissed and fizzed as Hilda tossed in a handful of wolfsbane. “Agnes, fetch the stranglewort from my bag” She asked leaning over the pot.

“This is brewing up very nicely indeed” she said to herself cackling.

“This?” Agnes said holding up a small silver bottle she’d taken from a large cloth bag.

“No no girl” Hilda snapped.

“How about this?” she said presenting a posy of white flowers.

“No, STRANGLEWORT” Hilda said angrily.”

Agnes rummaged around.

“This?” she said holding up large wooden dildo.

Hilda blushed.

“Let’s just leave it out shall we…”

Photo courtesy of pixabay

The art of boredom – Room 101

Ever feel like this is all just one big joke?

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

“Boss, that’s a terrible idea” Caleb said shaking his head.

AJ smiled, his brown eyes twinkling. “I’m telling you they’re stupid enough to fall for it.”

“You think?”

“Oh absolutely, remember Hitler?. You underestimate their self-destructive nature.”

“But why? Seriously?”

AJ huffed. “I’m bored. Bored of this planet, bored of these people. I really do need a new assignment.” He paused, sensing Caleb was almost persuaded. “Plus it could be hilarious, especially when it comes out what he did to his daughter.”

“Fine” said Caleb resigned. “But don’t blame me when head office find out.”

AJ grinned. “Good call, good call”

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Ceiling wax – Room 101

Sam closed his eyes and pulled the blankets over his head to block out the scuttling of the creature across the ceiling…

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

Sam closed his eyes and pulled the blankets over his head to block out the scuttling of the creature across the ceiling. He knew it was there, he could see the trail it left. Every night it appeared, crawling and scratching and watching him as he slept.

He would wake his mother screaming but she simply could not see it.

“There’s nothing there” she’d insist before kissing him on the forehead and tucking him in tightly.

“It’s just a dream Samuel” she would say as she closed the door.

The creature scuttled into the dark recess of the corner and waited…

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Never-ending sugar cubes – Room 101

Sugar? Or are you already sweet enough?

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

Splosh plink went the sugar cube as Damien dropped it into his tea. He reached back into the bowl and with the silver tongs took two more.

“Lady Grey” he said taking a sip, “It’s rather good you know, a classic black tea with the fragrant flavour of orange, bergamot and lemon.”

His guest did not reply.

“Yes, really helps to get the fatty taste out of one’s mouth when the flesh begins to sour” he said stirring slowly.

Again there was no reply.

He was going to need a new guest for dinner, this one was decidedly on the turn.

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Old Words

Ma-lach stirred to the sound of waves slapping against the sides of his small wooden boat.

A piece I did for the Carrot Ranch Rodeo #3. As I recall it needed to have a septolet in there and be on the subject of magic or some such and be 299 words . It was rather a long time ago I can’t quite remember.

Ma-lach stirred to the sound of waves slapping against the sides of his small wooden boat. Head spinning he peered over the edge to see large swells on all sides as the strong current dragged him away from the disappearing silhouette of land in the distance. White horses reared atop the cold grey waves and the sound and smell of the sea filled his senses.

He winced as he fingered a large wound on the side of his head, and as his boat was tossed on the heaving waters he grappled with vague images and half thoughts trying to remember how he had come to be here. Dark shadows clouded his mind but somewhere in the confusion and pain there was the memory of an attack on their settlement and the screams of his children.

Hours passed as he drifted in and out of consciousness, the skies darkening and the wind driving the seas into a violent frenzy. As lightning fizzed across the skies, thunder rumbling, he awoke once more as rain began to fall.

Instinctively he reached for the amulet around his neck and with rain running down his face he remembered the face of his grandfather, now long returned to the earth, and he recalled the words the old man had taught him as a boy.

Eyes closed face to the skies he instinctively called out:

Silver seas

Cold blue Ice

Rain and river

We are

Of you

always

Yield

The waves roared and then, almost instantly, the wind ceased, the storm was calmed and the frenzied crash of the sea was replaced by the sound of rain falling onto the calmed waters. He collapsed back into the boat as eddies swirled around the stern and it slowly began to drift against the current back towards shore.

Beads of Sweat – Room 101

He ran his tongue slowly across her stomach, bead of sweat pooling on her soft pale skin.

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

He ran his tongue slowly across her stomach, caressing her as beads of sweat pooled on her soft pale skin. He breathed deep, her perfume filling his senses and his heart racing.

“I’ve wanted this for so long” he said tasting her on his lips, “I knew we were meant to be.”

Running his coarse hands the length of her outstretched body he pulled himself on top of her.

“I love the taste of your sweat” he whispered in her ear.

He paused.

“God, what was I thinking” he said licking his lips and laughing “let’s start again. Dead flesh can’t sweat”

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Incessant Dreaming – Room 101

Each night since he moved in the woman from the picture filled his dreams. Her red hair, cherry lips and alabaster skin consuming him.

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

Each night since he moved in the woman from the picture filled his dreams. Her red hair, cherry lips and alabaster skin consuming him.

“Stay with me” she would ask, and he would swear he would remain but with mornings advent they were parted.

“Why do you forsake me” she asked, “don’t you love me?”

“I do” he insisted, “with everything”.

“Then you know what to do.”

As his limp hand dropped the bottle of sleeping tablets, his life ebbing away, she appeared one final time – her face now a mask of death.

“Sleep” she said smiling, “welcome to my home.”

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Faeries: The long winter – Part 3

…”Open” she cried, jaw clenched as she tumbled unsure of which was up and which down. Her heart raced, surely she hadn’t escapade the cold earth and the wolves only for it to end like this.

I thought I’d give this another stab. I use it as practice really and to explore things in my head that I can’t quite get out…

Faeries: The long winter

Faeries: The long winter – Part 2

Kostromo tumbled through the opening into nothing, the howl of the wolves fading as she fell head over heels into the darkness of the cavern below. With light fading fast she attempted to once more open her wings, and this time she felt them move ever so slightly as she strained.

“Open” she cried, jaw clenched as she tumbled unsure of which way up and which down. Her heart raced, surely she hadn’t escapade the cold earth and the wolves only for it to end like this.

Eyes closed she willed them to again open with all she and this time they burst free from the icy fingers that had held them so tight, and in the blink of an eye she ceased to fall.

On gossamer silver wings she hovered in the middle of the cavern, high above her she could still see the light streaming through the opening she had slipped through. She looked about but everything was so very dark. Looking down she could see a feint ribbon of blue light cutting through the inky blackness. It was hard to tell how far away it was. Was it the Cavern floor?

There was no way she could go back out the way she had came, so slowly she began to float downwards. Occasionally she could just make out cold rock faces here and there and as she descended silently the sliver of blue began to shimmer more brightly and she could hear the feint trickle of water.

It was a river, and as it neared she could see that it glowed with a soft blue light illuminating the area adjacent to where it ran. Small tufts of grass, daffodils and crocus followed its path as it carved it’s way across the cavern floor and silver sprats could be seen swimming in the shallows, larger fish breaking the surface then darting back below the swirling waters.

She alighted gently alongside the river, he wings still beating slowly. The cold seemed to have lessened, and as she stood bathed in the light of the waters she heard a voice.

“Welcome faery” it said. It was an old voice, and familiar.

“Frog King” she exclaimed excitedly “Show yourself”.

From the shimmering waters the largest frog you will ever see emerged, his skin dancing shades of emerald greens and golds and his eyes as blue as the light of the river. He heaved himself onto the bank not far from her, the water cascading from the bumps and lumps of his skin. Kostromo bowed in respect. The frog king was one of the oldest of the woodland kings and was already old beyond memory when she was still a youngling.

“Welcome Kostromo” he said bowing his head in response, “we had all but given up hope of seeing your kind again.”

“Oak awakened me” she said as a dragonfly whizzed past her head.

“Winter has continued unchecked without you Kostromo, and for many many seasons, without your light all of the creatures have suffered.”

“But why was I not awakened?” She asked.

“When you last slept there was an awakening of a darkness that we have not seen before and…” The Frog King paused.

“What is it?” Kostromo pressed.

He looked at her with eyes that were piercing blue like the heart of an ice berg and blinked.

“Your sister was taken Kostromo, she was unable to wake you and so the winter saw no end”

“Taken? By whom?”

“There are things under the heavens, old forces and long forgotten, that have returned child” he answered in his deep croaking voice “creatures from the darkness and another time that few of us still recall and that we had thought vanquished.”

Kostromo stood still, her head spinning as she struggled with the words of The Frog King.

“Where is Lucia” she demanded. “Where is she, I will free her” she insisted.

“Patience fairy” Frog King cautioned “now is not the time for such things, first you must eat and rest. We have much to discuss.”

Photo courtest of Photoparisienne@pixabay

Faeries: The long winter – Part 2

Where once she would have expected to see the verdant greens of springtime, punctuated with the vibrant explosions of tulips, daffodils and bluebells, now only a blanket of white stretched as far as she could see and the trees she so cherished stood grey, silent and bare.

You can read Part 1 here.

Kostromo slowly untangled herself from the thick oak roots that had freed her from the cold weight of the earth, and rubbing her eyes she got to her feet and stretched in the cold crisp afternoon air. Grey clouds hovered ominously in the distance and an icy wind blew flurries of snow about her feet. She attempted to spread her gossamer wings, glistening still with the finest of ice crystals, but they would not open.

The air was sharp and unfamiliar as she breathed, chilling her to her core, and as she became accustomed to the brightness once more she gazed out upon an world so very changed from the one she loved. She gasped, never had she seen such a sight.

“How long has it been this way Oak?” she asked.

“Too long faery” Oak mumbled, his voice seemed to vibrate inside of her “far too long indeed.”

She began to speak but Oak cut her short. “Run Kostromo, you must run.” he growled.

With Oak’s warning still ringing in her ears she picked up the distant howl and bark of wolves. Wolves were never a good thing, and she was already moving as Oak’s voice rumbled deep inside her again “Run faery run!”

With everything still so foreign she raced through the snow as fast as she could in what she guessed was the opposite direction of the howls. The cold slowed her, deep drifts causing her to stumble as trees flashed by in a blur. Moving downhill, trees rising high on both sides, she could hear the very feint trickle of water as the ground levelled off in front of her.

Her breath blossomed as a swirling rose as she exhaled, her heart racing as she again attempted to spread her wings but still to no avail. Slumbering trees stirred as she pressed on, whispers of “faster” echoing in her head as her legs carried her onwards.

With the howls and barks now even closer she leapt over a fallen birch and looking up she caught a flash of a dark silhouette running along the hill top parallel to her. Instantly she knew they had caught her up and were now hunting her.

Heart pounding she ran and ran, straining to put distance between herself and the pursuing pack. She could sense them drawing in around her when recognised a familiar rocky outcrop ahead of her and knew instantly where she was. If only she could make it there she would be able to slip down inside the small opening she knew was at the base of it into which the river trickled into a large underground opening. Many times as a youngling she had crawled inside and fluttered down exploring the huge expanse below.

Focussed she raced, it was now close, and as she looked up to her right as she ran and saw a large grey female wolf tracking her and heading down the hill towards her. She looked left, more were there but she could not see them yet. A howl sounded as stumbled in a drift, but in an instant she was back on her feet and focussed on nothing but the base of the outcrop which was now so very close.

“Faster Faery” she heard in her head as she raced past a tall Elm.

The female had travelled down the hill and was now not far behind her and catching her fast.

Not long to the opening Kostromo told herself, her heart pounding in her chest. The grey female bounded through the snow behind her and was now joined by a second larger male, teeth bared and eyes dark. Kostromo could hear jaws snapping, but she was now almost at the opening. It was there, she could see it.

One final burst and she dived for the small entrance, head first and burst through the snow bank and into the hole, the wolves snapping at her heels. She slid inside on the frozen surface of the river bed, gasping, lungs bursting and the wolves growling and snarling, heads thrust into the opening but too large to pass through.

“I’m safe” she thought to herself as she continued to slide and then in a moment she was falling uncontrollably, downwards, into the darkness.

Photo Courtesy Of Kellepics@pixabay

Want other different stuff?

something terrible happens in this one

In this one there is a girl in the rain

and this might make you laugh but maybe you wont admit it

oh and this one i am rather proud of

A Donald inspired tale of madness

My response to the Friday Fictioneers 100 word challenge inspired by the photo above. 99 words.

My response to the Friday Fictioneers 100 word challenge inspired by the photo above. 99 words.

Andromeda’s orbital engines hummed as Cole and Yin walked towards the marker on their heads up display, helmet lights slicing through the darkness.

Yin stooped and placed a soil sample in his analyser, noticing a pair of ash and cobweb encrusted shoes placed side by side. The map showed a school had once stood here. He poked the cobwebs with a gloved finger, and a small spider scuttled along the silky strands.

“Guess this place is all yours now mate” he said sadly, his helmet display blinking orange.

“Cole, radiation spike” Yin shouted, “get back to the shuttle, now!”

Want more stuff?

Armitage – Part 1

Harold

Armitage – Part 2 Armitage – Part 2

Crow and Sparrow

Crow shuffled atop the pole and glanced across at sparrow. He was not a fan of small birds, he found them most tiresome with all of their constant cheeping and chirping.

“A very good morning” said sparrow as she alighted on the telephone wire just a short distance from crow, “Lovely day isn’t it.”

Crow shuffled atop the pole and glanced across at sparrow. He was not a fan of small birds, he found them most tiresome with all of their constant cheeping and chirping.

“Is it?” he said. Crow rather liked his peace and quiet.

“Oh indeed, indeed” Sparrow chirped excitedly.

“And why is that then?” Crow asked, not at all interested.

Sparrow flapped her wings excitedly then settled back onto the telephone wire. “Well it seems that Owl said that he was told by Frog that it will rain later today, and you know what that means don’t you Crow?”

“Go on” said crow

“Worms” exclaimed sparrow “juicy, chubby, delicious worms.”

“Is that so?” replied crow as he watched the girl with the fat bottom and her dog cross the farm yard below and then surveyed the sky. “Doesn’t look like rain to me” he said quite matter of fact.

Sparrow looked about, the sky was blue and there barely a cloud to be seen.

“But Owl said…” said sparrow trailing off, her dark eyes scanning the sky for any signs of rain. “Does that mean there won’t be worms?”

“Maybe there will be rain, maybe there won’t” said Crow with some pleasure “but if you ask me then I would say that no, there will not be any juicy fat worms today for you sparrow.”

“Oh” said sparrow now quite sad. “I was looking forward to some juicy fat worms”, and with that she flew off in search of breakfast.

“Maybe next time sparrow” shouted Crow after her, smiling a quite wicked smile as he watched the fat bottomed girl and dog return from feeding the chickens. Crow did not like dog or the fat bottomed girl either. The girl ruffled dog’s head as they reached the farm house.

“Better get my coat girl” she said as she passed inside, the dog barking excitedly at the thought of a day on the tractor “lots of rain forecast this afternoon and I don’t want to get too wet.”

Harold

I wrote this for the carrot ranch 99 word challenge but forgot to post it.

I wrote this for the carrot ranch 99 word challenge but forgot to post it. Its a 99 word challenge in response to the picture above. You should check it out, its s rather good site. Ill post it anyway, waste not want not…

Harold stood and watched the waves slap hypnotically against the shingle beach.

“Looks cold” Harold said.

“It’ll be fine” the voices replied.

One step forward, the waves lapping at his feet

“Do it” the voices urged, “do it now, jump!”

Two steps back. No, this wasn’t the right time.

“Get it over with Harold, now.” They pressed.

Fear gripped, three steps back. “This is wrong, I don’t want to do it anymore, I want to live” he cried.

He turned and ran straight into his father “Goodness” he said, “It’s ok Harold, maybe you’ll get your feet wet tomorrow”

More stuff…my stuff bucket overrunneth…

Glorious – Daily Prompt

Your lunchtime limerick 10/9/17

I don’t have a dog called Caper – Daily prompt