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Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Flash Fiction Week of January 9th
Last week was a good week for me with the flash contests. Always nice to get recognition. My goal this week was to write all of my flash contests in the universe of my WIP, with the hopes I can use some of the material in the actual story. If not usable, it will still keep my mind in those characters.
#MenageMonday
Title: Off-Roading in Style
(#WIP500)
“David, this vehicle is not appropriate for off-roading,” Alana said as she looked over the three-wheeler.
“What do you mean? The guy at the rental place said this was perfect for looking at the terminal garbage glacial stuff up in the hills.”
“They’re called terminal moraines, David.”
“Yeah, glacial garbage.”
Alana rolled her eyes and examined the vehicle again. She really didn’t see how this was practical, but she’d take a chance on it. With a deep breath, she grabbed a helmet and tossed David the other one.
“Time to saddle up, big boy.”
----------------------------------------
#MotivationMonday
Title: Guardians
(This is also the cliffnotes version of my WIP if you are curious)
An ancient legend tells of a sword and stone, but this was something different. It was still a battle of good versus evil, except with a shepherd’s crook in stead of a sword and a womb for the stone.
In a small town in Maine, a woman returned after being gone since she was a small child. She had no idea of the evil that was laying in wait for her. A small group of men, overtaken by a timeless evil, had killed her parents and now were after her.
She was the ultimate Creator. She was the last daughter from the Original. She was the symbol of woman, of she who brought life into the world. The men were Destroyers. They reigned with delight in chaos and death.
What the Destroyers failed to realize was that without life there was no death, and vice versa. Life needed death and death needed life, as long as there was always more life to sustain the next cycle. If the destroyers ever truly won the war for good, it would be the end for everyone and everything. The Creators knew that and strived to always be one step ahead.
Until they almost weren’t.
When the Destroyers killed the last daughter’s parents, they thought they had gotten an edge. What they didn’t realize is that there were protectors out there.
Hope was in sight.
A man stood up for the last daughter and kept her safe from the evil that tried to get to her, to make her crazy, to kill her. He was a guardian. With an innocent shepherd’s crook, his symbol of his protection and strength, he stayed the wave of evil until the last daughter was strong enough.
In an epic battle, she released the men from the evil that held them. The spirits of the Destroyers were free, but without bodies, they could no longer harm her or anyone else. The last daughter was free to fulfill her destiny and create new life the only way she knew how.
------------------------------------------------
#TuesdayTales
Title: Purity of White
“I hate pink,” Matilda declared.
“We can paint it, Maddie,” her mom said with desperation.
“No, you can’t.”
Maddie faced her mother while sitting on her pristine white bed in her pristine white bedroom. Her eyes were wide, seemingly innocent, entirely deceptive. Her mother cringed back in fear, no longer defiant.
“Remove it,” the child demanded. “Now!”
Maddie’s mother hurried to the wall and began scrubbing with the hem of her shirt.
“Harder! I still see it!”
The woman scrubbed as hard as she could, even using her hands and wrists, until blood began smearing across the wall.
“Much better.”
------------------------------------------------
#5MinuteFiction
Title: Life in a Dream
I awoke in my bed, much the same as every day, wishing it was not. My husband’s clothes were tossed about the room, wherever he decided to throw them and his collection of coffee cups littered his bedside table. My frequent requests for him to clean up after himself always went unheeded and I was tired of picking up after him. We had three kids already. I didn’t need or want a forth.
With a grumble, I trudged through the mess into the living room. Again, it was much the same. The destruction that only kids could create was aided by my husband’s increasing laziness. The dish washer was full of clean dishes just waiting to be put away, while the sink was full of dirty ones. Shoes were all over the floor, interspaced with the occasional dog toy. Jackets were flung over the back of the couch in a pile.
I wanted to scream. Instead, I sighed with resignation and started to pick up the room. As I turned with an armload of shoes, I tripped on a dog bone. The last thing I heard was the clatter of shoes.
I woke on a wicker lounger on a beach with a tanned, buff man kneeling next to me with a plate of chocolates and a bottle of wine in his hands.
“Are you okay, Shar?” he asked, setting the plate down and running his hand down my arm.
“Yes, I think. I had such a horrible nightmare,” I replied with a moment of clarity.
“Was it the messy house again?”
I nodded as he fed me a piece of chocolate. As the treat melted on my tongue, I smiled at my little slice of perfection.
------------------------------------------------
#HumpDayChallenge
Title: Through a Child’s Eyes
The little girl watched the lemurs in the zoo enclosure, her mind awhirl at what they were thinking and doing in their little world.
Doris, the female with the fluffiest tail, was being serenaded by Boris, the tallest male. She twittered as he sang, clearly pleased with his efforts. She shook her tail at him as he scampered over to the pool and gathered water in his hands like a goblet for his intended.
To the little girl, she thought it was a celebration. The small creatures looked so happy, completely different from the generic description the zoo guide provided.
--------------------------------------------------
#ThursdayThreads
Title: The End of the Cycle
(#WIP500)
David and Alana raced down the street of downtown Wardville, the skies darkening as they ran. The destroyers were gathering power quickly. If they didn’t get to the town hall in time, it would be too late. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Alana barely had time to digest everything she had found out about who and what she was and the significance of her pendant before she and David were literally running for their lives.
It had been an interesting day to say the least.
They burst through the doors of the town hall and were encased in darkness. Alana gasped in surprise, expecting there to be at least emergency lights on. David grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently.
“You ready for this?” she asked, as her eyes scanned the room, looking for the men who were the cause of all the evil happening.
He nodded with a smirk. “No place I’d rather be. I’m strong like bull,” he said, affecting a fake Russian accent.
“Sure you are, tough guy.” Alana laughed, her heart lifting before they got down to business.
-----------------------------------------------
#FridayPictureShow
(This got submitted a few minutes too late to count but it was still fun to write.)
I remained, observing all. I was there in the day. I was there in the night. I was solemn when people came to mourn and I was pleased when the deceased spirits rose to their final rest.
Life continued by me, and still I remained.
Flowers grew, bloomed, and withered, only to grow again the next spring..
The trees grew taller and fuller each season, shedding their leaves like a layer of skin before growing again.
Still I remained and observed.
My presence was never noticed. I was as still as stone, observing all, for all time.
I remained.
#MenageMonday
Title: Off-Roading in Style
(#WIP500)
“David, this vehicle is not appropriate for off-roading,” Alana said as she looked over the three-wheeler.
“What do you mean? The guy at the rental place said this was perfect for looking at the terminal garbage glacial stuff up in the hills.”
“They’re called terminal moraines, David.”
“Yeah, glacial garbage.”
Alana rolled her eyes and examined the vehicle again. She really didn’t see how this was practical, but she’d take a chance on it. With a deep breath, she grabbed a helmet and tossed David the other one.
“Time to saddle up, big boy.”
----------------------------------------
#MotivationMonday
Title: Guardians
(This is also the cliffnotes version of my WIP if you are curious)
An ancient legend tells of a sword and stone, but this was something different. It was still a battle of good versus evil, except with a shepherd’s crook in stead of a sword and a womb for the stone.
In a small town in Maine, a woman returned after being gone since she was a small child. She had no idea of the evil that was laying in wait for her. A small group of men, overtaken by a timeless evil, had killed her parents and now were after her.
She was the ultimate Creator. She was the last daughter from the Original. She was the symbol of woman, of she who brought life into the world. The men were Destroyers. They reigned with delight in chaos and death.
What the Destroyers failed to realize was that without life there was no death, and vice versa. Life needed death and death needed life, as long as there was always more life to sustain the next cycle. If the destroyers ever truly won the war for good, it would be the end for everyone and everything. The Creators knew that and strived to always be one step ahead.
Until they almost weren’t.
When the Destroyers killed the last daughter’s parents, they thought they had gotten an edge. What they didn’t realize is that there were protectors out there.
Hope was in sight.
A man stood up for the last daughter and kept her safe from the evil that tried to get to her, to make her crazy, to kill her. He was a guardian. With an innocent shepherd’s crook, his symbol of his protection and strength, he stayed the wave of evil until the last daughter was strong enough.
In an epic battle, she released the men from the evil that held them. The spirits of the Destroyers were free, but without bodies, they could no longer harm her or anyone else. The last daughter was free to fulfill her destiny and create new life the only way she knew how.
------------------------------------------------
#TuesdayTales
Title: Purity of White
“I hate pink,” Matilda declared.
“We can paint it, Maddie,” her mom said with desperation.
“No, you can’t.”
Maddie faced her mother while sitting on her pristine white bed in her pristine white bedroom. Her eyes were wide, seemingly innocent, entirely deceptive. Her mother cringed back in fear, no longer defiant.
“Remove it,” the child demanded. “Now!”
Maddie’s mother hurried to the wall and began scrubbing with the hem of her shirt.
“Harder! I still see it!”
The woman scrubbed as hard as she could, even using her hands and wrists, until blood began smearing across the wall.
“Much better.”
------------------------------------------------
#5MinuteFiction
Title: Life in a Dream
I awoke in my bed, much the same as every day, wishing it was not. My husband’s clothes were tossed about the room, wherever he decided to throw them and his collection of coffee cups littered his bedside table. My frequent requests for him to clean up after himself always went unheeded and I was tired of picking up after him. We had three kids already. I didn’t need or want a forth.
With a grumble, I trudged through the mess into the living room. Again, it was much the same. The destruction that only kids could create was aided by my husband’s increasing laziness. The dish washer was full of clean dishes just waiting to be put away, while the sink was full of dirty ones. Shoes were all over the floor, interspaced with the occasional dog toy. Jackets were flung over the back of the couch in a pile.
I wanted to scream. Instead, I sighed with resignation and started to pick up the room. As I turned with an armload of shoes, I tripped on a dog bone. The last thing I heard was the clatter of shoes.
I woke on a wicker lounger on a beach with a tanned, buff man kneeling next to me with a plate of chocolates and a bottle of wine in his hands.
“Are you okay, Shar?” he asked, setting the plate down and running his hand down my arm.
“Yes, I think. I had such a horrible nightmare,” I replied with a moment of clarity.
“Was it the messy house again?”
I nodded as he fed me a piece of chocolate. As the treat melted on my tongue, I smiled at my little slice of perfection.
------------------------------------------------
#HumpDayChallenge
Title: Through a Child’s Eyes
The little girl watched the lemurs in the zoo enclosure, her mind awhirl at what they were thinking and doing in their little world.
Doris, the female with the fluffiest tail, was being serenaded by Boris, the tallest male. She twittered as he sang, clearly pleased with his efforts. She shook her tail at him as he scampered over to the pool and gathered water in his hands like a goblet for his intended.
To the little girl, she thought it was a celebration. The small creatures looked so happy, completely different from the generic description the zoo guide provided.
--------------------------------------------------
#ThursdayThreads
Title: The End of the Cycle
(#WIP500)
David and Alana raced down the street of downtown Wardville, the skies darkening as they ran. The destroyers were gathering power quickly. If they didn’t get to the town hall in time, it would be too late. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Alana barely had time to digest everything she had found out about who and what she was and the significance of her pendant before she and David were literally running for their lives.
It had been an interesting day to say the least.
They burst through the doors of the town hall and were encased in darkness. Alana gasped in surprise, expecting there to be at least emergency lights on. David grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently.
“You ready for this?” she asked, as her eyes scanned the room, looking for the men who were the cause of all the evil happening.
He nodded with a smirk. “No place I’d rather be. I’m strong like bull,” he said, affecting a fake Russian accent.
“Sure you are, tough guy.” Alana laughed, her heart lifting before they got down to business.
-----------------------------------------------
#FridayPictureShow
(This got submitted a few minutes too late to count but it was still fun to write.)
I remained, observing all. I was there in the day. I was there in the night. I was solemn when people came to mourn and I was pleased when the deceased spirits rose to their final rest.
Life continued by me, and still I remained.
Flowers grew, bloomed, and withered, only to grow again the next spring..
The trees grew taller and fuller each season, shedding their leaves like a layer of skin before growing again.
Still I remained and observed.
My presence was never noticed. I was as still as stone, observing all, for all time.
I remained.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Flash Fiction Week of January 2nd
Happy New Years!
I hope your New Years went well and that the start of the new years is off to a good foot. I didn't do any flash fiction last week, taking a bit of a break from it for the holiday. The start of January not only brought me refreshed for flash fiction but also the start of Cara Michael's #WIP500. So far, I'm just a little behind but I will catch up. First off is my Nano 11 novel that I haven't finished than time to crack open my Nano 10 that I set aside. Ah, cannot wait to finish!
#MenageMonday
(My entry won Judge's Pet!)
Title: Cheese Curls of Doom
Across the aisle from the cube farm we toiled away in, Leland was busy devouring cheese curls. It was disgusting to watch but I found I couldn’t look away. It was like being a gawker at a car accident. You don’t want to look but can’t stop yourself. Each bright orange curl disappeared into his huge maw, a pie hole of epic proportions, leaving only a faint trail of orange dust on his chin and a thin line of drool.
No wondered why he was still single and living in his mother’s basement.
Turning back to my workstation, I tried to ignore the muted crunching by Leland as I looked at the days left on my calendar. I was eagerly counting down the days until my vacation started and I could get the hell out of dodge for a few weeks. A good long vacation would fuel my soul and keep me from offing my co-workers –although I doubt Leland would be missed.
The crunching stopped, only to be followed by licking and sucking as Leland meticulously removed every bit of artificial cheese powder from his hand. My stomach churned and I quickly crossed through today’s date on the calendar.
----------------------------------------------
#TuesdayTales
Title: An Ending at the Beginning
Celebrations were happening all across the city as people prepared for the new year, full of hope and promise. As fireworks exploded overhead, a gunshot rang out. There was no distinguishing the pop from the gun from the fireworks.
The bright lights of the fireworks shone in the conglomerate of cement surrounding the Space Needle. A spreading pool of blood trickled across, extinguishing the reflections. Steam swirled in the cold night air from the rapidly cooling blood.
A steel-toed boot kicked the body that laid on the ground. “Happy New Year, you dirty old bastard. See you in hell.”
----------------------------------------------
#HumpDayChallenge
Title: While In Rome
Alan laid on the bed in his small room and stared at the cracks travelling up the walls. The service was friendly at the Hotel Cordial, but all the friendliness in the world couldn’t make up for how run-down the unremarkable place was.
His muses were interrupted by the heavy footfalls of boots down the hallway. Another downside of the hotel – lack of any modern soundproofing.
Thankfully, the area of Amsterdam the hotel was located in was relatively conservative so the only noises he heard were people walking back and forth, instead of other more ... vigorous noises.
He sighed.
--------------------------------------------------
#ThursdayThreads
Title: Out of the Shire
“His name was what?” the cop asked as he took notes in his notepad.
“The old man said his name was Milo Scaggins,” the woman repeated
“Bilbo Baggins?”
She shook her head and huffed. “No, Milo Scaggins. Milo. Scaggins.”
The cop scribbled in his notepad again, paused, and read over what he wrote. He tapped his pen against the open page.
“What did he say to you?”
“He asked me if I wanted an apple.”
“An apple?”
“Yes, then he yelled ‘Opa,’ laughed, and ran off the ledge there.
The cop shook his head and flipped his notepad closed. Other officers were walking around the scene, taking pictures and measurements of some of the evidence. A coroner knelt over the body of the dead man.
“Thank you, ma’am. We will contact you if we need any further information.”
The woman nodded, relief evident on her face, and rushed off down the street.
“Hey Sauron, find out anything interesting?” one of the officers asked as he walked over with a smirk on his face.
“Not really, just another crazy old man.”
“Well, I found this on him. What do you think?” The officer held out his hand, revealing a gold ring.
Sauron’s eyes lit up and his lip curled as he plucked the ring from the other man’s hand. “I think this is an important piece of evidence, Theo. I will make sure it gets where it needs to go.”
--------------------------------------------
#FridayPictureShow
(No Title)
The ivies were such simple things, but they brought Alana’s grandmother such pleasure. Alana would often watch her grandmother run her hands up and down the vines, checking for soft spots or damage, nurturing each and every shoot. It often looked like the ivy was embracing her, with the vines curled up around her arms.
This was how Alana wanted to remember her grandmother, now that she was gone, gone to the earth that fed her beloved ivy. Anytime Alana walked into the backyard now, she couldn’t help but see the shade of her grandmother, always tending to her ivy.
---------------------------------------------
Enjoy until next week!
I hope your New Years went well and that the start of the new years is off to a good foot. I didn't do any flash fiction last week, taking a bit of a break from it for the holiday. The start of January not only brought me refreshed for flash fiction but also the start of Cara Michael's #WIP500. So far, I'm just a little behind but I will catch up. First off is my Nano 11 novel that I haven't finished than time to crack open my Nano 10 that I set aside. Ah, cannot wait to finish!
#MenageMonday
(My entry won Judge's Pet!)
Title: Cheese Curls of Doom
Across the aisle from the cube farm we toiled away in, Leland was busy devouring cheese curls. It was disgusting to watch but I found I couldn’t look away. It was like being a gawker at a car accident. You don’t want to look but can’t stop yourself. Each bright orange curl disappeared into his huge maw, a pie hole of epic proportions, leaving only a faint trail of orange dust on his chin and a thin line of drool.
No wondered why he was still single and living in his mother’s basement.
Turning back to my workstation, I tried to ignore the muted crunching by Leland as I looked at the days left on my calendar. I was eagerly counting down the days until my vacation started and I could get the hell out of dodge for a few weeks. A good long vacation would fuel my soul and keep me from offing my co-workers –although I doubt Leland would be missed.
The crunching stopped, only to be followed by licking and sucking as Leland meticulously removed every bit of artificial cheese powder from his hand. My stomach churned and I quickly crossed through today’s date on the calendar.
----------------------------------------------
#TuesdayTales
Title: An Ending at the Beginning
Celebrations were happening all across the city as people prepared for the new year, full of hope and promise. As fireworks exploded overhead, a gunshot rang out. There was no distinguishing the pop from the gun from the fireworks.
The bright lights of the fireworks shone in the conglomerate of cement surrounding the Space Needle. A spreading pool of blood trickled across, extinguishing the reflections. Steam swirled in the cold night air from the rapidly cooling blood.
A steel-toed boot kicked the body that laid on the ground. “Happy New Year, you dirty old bastard. See you in hell.”
----------------------------------------------
#HumpDayChallenge
Title: While In Rome
Alan laid on the bed in his small room and stared at the cracks travelling up the walls. The service was friendly at the Hotel Cordial, but all the friendliness in the world couldn’t make up for how run-down the unremarkable place was.
His muses were interrupted by the heavy footfalls of boots down the hallway. Another downside of the hotel – lack of any modern soundproofing.
Thankfully, the area of Amsterdam the hotel was located in was relatively conservative so the only noises he heard were people walking back and forth, instead of other more ... vigorous noises.
He sighed.
--------------------------------------------------
#ThursdayThreads
Title: Out of the Shire
“His name was what?” the cop asked as he took notes in his notepad.
“The old man said his name was Milo Scaggins,” the woman repeated
“Bilbo Baggins?”
She shook her head and huffed. “No, Milo Scaggins. Milo. Scaggins.”
The cop scribbled in his notepad again, paused, and read over what he wrote. He tapped his pen against the open page.
“What did he say to you?”
“He asked me if I wanted an apple.”
“An apple?”
“Yes, then he yelled ‘Opa,’ laughed, and ran off the ledge there.
The cop shook his head and flipped his notepad closed. Other officers were walking around the scene, taking pictures and measurements of some of the evidence. A coroner knelt over the body of the dead man.
“Thank you, ma’am. We will contact you if we need any further information.”
The woman nodded, relief evident on her face, and rushed off down the street.
“Hey Sauron, find out anything interesting?” one of the officers asked as he walked over with a smirk on his face.
“Not really, just another crazy old man.”
“Well, I found this on him. What do you think?” The officer held out his hand, revealing a gold ring.
Sauron’s eyes lit up and his lip curled as he plucked the ring from the other man’s hand. “I think this is an important piece of evidence, Theo. I will make sure it gets where it needs to go.”
--------------------------------------------
#FridayPictureShow
(No Title)
The ivies were such simple things, but they brought Alana’s grandmother such pleasure. Alana would often watch her grandmother run her hands up and down the vines, checking for soft spots or damage, nurturing each and every shoot. It often looked like the ivy was embracing her, with the vines curled up around her arms.
This was how Alana wanted to remember her grandmother, now that she was gone, gone to the earth that fed her beloved ivy. Anytime Alana walked into the backyard now, she couldn’t help but see the shade of her grandmother, always tending to her ivy.
---------------------------------------------
Enjoy until next week!
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Flash Fiction Week of December 19th
A little late due to the holiday craziness, but here is the flash fiction I did last week. Due to work and the holidays, I wasn't able to do as much as I normally do, but this week I should be back in action. :)
#MotivationMonday
Title: Can I Get a Re-do?
“That’s just great. Now my flashlight doesn’t work!” I muttered as I was encased in darkness. This was just par for course with how my day was going.
It all started out when I woke up an hour late for work. As I scrambled through my morning routine, everything that could go wrong did: the hot water ran out midway through my shower, I got soap in my eye, the sole of my shoe separated from the upper as I slipped them on, and the coffee burned. That really irked me. A good cup of coffee could make any crappy morning better.
On my way work, I got stuck in road construction and the freeway became a parking lot. The minutes ticked by as I became later and later for work. My cell phone rang as I stared at the break lights of the car in front of me. It was my boss. I cringed on how that conversation was going to go.
All I heard was a fizzy static as I put the phone to my ear. When I pulled it away from the and looked at it, the screen of my cell phone was fried, the color and picture all distorted.
“Great,” I said to myself in disgust as traffic finally opened up and I started down the road again.
At work, I was treated to much of the same. My computer gave me the BSOD, my printer jammed, and phone calls that weren’t meant for me kept getting transferred to my desk.
When I left work for the day, I noticed one of the tires of my car was flat. While stuck in that construction zone on the way to work, I picked up a nail. I was just glad that it hadn’t blown my tire while I was still driving.
Finally at home, I breathed a sigh of relief. Surely, now that I was at home, nothing else could happen.
I was wrong.
I was in the middle of making when the power went out. When I poked my head out the window, it was apparent that I wasn’t the only one. I shrugged my shoulders and found my flashlight and some candles ... except I couldn’t find any matches or a lighter.
Chocking it up to how the well the day had gone so far, I shuffled off to my bedroom to try to read by flashlight. It was too early to go to bed, but there wasn’t much else I could do without power. Sure I could get on my laptop, but without power, my wireless router didn’t work either, negating Internet surfing.
I was in the middle of a rather engaging chapter of my book when the wan light of my flashlight became to sputter, waver, then completely stop. Shrouded in darkness, I tossed my book on the floor and stared up at the ceiling.
All in all, I should’ve just stayed in bed and called it a day.
----------------------------------------
#MenageMonday
My entry won "Funniest Story"
Title: Possessed by Reindeer
The wire Christmas decorations groaned as they baked in the warm Florida winter. To the casual observer, they were just that: innocent, wire Christmas decorations. However, looks were deceiving.
“Harath, whose bright idea was this?” the middle reindeer rumbled.
“Sitha,” Harath responded, the thin metal that made up his body shuddering. “He said he had a surefire way for us to return to Earth. When I agreed, we ended up here.”
“How are we supposed to take over the world and strike fear into humanity as lawn décor?!” the third member of the trio chimed in.
“I haven’t figured that out yet, Raz,” Harath replied, thinking that Raz would’ve been better left back on the other side. Yet again, another idea by Sitha who said the more the merrier.
Their mission was to return to Earth and make the humans quiver in fear of the undead creatures who were about to subjugate them. However, there was a caveat. They couldn’t just appear on Earth in their true form, which could not pass over. So they had to find another vessel for their essences to reside, but it could not be currently occupied by a living creature.
Some creatures went for dead bodies but the flesh decayed too quickly. However, Harath had not anticipated this. It certainly made it hard to strike fear into anyone when they looked like cute holiday decorations.
Harath sighed and tried to think of a way to get out of the mess they were in.
----------------------------------------
#TuesdayTales
Title: Nothing Says Lovin’ Like Somethin’ Warm From the Oven
Frank gently stroked his wife’s back as she slept, noticing a bit of cookie dough stuck in her hair. He enjoyed moments like these, when she was free of the stress of life. She looked as young as the day he met her.
She was baking Christmas snickerdoodles when he interrupted her. It wasn’t just the heat of the oven that fogged up the kitchen window that night. Some of the cookies burned and the dough ended up in strange places. It was a fun night though.
Frank thought perhaps he could encourage Debra to bake more often.
---------------------------------------
See you next week! :)
#MotivationMonday
Title: Can I Get a Re-do?
“That’s just great. Now my flashlight doesn’t work!” I muttered as I was encased in darkness. This was just par for course with how my day was going.
It all started out when I woke up an hour late for work. As I scrambled through my morning routine, everything that could go wrong did: the hot water ran out midway through my shower, I got soap in my eye, the sole of my shoe separated from the upper as I slipped them on, and the coffee burned. That really irked me. A good cup of coffee could make any crappy morning better.
On my way work, I got stuck in road construction and the freeway became a parking lot. The minutes ticked by as I became later and later for work. My cell phone rang as I stared at the break lights of the car in front of me. It was my boss. I cringed on how that conversation was going to go.
All I heard was a fizzy static as I put the phone to my ear. When I pulled it away from the and looked at it, the screen of my cell phone was fried, the color and picture all distorted.
“Great,” I said to myself in disgust as traffic finally opened up and I started down the road again.
At work, I was treated to much of the same. My computer gave me the BSOD, my printer jammed, and phone calls that weren’t meant for me kept getting transferred to my desk.
When I left work for the day, I noticed one of the tires of my car was flat. While stuck in that construction zone on the way to work, I picked up a nail. I was just glad that it hadn’t blown my tire while I was still driving.
Finally at home, I breathed a sigh of relief. Surely, now that I was at home, nothing else could happen.
I was wrong.
I was in the middle of making when the power went out. When I poked my head out the window, it was apparent that I wasn’t the only one. I shrugged my shoulders and found my flashlight and some candles ... except I couldn’t find any matches or a lighter.
Chocking it up to how the well the day had gone so far, I shuffled off to my bedroom to try to read by flashlight. It was too early to go to bed, but there wasn’t much else I could do without power. Sure I could get on my laptop, but without power, my wireless router didn’t work either, negating Internet surfing.
I was in the middle of a rather engaging chapter of my book when the wan light of my flashlight became to sputter, waver, then completely stop. Shrouded in darkness, I tossed my book on the floor and stared up at the ceiling.
All in all, I should’ve just stayed in bed and called it a day.
----------------------------------------
#MenageMonday
My entry won "Funniest Story"
Title: Possessed by Reindeer
The wire Christmas decorations groaned as they baked in the warm Florida winter. To the casual observer, they were just that: innocent, wire Christmas decorations. However, looks were deceiving.
“Harath, whose bright idea was this?” the middle reindeer rumbled.
“Sitha,” Harath responded, the thin metal that made up his body shuddering. “He said he had a surefire way for us to return to Earth. When I agreed, we ended up here.”
“How are we supposed to take over the world and strike fear into humanity as lawn décor?!” the third member of the trio chimed in.
“I haven’t figured that out yet, Raz,” Harath replied, thinking that Raz would’ve been better left back on the other side. Yet again, another idea by Sitha who said the more the merrier.
Their mission was to return to Earth and make the humans quiver in fear of the undead creatures who were about to subjugate them. However, there was a caveat. They couldn’t just appear on Earth in their true form, which could not pass over. So they had to find another vessel for their essences to reside, but it could not be currently occupied by a living creature.
Some creatures went for dead bodies but the flesh decayed too quickly. However, Harath had not anticipated this. It certainly made it hard to strike fear into anyone when they looked like cute holiday decorations.
Harath sighed and tried to think of a way to get out of the mess they were in.
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#TuesdayTales
Title: Nothing Says Lovin’ Like Somethin’ Warm From the Oven
Frank gently stroked his wife’s back as she slept, noticing a bit of cookie dough stuck in her hair. He enjoyed moments like these, when she was free of the stress of life. She looked as young as the day he met her.
She was baking Christmas snickerdoodles when he interrupted her. It wasn’t just the heat of the oven that fogged up the kitchen window that night. Some of the cookies burned and the dough ended up in strange places. It was a fun night though.
Frank thought perhaps he could encourage Debra to bake more often.
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See you next week! :)
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Flash Fiction Week of December 12th
Here's the flash fiction that I wrote this week. :) The only one I missed out on was the #FridayPictureShow hosted by @JenD_Author. Work was so crazy yesterday that I didn't have a chance to get my prompt in. Another week.
#MenageMonday
#TuesdayTales
#5MinuteFiction
Title: The Difference A Year Makes
It was a new year. A new day. A new chance.
#HumpDayChallenge
#ThursThreads (brand new challenge started by @SiobhanMuir at http://siobhanmuir.blogspot.com/)
Title: The End Is Only The Beginning
#MenageMonday
Title: A Rose By Any Other Name
It was the Johnson City Transform-Your-Ride event. People came out far and wide with their cars, trucks, and crossovers modified to look like anything they could imagine and build and still operate as a vehicle.
In a huge parking lot, the vehicles were lined up like ducks in a row with groups of people surrounding each one. Interwoven the groups were off-duty cops who certified each entry was street legal.
Two of the most popular entries was a pink Jeep, outfitted to look like a pig, and a SUV made into a were-moose. While the pig was just painted and had some steel additions, the owner of the were-moose went all out.
The man stood proudly to the side of his were-wonder, describing to fans all the work he put into it, including the shag carpeting on the roof and sides of the car, horns made from ironwork, wrapped in felt, and the teeth wired to the grill of the SUV out of Styrofoam and lacquer.
Needless to say, the were-moose won. He took a bite out of the competition.
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#TuesdayTales
Title: Home Is Where the Heart Is
They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, except Hell isn’t some abstract place full of fire and brimstone. It’s here in Perdition, in this wretched town, full of wretched people.
When I arrived, I started out with a purpose to do great things, but ended up getting stuck and unable to leave. This town sucks the life out of you and leaves nothing but a vacant shell. You can see it in the eyes of those stuck here with me, as they go through the motions of living.
Is this really living or is this damnation?
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#5MinuteFiction
Title: The Difference A Year Makes
It was a new year. A new day. A new chance.
Would I waste it as I have years before?
It seemed as each year went by, I could only see the missed opportunities and missed chances. I never looked forward, only backward.
If I had only took that one job … if I only said yes to that date … if I had only turned left instead of right.
The list went on and on, always second guessing myself.
My psychologist said it was a lack of confidence. I questioned it, wondering if going to see him was the right choice.
Apparently I just proved his point.
This year was going to be different. The past was in the past. I couldn’t change what has already happened; I could only change what could happen.
This year was going to be different. I was tired of living in the shadow of my past, both good and bad.
This year was going to be different, and I was starting today.
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Title: The Wind of Change
“You can’t be serious about publishing this journal,” Dr. Spiner challenged the research scientist.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“You have molecules listed in the wrong categories!” the doctor shouted, tossing down the rough draft of the publication on the table. “The periodic table of elements isn’t a guesstimate, you idiot!”
Henry, the belittled research assistant, picked up his paper with a snort. “I know it’s not, Dr. Spiner, but my research is an important commodity to science. It reveals new information that will completely change how the world views the PTOE, which you would’ve known if you actually read it.”
--------------------------
Title: The End Is Only The Beginning
Opening my eyes, something felt off, something nagged at the back of my mind … a flash of light, of metal. I was in my room, but not. I felt awake, but not. It was very strange. I got up and moved around, everything the same but somehow different.
The moment I stepped out of my bedroom, reality fell away. Before me was a vast hall, bright and luminous, full of all different kinds of people. A petite, red-headed woman walked toward me with a gentle smile.
“Welcome to the Otherside, Morgan.” she said.
“How do you know me?” I asked. “And who are you? What’s the Otherside?
“I’m Elleria. I’m here to show you around.”
“And here is?”
“The Otherside.”
“What?”
“The Otherside,” she repeated, patiently. “You died last night in a car accident. Now, you’re an angel.”
I sputtered, completely confused as I looked around at all the other people in the hall moving around with purpose.
“Are all these others … ?”
She nodded. “Yes. Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings.”
“Wings?” I looked behind me and didn’t see anything sprouting from my back.
“Not in the literal sense, Morgan. Your wings are your transportation when you are earthbound. It could be a car, a bike, anything. Come, it’s time to show you around.”
Utterly lost, I followed Elleria into the Otherside.
---------------------------------------------
Till next week!
My New Year's Resolution: #WIP500
Cara Michaels, author of Gaea's Chosen: The Mayday Directive, came up with a great idea, in the spirit of Nanowrimo, to keep us all writing. It's called WIP500. Basically, you just write 500 words a day. That's it. If you do more, great, but get that 500. After a year, you'd be amazed at what you can get done. On Cara's website, she outlines how you can participate. I think this is an absolutely BRILLIANT idea and I can't wait to start.
You can find information about it here: WIP500 and can be followed on Twitter with the following tag: #WIP500, as well as any of the other links I gave to Cara's site (and check out her book too!).
Hope to see you there starting January 1st.
You can find information about it here: WIP500 and can be followed on Twitter with the following tag: #WIP500, as well as any of the other links I gave to Cara's site (and check out her book too!).
Hope to see you there starting January 1st.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Brushes the Dust Off
So ... I think I promised not to be so absent from posting and here it's been nearly a month. Shame on me. Work has been busy and just life in general. Now that Nano is over, it's time for Christmas which has been keeping me busy.
This year I'm making a lot of homemade gifts, namely the edible variety. I've already done one batch of cookies, going to do a lot more stuff (chocolate dipped goodies, barks, maybe some spiced nuts). It's going to be a tasty Christmas.
When not in the kitchen, I've been trying to get back on the flash fiction bandwagon. Here are my entries for the #MenageMonday, #TuesdayTales, and #5MinuteFiction. The results of #MenageMonday haven't been released yet, but I'm a finalist on the #5MinuteFiction. #TuesdayTales results will be released tomorrow.
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#5MinuteFiction
Title: Space Flight Can Be Dangerous for Your Health
He was tall, dark, and handsome, and incredibly ugly … such an attractive man with such a horrible personality. Sure, he was pleasant to look at but as soon as he opened his mouth, it was downhill from there. It would’ve been perfect if he was the strong, silent type. However, he was of the loud, boorish variety.
If I didn’t have to put up with him for my job, I would’ve shoved him out of the airlock one cycle ago. Seriously. Even now I was starting to wonder if the credits I earned for my time were worth this kind of torture. Maybe I could inquire for hazard pay. Dealing with him was truly a life-threatening experience.
“Where’s my cargo?” he blared through the intercom, not even bothering to ask if I was busy.
I rolled my eyes and pressed the comlink. “All cargo is kept in the suspensor bay by the main airlock, Mr. Schrock.”
“I need it now.”
“Access to the suspensor bay is not permitted during the flight.”
“Well, stop.”
I wanted to bang my head against my control board. “I cannot stop the ship mid-jump, Mr. Schrock. Our ETA at your destination is less than four hours. You will be able to retrieve whatever you need at that time.”
“Unacceptable.”
I gritted my teeth and tried to remember why I was doing this. It was hard to remember when faced with this kind of passenger. Would it really be noticed if Mr. Schrock never made it to his destination? Would anyone really miss him?
A plan began to develop in my mind …
This year I'm making a lot of homemade gifts, namely the edible variety. I've already done one batch of cookies, going to do a lot more stuff (chocolate dipped goodies, barks, maybe some spiced nuts). It's going to be a tasty Christmas.
When not in the kitchen, I've been trying to get back on the flash fiction bandwagon. Here are my entries for the #MenageMonday, #TuesdayTales, and #5MinuteFiction. The results of #MenageMonday haven't been released yet, but I'm a finalist on the #5MinuteFiction. #TuesdayTales results will be released tomorrow.
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#MenageMonday
Title: Christmas Sharing
Roger stood at the janitor’s desk and regaled the staff with his oh-so-exciting story about his weekend. He came down every morning and tried to flirt with Sharon. She was too nice to tell him to go away, even if his halitosis made the entire room smell. Her numerous mentions of a boyfriend also did not dissuade the clueless Casanova. Cleary, the man could not tell that no one wanted to hear his mostly made-up stories.
Roger was in the middle of a torrid story about how he found fuzzy dice that he swore were owned by Christopher Walken. At an alleged Christmas party he was at, Roger was rooting through the host’s sock drawer and found a Christmas stocking with “CW” embroidered on it.
The whole room collectively rolled their eyes, as if saying “Thanks for sharing!” while making a note to lock their bedroom doors if he was ever in their homes.
Roger continued, nonplussed. Deep in the toe of the stocking were old fuzzy dice. He quickly snatched the dice and left the party.
He dug into his pocket and plopped the dice down on the counter. “I thought you might like them, Sharon.”
She shuddered.
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#TuesdayTales
Title: Keeping It Within the Family: Travelling the Universe Through Temporal Mechanics
Family vacations are a tried and true institution, even more so for my family. No ordinary visits to the Ceres Cluster. No, we chose to be different, by travelling through time.
Our kids got to witness history as it happened, instead of in a museum. It was a pretty awesome experience, provided that we didn’t run into family members or ourselves from the past.
We made the mistake once. After a Sassinak-like interaction with my great-great-great grandmother, whom I closely resembled, we learned our lesson.
My husband will never live down the day that he mistook her for me.
Title: Christmas Sharing
Roger stood at the janitor’s desk and regaled the staff with his oh-so-exciting story about his weekend. He came down every morning and tried to flirt with Sharon. She was too nice to tell him to go away, even if his halitosis made the entire room smell. Her numerous mentions of a boyfriend also did not dissuade the clueless Casanova. Cleary, the man could not tell that no one wanted to hear his mostly made-up stories.
Roger was in the middle of a torrid story about how he found fuzzy dice that he swore were owned by Christopher Walken. At an alleged Christmas party he was at, Roger was rooting through the host’s sock drawer and found a Christmas stocking with “CW” embroidered on it.
The whole room collectively rolled their eyes, as if saying “Thanks for sharing!” while making a note to lock their bedroom doors if he was ever in their homes.
Roger continued, nonplussed. Deep in the toe of the stocking were old fuzzy dice. He quickly snatched the dice and left the party.
He dug into his pocket and plopped the dice down on the counter. “I thought you might like them, Sharon.”
She shuddered.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
#TuesdayTales
Title: Keeping It Within the Family: Travelling the Universe Through Temporal Mechanics
Family vacations are a tried and true institution, even more so for my family. No ordinary visits to the Ceres Cluster. No, we chose to be different, by travelling through time.
Our kids got to witness history as it happened, instead of in a museum. It was a pretty awesome experience, provided that we didn’t run into family members or ourselves from the past.
We made the mistake once. After a Sassinak-like interaction with my great-great-great grandmother, whom I closely resembled, we learned our lesson.
My husband will never live down the day that he mistook her for me.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
#5MinuteFiction
Title: Space Flight Can Be Dangerous for Your Health
He was tall, dark, and handsome, and incredibly ugly … such an attractive man with such a horrible personality. Sure, he was pleasant to look at but as soon as he opened his mouth, it was downhill from there. It would’ve been perfect if he was the strong, silent type. However, he was of the loud, boorish variety.
If I didn’t have to put up with him for my job, I would’ve shoved him out of the airlock one cycle ago. Seriously. Even now I was starting to wonder if the credits I earned for my time were worth this kind of torture. Maybe I could inquire for hazard pay. Dealing with him was truly a life-threatening experience.
“Where’s my cargo?” he blared through the intercom, not even bothering to ask if I was busy.
I rolled my eyes and pressed the comlink. “All cargo is kept in the suspensor bay by the main airlock, Mr. Schrock.”
“I need it now.”
“Access to the suspensor bay is not permitted during the flight.”
“Well, stop.”
I wanted to bang my head against my control board. “I cannot stop the ship mid-jump, Mr. Schrock. Our ETA at your destination is less than four hours. You will be able to retrieve whatever you need at that time.”
“Unacceptable.”
I gritted my teeth and tried to remember why I was doing this. It was hard to remember when faced with this kind of passenger. Would it really be noticed if Mr. Schrock never made it to his destination? Would anyone really miss him?
A plan began to develop in my mind …
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