“So I killed him. So what, he was dying anyway.” He had diabetes. “Yeah well that’s a disease isn’t it?” She tapped tiny embers into the night, the shiny things on her fingers glinting in the darkness. “You know, on average at least one person dies on every cruise? There are a lot of sad people out there, looking for a painless exit.” Or just a lot of cold hearted murderers. “Anyway, what do you care.” She flicked her hair like she did just before a point was about to made, and stretched her arms across the rails. “All that is in the past, now we can ride on the oceans forever on the Sea Princess.” She laughed into her cigarette, drawing on it one more time before flicking the dying butt over the rail. She bent down to pick up her shoes. Black water churned beneath them. Let’s go back in, it’s freezing out here. A soft nudge and she tipped over. “Oh shit. Help me up!” She fell laughing onto the smooth deck. I pulled her up and brought her close, inhaling that familiar scent of wine and nicotine, barely masking the headache inducing perfume. She looked up at me, reaching her hands up towards the back of my neck. I gave her a smile and hoisted her over the rail. Farewell my love. I won’t miss you.
Sometimes our writing is inspired by the least expected things, isn’t it?
I hear you creature. Thudding around up there, clawing at dark crevices in your desperate attempts to flee. Why do you run now, when your invasion was a success? Is it because your plunder is now your prison. Although your prison is in fact your refuge. From me. Because I don’t appreciate my home being invaded, my possessions defiled, my comfort ruffled. Your arrival may have been at your choice, however your departure is very much at mine. And don’t think that you can leave before I have your head for a crumb of cheese.
Here’s my contribution to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, kindly hosted by Priceless Joy.
Gregor stood unblinking against the endless expanse of red, scanning the horizon for signs of life. Crossing the great desert was suicide, they’d known that when they had set off, but they were dead anyway and better it be on their own terms. Amali absently rubbed her tiny belly as she stood beside him.
Humanity’s solution to an overpopulated, drowning, earth was to dump those displaced by rising oceans on Mars. They helped the chances of survival by establishing hundreds of tiny colonies, scattered over an unforgiving landscape. However the architects of this new world had never planned on their experiment lasting this long, and four generations later most of the colonies had been wiped out by hunger, disease, and our innate inability at getting along.
Survival was dependent on scarce resources, and maintaining a strict quota on births was the only way ensure the survival of the colony.
Those who didn’t agree had no choice but to find themselves a new home, or die trying.
It’s been a while, but I’ve finally managed to get a story in on time for Monday’s Finish the Story. And what a prompt – there’ve been some very interesting interpretations on what this actually is!
Finish the story starts with “I see absolutely everything”.
Here’s my attempt:
*a conversation between the Ancient All Powerful Being and his 4 year old son.
“I see absolutely everything” boomed the all pervading voice of the Ancient Seer.
“Can you see Santa?”
“Of course I see Santa, I see all.”
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s ah.. feeding his reindeer.”
“What’s a reindeer?”
“It’s a large fluffy beast. With antlers. They like snow, and carrots.”
“You mean like Sven from Frozen?”
“Yes, just like Sven.”
“What if you’re asleep? Don’t you have to close your eyes?”
“Son..” the All Powerful Being turned to the boy. “All Powerful Beings do not sleep. Plus, I have no eyelids” he added, scratching the little boy’s head.
“But what if its night time and dark and there’s no ‘lectricity’?”
The All Seeing Being smiled. “Then I will know. Because to see all is to know all. You will understand that one day when you become the All Powerful Seer.”
“What’s an eye lid?”
A scream of parental angst rang out through the universe.
Its been a long while, but I’ve finally made back it to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers in time for the week’s story.. Thanks Priceless Joy for providing another great prompt 🙂
Upon reflection, using the balloon seller’s bike probably wasn’t the most practical choice of getaway vehicle, but it was there and I was in a hurry. Anyway, hiding in plain sight is meant to be more effective then stealth isn’t it?
I had to elbow past gawking toddlers and a few nosey grannies, and may have toppled an ice-cream or two, but those were minor misdemeanours, a small price for the greater good.
I pedalled as fast as my rhinestone encrusted stilettos would permit, the deflated meringue of a dress dragging sadly behind. Should have torn that silly train off when I had the chance.
Most people didn’t quite register what they were seeing – maybe they thought that I was part of the entertainment. The Crazy Bride, a modern day rendition of the Bearded Lady, perhaps. Anyway, who cares what they thought – the important thing was that I was NOT getting married today.
This is my contribution to this week’s Monday’s Finish the Story, brought to us by Barbara Beacham. Thanks Barbara for another great prompt!
Finish the story starts with: “The team employed the use of Nightshade to get the information they wanted from their captive.”
Their captive sat staring at the floor with unseeing eyes. Robbie turned to his audience. “See boys? This is how we do business in the Nightshade Clan. Total submission, and without a drop of blood being spilt.”
He slowly circled his prize, careful to let the echo of each step beat into the room before following with the next. “This is why we are the most evolved of the Clans. Because we have moved beyond the need for baseless violence.” He waited for the murmurs of approval to die out before continuing.
“The Roses, they like to stab with their thorns. And the Iris’s..” He rubbed the scar which marred length of his arm. “The Irises, now they like to work slowly.”
He stopped in front of the chair and grabbed a handful of hair, snapping the head back to stare into a pair of cloudy white eyes. “And we will afford them the same courtesy.”
This is my contribution to this week’s Monday’s Finish the Story, brought to us by Barbara Beacham. Finish the story begins with : “He thought he found the perfect hiding spot.” He thought he found the perfect hiding spot from which to plot his escape plan. He had overhead the slaves discussing V.E.T today. Pfft. Do they really think that cats can’t spell? He knew that simply hiding in the lair wouldn’t work, because the slaves, despite appearances were smart enough to find him. Plus there was also the issue of food, so he couldn’t just hide in here forever. He extracted a set of claws and tested them against the leather lounge. Not bad. But over the years, the slaves seemed to have become impervious to threats and actual demonstrations of violence. More was needed. But what? He flicked his tail back and forth, running through the scenarios, until it came to him. Of course. He jumped onto the kitchen benchtop and dragged the car keys into his mouth, careful not to bite into the stupid squeaky keyring. A few minutes later, the deed was done. The keys buried deep within the litterbox, never to be found. With a satisfied swish of his tail, he pushed open the nearest bedroom door and hopped back into bed.
This is my cat Brutus, demonstrating his version of the Cat in Bag. He’s 16 now, so (hopefully) his evil plan hatching days are behind him 🙂
This is my contribution to Monday’s Finish the Story – brought to us by Barbara Beacham.
Finish the story starts with: “The petroglyphs told the story of an unusual event.”
It told of the day that our world died. And it told us of a time before the event which plunged our world into darkness. They say these carvings were made by those who had seen the old world. A world where we could create daylight with the touch of a finger, and fly around the world inside the belly of a giant bird. A world where there was more food than we could ever consume. And water. There were oceans and rivers in this world, so much water that you could immerse yourself in it.
Then the rock fell from the sky, and our world was changed forever.
But this is just a story, a child’s tale. Some say that there was no old world, and that the carvings were made to give us something to dream about.
Here’s my contribution to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, brought to us by Priceless Joy.
Albatross Island wasn’t known for its warm inviting waters or white sandy beaches. The tiny speck of rock stuck out of a remote, wind swept corner of the North Atlantic, unknown to most of the world. We called it Fools Island, after the fools who thought to live on it once, and the fools think to visit it now.
They come to chase the big waves. 100 foot giants, pushed off the continental plates beneath the island.
This year like every other, they descended upon the island during storm season when the biggest waves formed. Most of them rode in on boats and jetskis, but the diehards stayed in the old abandoned fort on the main part of the island.
Why do we call it Fools Island? Because Albatross Island sits inside the crater of a dormant volcano, and everyone failed to notice the rumbling of the earth beneath. Needless to say, this year the surfers got a lot more than they bargained for in their search for adventure.
Here’s my contribution to this week’s FFfAW prompt, brought to us by Priceless Joy.
Chateau Vieux Monde stood at the top of the hill, catching the first rays of the sun as it rose over the valley.
The Allen’s watched the sunrise before walking up the main steps. They had waited years for this moment, so the few extra minutes meant nothing. Conventional medicine had brought David no relief, and they had sold everything they owned to travel to this remote little corner of France based on nothing more than a rumour.
And now here they were- pressed into an oppressive little room deep beneath the Chateau, rank with the musty smells of earth and rot.
Monsieur Le Monde stood by a large black barrel and half filled a small tasting glass with a rich golden liquid. “Who first?”
David took the glass and gave it to his wife. She took a sip.
“Did it work?”
Monsieur Le Monde pressed a small knife into her hand.
“See for yourself Madame. Test your immortality.”