Finish That Thought 3-5

Posted in Uncategorized on August 4, 2015 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://alissaleonard.blogspot.com/2015/08/finish-that-thought-3-5.html

He watched with barely disguised contempt as she took the first dose of poison. They were all going to do it, each of them. But he would hold out the longest. Not because of hope. Because he was stubborn. He’d decide when it was his turn to die. If the rest of the sheep wanted to get it out of the way, good riddance.

Molly’s death was painful, as they all knew it would be. She embarrassed herself with her crying and wailing and the final betrayal of her body’s decency. He wouldn’t let the rest of them see him like that. Not him.

Sam went next, because Sam always went second. He never did anything scary or hard first, but that just made him a coward. He tried to take an extra-large dose, hoping it would kill him quicker, but the system wouldn’t let him. His death was more pathetic than Molly’s, and he cried the entire time.

Then Tammy. Then Allison. Then Kyle. Kyle was more stoic than the rest, but everyone knew he would be. He’d once dropped a sledgehammer on his toe and only muttered curses under his breath. He didn’t even cry when they cut the darned thing off.

And then at last there was one. He looked at his dead colleagues? Comrades? Companions? Not friends – he held them too far in contempt. Collateral damage. That was the better term. He looked at his collateral damage and spat. First on Molly. Then Tammy, just to anger Sam in the afterlife, if there was one. Kyle he kicked until his body made a sound like a scream. Allison he ignored, like he always had.

Then he took his poison and died too. There was no record of how he died. Just the way he wanted it.

VisDare 106

Posted in Uncategorized on August 4, 2015 by drmagoo

Prompt: https://anonymouslegacy1.wordpress.com/2015/07/28/visdare-106-attentive/

“You hear about Bennie?” Lennie knew that Jennie and Rennie had heard about Bennie. Everyone’d heard about Bennie. But what else was there to say? Traffic was slow.

“Ya tink he’ll talk?” Rennie was a ‘fraidy cat. Even Jennie knew that, but she was sweet on him, and Lennie would do anything for his little sis.

“Of course he’ll talk. But what can he say? He only handled the cash, not the product. People coulda been buying cilantro for all he knew.”

“He could rat me out, Lennie. He knows I did somethin’. Don’t think I could handle life in the pound.”

“You’ll handle life in the pound, sis, just like Paw did and just like I did.” Lennie smacked Jennie and Rennie in the heads. Not hard. Just enough. “And just like Bennie will. We gotta protect Mawmaw.”

They’d told Mawmaw you couldn’t train a cat. They was wrong.

Dark Fairy Queen Midsummer Night’s Dream

Posted in Uncategorized on July 29, 2015 by drmagoo

Evidence of Things Not Seen

category: Myths

————————————–

“It won’t work, you know.” Barry leaned back against the tree and grinned. Not for the first time, Lisa cursed the fates which decreed that they should share genetic material. In the late-evening twilight, his supercilious face was ripe for punching, although she refrained. He wasn’t going to ruin her fun, not on this night.

What are you talking about, she didn’t say, because he continued on without her. She didn’t really need to be there for most of their conversations.

“And it’s the equinox that the myths talk about, not the solstice. Though an egg won’t stand on its end, no matter what day it is.” His fingers, always busy, created grooves in the dirt, exposing the thick lines of a tree root. If he sat there long enough, he’d excavate the whole thing, just because he could.

Lisa’s hands were busy, too, although not aimlessly. It was hard to find all of the leaves she needed this time of year, especially since they had to be willingly shed, but the trees knew their roles, and even the stubborn hawthorn did its part.

When the leaves were arranged just so, she opened her bag and removed the egg. It thrummed in her hands, heavy for its size, and was warm to the touch. She felt the passage of a small rock as it whizzed by her ear, and she turned back to Barry, sticking her tongue out at him. The next one would hit her in the back of the head, she knew, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of acting afraid.

Besides, holding the egg, she feared nothing.

As she’d predicted, the next pebbled ricocheted off her head. Then another off her neck. He’d keep doing it as long as she let him. Lisa barely cared. Barry thought he was so much smarter than everyone else, but he couldn’t even feel the presence of divinity not ten feet from where he sat.

Though slumbering, the dragonling was ready to hatch as soon as Lisa said the words. Lisa knew that if she could see inside the egg, She would be only an inch in diameter, curled at the bottom of Her oblong cradle, the last sign that it was time. Lisa placed the egg on the ground and smiled as Barry gasped in surprise as it balanced on its point. He crawled closer, trying to figure out what the trick was, just as a crack appeared at the tip. Lisa smiled. The dragonling would one day rule the world, but She was going to emerge hungry, and Barry would sustain her for days.

Flash! Friday, volume 3, week 32

Posted in Uncategorized on July 17, 2015 by drmagoo

“Those who are doomed”
@drmagoo
225 words
Story Elements: Theme, Setting

This was his dream.

The dead man approached the podium and looked out over the empty auditorium. He was set to speak promptly at 13 o’clock, and the nobody in the seats in front of him failed to fidget with anticipation. At the appropriate time, a light flashed, and it all began again.

This was her dream.

The dead child stood at the top of the slide and surveyed Creation. Gleaming with rust in the smog, her path curved and twisted out of sight. Insubstantial as hope, the rust flaked away until Creation gave out. As she fell, a light flashed. And it all began again.

This was his job.

In front of him was a dial. There were no markings on it, and it felt awkward in his hand. When the light flashed, he turned it the correct amount in the correct direction. Sometimes it turned easily, sometimes not. Sometimes, he turned it the wrong way, and then he was killed. The next morning, a light flashed, and it all began again.

This was her home.

At the end of the day, she stood in the appropriate spot to be lowered into her sphere. Sometimes she knew which way was down. Today she had killed a man sitting at a dial. Tomorrow, no one would remember. The light flashed, and it all began again.

Mid-week Blues Buster, Year 3 week 2

Posted in Uncategorized on June 11, 2015 by drmagoo

Prompt: https://thetsuruokafiles.wordpress.com/2015/06/09/mid-week-blues-buster-week-3-02/

I didn’t cry when he finished. I wanted to – it hurt so very much – but the tears just wouldn’t come. He staggered away, pulling up his pants and laughing, not once looking back. I laid there, face pressed into the rough bark and slimy moss, legs splayed obscenely to reveal tearing and blood, but he wasn’t afraid of what would happen if someone found me. A man like him wasn’t afraid of anything.

For a while, I thought about staying where I was. Eventually, the flesh would rot from my bones, and I wouldn’t be an emblem of meaninglessness. I could have died for any number of reasons, laying here against the oak, and all would be washed away. But I was young – the blood between my legs was the first that had been there – and the will to exist is strong.

Then I thought of running. Somewhere there had to be a place where I would be safe. I had seen such a small part of the world. But I didn’t know where I was, much less where anything else was. What would happen to me in a new town? A young girl, dirty and hungry, with a torn dress and no trade?

Then I thought of hiding. There were animals in the forest. And plants. I knew the penalty for poaching on this land was death, but the forest was large, and I wouldn’t need much to live. But I’d never be able to start a fire – the smoke would give me away, and the winters would be cold.

Then I thought of killing him. I’d killed lots of bugs. And some mice which had broken into our pantry. And a cat once, when it had a broken leg and couldn’t hunt and kept mewling the baby awake.

As I imagined my hands thrusting a sword into him, drawing more blood from his flesh than he could have dreamt of spilling from me, I realized I’d gotten up and begun moving back towards the village. He’d see me again later that day, but I wouldn’t be the same girl he’d left in the forest.

Thursday Threads, Year 3, week 2

Posted in Uncategorized on June 11, 2015 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://www.siobhanmuir.com/siobhans-blog/thursthreads-tying-tales-together-week-171

I heard the thump-thump-thump of her feet behind me and cursed under my breath. All week long, she’s mesmerized by singing ducks, and now that I needed a half-hour to get something done, she wanders away. “Daddy, what are you doing?”

“Just fixing the bed, sweetie.” I didn’t want her to see this. Though she probably – hopefully – wouldn’t understand what I was doing, she might repeat it to her grandma. That’d be awkward.

“Were you jumping on the bed? Mommy tells me that if I jump on the bed, I’ll break it.”

“Uhhh, something like that, honey.” Well, not really. The bed was actually fine.

“Will mommy yell at you?” If I do this right, she’ll yell – though not really *at* me.

“No, sweetie. Mommy asked me to fix this. She’ll be happy.”

“Okay.” Her little arm dashed out. “What’s this, daddy?” Before I could react, she screamed.

“My hand is stuck! Daddy! Daddy! Get it out!”

“I will, Janie. Hold on a second while Daddy gets the key. I know that hurts.” I released her little arm from the handcuffs and rubbed the skin to get rid of red marks. “Is that better?”

“Yes.” She was still teary, but she’d be fine. “I think I’m gonna go watch more duckies.”

“You do that, honey. I love you.”

When she was gone, I checked the chains I’d installed on the bed. They were in good and tight. And, boy, was mommy gonna get it tonight for sticking me with this.

Flash Mob Writes 1 – 07

Posted in Uncategorized on April 10, 2015 by drmagoo

Prompt: https://flashmobwrites.wordpress.com/2015/04/10/flashmobwrites-1×07/

I woke up covered in grime, a mixture of sweat and whatever had kicked me out of the sewer last night. My stomach quailed at the smell, but I knew I didn’t have anything left to come up. To avoid adding more bile to the already revolting taste in my mouth, I pulled myself up and staggered to the bathroom.

I waited until the shower got to lukewarm and then stepped under the spray, not wanting to even touch my clothes until they at least got rinsed off. The only soap was pink and fruity – Angie’s? Kelly’s? God. I didn’t even know whose house I was at. But it got me clean, and the towel I grabbed from the closet got me dry.

I didn’t have any clothes to put on that didn’t revolt me, but if I didn’t want to venture out in just a towel, I was going to have to find something to put on. I hoped I was at Kelly’s – she was about my height, and I could probably steal some sweats or something to keep me from getting arrested on the way home. Angie was too damned petite. A plus for bedroom gymnastics, a minus for swapping clothes after…

After. I shuddered, and pushed open the door to the bedroom. After. Fuck. If I could avoid remembering that this was now a world that was After What Happened, I’d be a much happier man.

From the pictures on the mirror, I realized I was at Angie’s, but I needed clothes, so I went pawing through her dresser anyway, hoping for some dumbass luck.

And I found some. I didn’t really want to think about which ex- or current boyfriend had left this stuff, but there it was, crammed into the back of the bottom drawer. Clean and dressed, I realized I could possibly pass for a human now.

After.

My stomach rumbled again, but this time, it wanted me to put something in it. Angie was a hell of a cook, so she’d probably have something laying around that was better than the ketchup bottle I had at home. Her fridge was indeed full, and I stared blankly at the array of foods for a while. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to have access to that much food, and never wonder if you’d have to do something you didn’t want to to get your next meal. But when I caught sight of the roast on the bottom shelf, my stasis broke.

Angie had trussed the roast up, filling the center with some sort of herbs and butter, but she hadn’t cooked it yet, something I didn’t realize until after I’d already torn some chunks out of the bloody flesh, chewing through the ropes she’d used to tie the thing together and spitting the twine out so I could get to more meat. As the meat worked its way down my esophagus, I thought again of the night before and After.

And smiled.

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