#ThursThreads week 367

Posted in Uncategorized on June 20, 2019 by drmagoo

In all the years since creatures first evolved in the universe, two things had never happened in Hell. It had never stopped snowing (contrary to popular belief) and the Apocalypse Bell had never rung. The Devil had grown tired of waiting for it to ring and started a contest among the damned – anyone who could guess, to the millisecond, what time the bell *would* eventually ring would get reincarnated back on the planet of their choosing. Sure, there was a risk, but what the Home, He figured. Life is full of risks. So is death.

Thus, it was assured that when the bell did ring, no one would really be prepared.

Everyone jumped at the sound, for it pierced even the 20-foot snowdrifts that most beings had to wade through – naked – as they went about their tortures. The Devil jumped most of all, first in shock, then in glee.

“It’s time! It’s finally time!” He hadn’t been out of Hell in so long that he felt like a child on Christmas morning (on the one world that still celebrated such foolishness). “Yippie!” He said, much to the amusement of the demons and the damned. “Yahoo!”

Turning, He ran for the portal to the Universe and, after fumbling with the lock, burst through to see…utter devastation. And God, smiling at what She had wrought.

“Did you leave anything? For me?” the Devil asked, aghast at the nothingness he saw.

“Nope.” God shrugged. She could be the biggest dick when she wanted


Menage Monday, week 2×38

Posted in Uncategorized on June 17, 2019 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://www.caramichaels.com/defiantlyliterate/2019/06/17/menagemonday-challenge-week-2×38/

We knew he was outside. His manifesto told anyone who wanted to know where he’d attack, and when. No authorities cared about this kind of thing anymore – what’s the death of a few more dozen “deviants” when the Eastern seaboard was under water and the twelfth Cat-5 hurricane of the season was barreling through the Gulf?

But he didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

Ironically, it was their scientists who provided us with a roadmap. They’d been trying to convert us since time immemorial, and their latest efforts involved breathing in some gas (“Straight, No Chaser” was our attempt at gallows humor) that was supposed to purge us of what they thought was wrong. It did nothing, of course – who we were was hardwired into us – but the boundary between failure and discovery is a fragile thing.

We couldn’t change who we were, but we could amplify a part of us that typically lay dormant. Every person has the potential to revert to an animalistic state – those videos of people on PCP aren’t deep fakes. We wanted that, but with the ability to focus, to work as a team. That’s what we could do when we Went Under.

The club that night was filled with the same people as always, but we weren’t in our party clothes. Dressed head-to-toe in body armor, we waited. And at the appointed time, the gas was released. We breathed in the magenta fumes and Went Under. The battle had begun anew.

#Menage Monday, week 2×36

Posted in Uncategorized on June 3, 2019 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://www.caramichaels.com/defiantlyliterate/2019/06/03/menagemonday-challenge-week-2×36/

Shivering despite my thick hide in the cold southern winds, I stood straight-backed before the Queen and parted the fur on my chest. There, hidden from all but the most magical of sight was the keyhole she’d been searching for. I felt a tingle as the key entered, and then felt my consciousness shunted aside as the Other inside me took over.

“Who awakens me?” The Other’s voice thundered in my head, but the Queen had to lean in to hear. “Who dares rouse the great and terrible…”

“Oh, shut up. You’re not a genie in a bottle, Reginald. And stop whispering.”

“I am not whispering, infernal woman! I was hidden here, inside this simulacrum of a bear, without anything that you’d call a mouth. A thousand years, I have suffered…”

“A thousand, my ass. You’ve only been in there five.”

“Well, it feels longer when you’re disembodied.”

“Still, you led me on a devilish little chase. The King thought he’d keep you hidden from me, but he’s always been a fool.”

“The King is a wise and strong master.”

“The King is a vainglorious whorer who cares more for wine than for power.” The Queen turned the key a second time. “Now I have come to free you so that you will pass on the authority to rule Arbon to me. It’s time that we had a woman in charge.”


Posted in Uncategorized on May 24, 2019 by drmagoo

I didn’t write a story for this one during the contest, because I was judging and I don’t like to think too much about the prompt while I’m judging. I don’t want my vision of a story to bias what I’m reading. But I wanted to write something, and here it is.
Prompt: https://siobhanmuir.com/thursthreads-7th-anniversary-week-364/

You sat on the corner of the sectional, knees bent, creating your own little world with you and your tablet. Your face was impassive, but studious, the light flickering in your eyes the only indication that you were busy.

Probably playing Words With Friends, as you so often did. So much better than me, teaching me by beating me up one side and down the other.

But then I saw a twinkle in your eye – just a hint of one. I saw you writing something, and I waited. There it was, a message to me. Nothing amazing – just some simple words saying hi. But then again, your words were never simple. Buried deep within them were messages that I could spend years delving into.

I loved that I brought a twinkle to your eye. That simple things mattered so much. That the touch of a hand on a foot conveyed a closeness I’d rarely encountered.

I saw you writing again. This time, it was words I’d never read. Things fall apart, the center cannot hold. But the twinkle is still there, refracted through a tear. Is it in my eye or yours?

Menage Monday, week 2×34

Posted in Uncategorized on May 20, 2019 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://www.caramichaels.com/defiantlyliterate/2019/05/20/menagemonday-challenge-week-2×34/

Despite the floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated the room, the lobby of the temple was cold. Cold air, cold marble, cold granite. Molly couldn’t envision these kinds of places ever feeling warm for her, not anymore. Her mother – the one who always brought warmth to her life – lay dead in a box. People were looking at her, though not many. There were some from where Molly’s mother had worked, Mrs. Janks, who lived across the hall, and her Aunt Judy. Molly didn’t want to be in that room. She knew what death was. She’d lost her dad – though they’d never talked much – when she was 14, and her grandmother even earlier. But her mom mattered in a way the others hadn’t. Her mother dying broke the rules, broke what little sense the world made.

On the table at the side of the room was a stack of books. No more than stories to Molly, they’d meant something to her mother, once upon a time, which is why she was here on this cold Thursday. She opened one of the books and flipped through it, hearing the sound of pages flapping against each other, smelling old paper and leather. On an impulse, she grabbed one of the books and fled outside. There was a torch there, burning in the memory of so many lost. She threw the book in and watched it catch, sparks rising to the sky.

But even that did not bring warmth, not anymore. Not to Molly.

#ThursThreads, week 363

Posted in Uncategorized on May 16, 2019 by drmagoo

Prompt: https://siobhanmuir.com/thursthreads-tying-tales-together-week-363/ 
The world was about to change, though I was the only one who knew it. I’d let the bullet fly, but it hadn’t reached its target yet. I’d frozen time here, at this instant, to savor the power I held over humanity.

A man was going to die seconds after I released my hold. An important man – one of many – but his death was going to reveal certain truths that were never meant to be widely known. He held power over all that lay within his domain, a king without the name. Nigh unto a god, as he should be.

Or so he thought.

No one in the world believed in me, in the sense that people believed in gods. Didn’t matter. I could exercise my will over them whenever and however I chose. Rapes, deaths, fantastic fortune, miracles – all were within my power, and I used it often. Reality was so random that no one ever knew.

There was no purpose to my actions other than whatever suited me at the time. It had been fun watching men and women gather power in secret cabals as if they knew secrets that made them immune to fate. And now it would be fun watching it all burn.

I put the gun in the hands of the woman I’d chosen to be the shooter. She was a good woman, by all human measures, and now she’d be a murderer. It was totally senseless, but that was part of the thrill.

#ThursThreads, week 362

Posted in Uncategorized on May 9, 2019 by drmagoo

Prompt: https://siobhanmuir.com/thursthreads-tying-tales-together-week-362/

I’d poured the whiskey because this felt like an occasion worth commemorating, but now that I had it, I didn’t want to touch the stuff. I just sat there swirling the brown liquid in the glass and watching the memories of how my life collapsed spin in front of me.

It starts with the fire. Seemed like no big deal at the time – no one was hurt, and we all got out of the house without any close calls. Our house wasn’t even that badly damaged. But I didn’t connect the dots between that fire and the one my wife had witnessed at school as a kid, and I made some jokes. Those jokes were the beginning of the end, though I certainly had no idea.

She sure did. She knew in that moment that I’d never see her as a whole person, I’d never remember that she’d be affected by things differently than I would.

The end didn’t come quickly. There were dozens of small injuries like that one to come before she told me it was over. Little moments where I showed her that she’d never be as important to me as she needed to be.

Now it’s over. She’s gone, our daughters living with her in the house – the same house that caught on fire, while I was sitting alone in this studio apartment with a whiskey I didn’t even want.

But I had my own fireplace. I stared into the flames and wondered what was next.