Archive for December, 2013

Five sentence fiction – alone

Posted in Uncategorized on December 18, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-alone/

Emma sat in her assigned seat, third from the back in the fifth row from the door. But Kyle Matthews, who’d been next to her in every class they’d shared for a decade, wouldn’t be making oinking noises when she leaned over to get something from her backpack. And Mrs. Ronson, who’d spent the last fourteen years trapped in the emotional jail that her husband had artfully crafted for her, wouldn’t be spending today undermining Emma with less-than-subtle reminders of each time she’d gotten a wrong answer on a test. She pulled out her phone and opened her contacts, smiling at the empty page. She’d gotten all of them, and it was time to learn.

Flashiversary!

Posted in Uncategorized on December 5, 2013 by drmagoo

The Dragon that Delivered Her From Grace
350 words
@drmagoo

The Dragon of Lost Hope glided smoothly over the water, concealed by a cold and heavy fog which darkened the hearts of the most innocent of children. This summoning had been particularly alluring, and the Dragon knew that it would feed well.

Grace was an unusual name for a hurricane, and those who lived in her path felt the lash of God’s own hand as she swallowed them into its maw. No one would ever get an accurate toll of the dead, and many of the survivors viewed them as the lucky ones, so complete and wanton was Grace’s wrath.

Mariah and Benji were the only people left from their village, which two days before had been a warm and boisterous hub of the local fishing trade. They walked over barren ground, as the majority of what had been their lives had been blown miles out to sea. No Red Cross food trucks were going to make it to this devastated a place any time soon, and the sea was still too roiled up with debris and death to release its bounty of fish.

Benji broke first, as the reality of what had happened to his family burst through the protective layers of disbelief his mind had created, and nothing Mariah could do dislodged him his internal darkness. Faced with the prospects of dying in this place, her stomach eating itself from the inside while her only companion howled silent tears at nothing, she did what her mother’s mother had taught her to do.

Mariah knew that Benji would pose an irresistible lure for the Dragon of Lost Hope. Beings of its kind rarely got to feed on ones so young. The old, beaten down by years of worldly abuse, gave up easily, and the inherent optimism of youth released a particularly potent elixir when it was crushed so rapidly.

While feeding, the Dragon would be distracted.

Like any good fisherwoman, Mariah stepped to the water’s edge and set her hook. Grace had sent her to hell, but she would ride to the future on the back of a dragon.

 

Prompt: http://flashfriday.wordpress.com/2013/12/02/flashversary-is-here/

Thurs Threads – week 98

Posted in Uncategorized on December 5, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://siobhanmuir.blogspot.com/2013/12/thursthreads-challenge-that-ties-tales.html

“Their reckoning will come.” Lord Valmont’s voice dripped with malice, and his chin dripped with grease from a game hen he had just torn in twain with his teeth. The king didn’t notice at first, since his good ear was currently focused on the whispers of the comely young wench draped over his enormous lap, but no one could dismiss Valmont for long, not when he was that shade of red.

The king thought of possible responses – he could ignore the Wolverine of the West, but that was like ignoring the fire when you rolled into it. He could demand justice for whatever Valmont was angry about, but whatshername in his lap had a twin sister. He decided to play the fool, because he was the only person in the kingdom who could get away with such an affront , and a good poking of the dragon would be nice foreplay for the poking later that evening.

“Yes! Next Tuesday soon enough for you?”

Valmont sputtered. “Tuesday? We’re going to invade England on Tuesday? The Channel is clogged with ice! Our ships would sink!”

“Who said anything about England? I assumed you meant whoever had tailored that doublet. You look like a stuffed rutabaga!”

The laughter was raucous, and the wench did something with her tongue that made the king think the time for poking had come. That was when he heard the scraping of metal and saw the point of Valmont’s sword at his throat.

“No, sire. Yours.”

Five sentence fiction – highway

Posted in Uncategorized on December 5, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-highway/

The road ahead of me disappeared into the horizon, manufacturing itself out of nothing as I drove, but never revealing to which ends it went. I had no maps with me, no GPS to guide my way, no destination in mind. But I had a full tank of gas, twenty thousand in cash in the trunk, a thermos full of whiskey and coffee, driving music on the radio, and, for the first time in a decade, no one in the passenger seat. An exit sign crept up on the right side of the road, a green and white icon of someone’s home. But not mine.

Finish That Thought, week 22

Posted in Uncategorized on December 3, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://alissaleonard.blogspot.com/2013/12/finish-that-thought-22.html

There was only one thing left to do, and then I’d hand over the keys to the new owners. The Johnstons had lived at 223 East Park Street for more than a hundred years, but I would be the last. The promotion was too important to me, and there wasn’t anything keeping me here anymore other than memories and fear. And that box in the basement.

I’d saved it for last, though it was clearly the most important. But I couldn’t trust something like this to the movers. It’s not that what was in the box was fragile, anything but, really. Even the stoutest trees could be felled, however, when struck in the right place, and that box was my right place.

I could have – maybe even should have – disposed of what was in the box long ago. We’d been together so long, though, that I never really considered it. Not seriously, at any rate. I knew how, of course – it wasn’t that hard, when it came right down to it. No one would ever find my wife’s body. I hadn’t wanted to get rid of her like that, but she found us in the basement one day when I thought she was at work, and that was that.

Even after all these years, I expected the box to be heavier than it was, but memories didn’t really have physical weight. I carried it easily up the stairs and out to the truck, where I’d left a place for it on the floor of the front passenger seat.

The last task done now, I shook Bob and Lisa’s hands and prepared to hop into the truck. They’d be good owners for this home, and maybe a new family history would be written here. For me, the last chapter was done. I looked down at the box and smiled, putting the truck into gear. We’d begin a new story in our new home, my sister and I.

 

Race the Date – week 5

Posted in Uncategorized on December 2, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://www.caramichaels.com/defiantlyliterate/2013/12/02/race-the-date-5/

I pried open the blankets covering the windows and shivered at the sight of the frost on the glass. It hadn’t gotten above freezing out there in more years than I could remember, and houses in New Orleans weren’t built for eternal winter. I’d done the best I could, but it was a losing battle. The only thing that had kept me alive was that the war had killed so many people that those of us were still left had access to a seemingly endless supply of frozen goods. But it was colder this year than last, and the cloud of fallout wasn’t getting any thinner.

Scraping off the frost, I caught sight of what had been making the noise that drew me to the window. Wading through the waist-deep snow was a young woman, not nearly dressed warmly enough for the weather, carrying a screaming child in her arms. They weren’t going to get much further if they didn’t get inside, and there weren’t any houses with anything resembling heat other than mine in the neighborhood. I stood as still as I could, afraid that any movement might draw her attention.

The light was fading, but it was still bright enough to see her drop to her knees, and then fall over. The child she had been carrying feel into a drift, and it was too small to get up. I could still hear its cries, although they were thin and reedy in the wind. There was no movement from the snow, and by the time it was fully dark, the street was silent again. I’d go outside tomorrow and retrieve their bodies. It was getting so hard to find food.