Weekly Challenge #812 – UNSURE

Tinny vs Lion

KELLY

She knew she loved him. Even though she knew from the beginning not to. He really did give her every reason to run, but the young woman wanted so badly to love him for who he was. After a long time, a child, lots of pets, oh…and that terrible time in the ICU, she still tried and tried. Giving all, but receiving nothing in return…she was left alone. Nearly 29 years of marriage and a real hit to her sanity…he left her…because he was unsure of who he was and now all is lost. Goodbye forever.

RICHARD

Unsure

Unsure: The new fragrance for men!

Do you struggle to impress women? Do you lack confidence? Do social situations make you feel awkward?

Unsure for men will change your life!

Spray it all over, and its long-lasting fragrance of despair and desperation, with subtle undertones of longing and wistfulness will make you irresistible to the fairer sex!

What woman could resist the urge to mother and smother you in the kind of affection that only pity can inspire?

How can she possibly withstand that sweet, sad, smell of helplessness?

Unsure: Because you’re not worth it, but she can’t help herself!

LIZZIE

He thought he had led a good life until someone from out of town whispered something in his ear. It wasn’t easy to upset him and yet here he was, panicking. He took the fish from the lines where it was drying and hid it in a bag. He looked at his hands and felt the need to wash them, frantically, obsessively. But he just stood there. And he wondered… He wondered if the stranger really knew what he had done, traveling through space but, above all, through time, that time he had so desperately tried to run away from.

SERENDIPIDY

I started a new business in unsurance sales.

No, you didn’t mishear that, I really did say unsurance.

You see, the problem with todays’ woke snowflake generation, is that there’s very little to worry about. There’s always an insurance policy to fall back on in case of loss, damage or theft.

There’s no risk, no sense of danger, and no element of fear.

And I’m out to change all that.

Buy one of my policies, and I can guarantee you’ll be pretty unsure about anything that might happen in the future.

Particularly, since I specialise in policies for life unsurance!

DUANE

I’m kind of unsure how I got here. I surely wasn’t smarter than anyone else. I hadn’t come from money or had any real advantages. So how did I get here? I guess it was the choices I made in life. I took years deciding what profession to pursue. Spent hours determining what wear to the interview. Choices of hair and eye color.

The receptionist hands me a form to fill out. Name? I’ll go with Martin. David. No, Joshua. Date of Birth? Should I be old or young? Thirty-five seems reasonable. Sex? “Excuse me, could we reschedule for tomorrow?”

TOM

What Could Go Possible Wrong 012

Rolling to the floor unsure of the direction of the shooter Parker tilted the table above him. To his left and right he could see his mate seeking safety. A volley again, some rattling the table top, other piecing wood impacting the floor around him. Weapon thought Parker, something, anything. All he had was the pint glass in his hand. Was the last thing he would see a blurred shadow on a glass. No, not a shadow a form. The form of a water fowl wrapped about the glass. He cocked an arm blindly and letting fly. Duck he yelled

NORVAL JOE

Not entirely clear on what a weather witch was, Billbert asked Sabrina. “Do you honestly believe you control what the weather does?”
Clearly not unsure of herself, Sabrina said, “Of course we do, among other things.”
“Other things? Like what?” Billbert asked, skeptically.
“We know things about people and we can affect them. Like you and your family. I know about you, your schedule at school, where you live. We brought you here.”
Billbert couldn’t accept this claim. “You brought us all the way from Fresno?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Don’t lie. I know you’re not from Fresno.”

PLANET Z

Most kids asked Santa for bikes or dolls or footballs.
That kind of thing.
For Christmas, Ellie wanted the truth.
“Are you sure you don’t want a puppy?” asked her parents.
Santa looked over the letter and sat back in his chair.
“You want the truth?” said Santa. “Okay. You’ll get the truth.”
So, while other kids were opening boxes with their bikes or dolls and footballs, Ellie opened a box and got the truth.
“It’s empty,” said Ellie, turning the box over and shaking it. “There’s nothing in it.”
Santa watched from the window, and vanished into the snow.

A billion miles away

We spend billions and billions of dollars to build the probe.
So many tests and fixes and re-tests.
Hauling it up to the rocket and fitting it.
Launching it, and slingshotting it from planet to planet.
Parking it in orbit with the gentlest and most cautious braking rocket thrusts.
Success! Success!
We all cheer!
Time to work.
It takes 90 minutes for commands to reach the probe.
And 90 minutes for confirmation to return.
A billion miles away, we wait for the images to appear.
Black. More black. Endless black.
Only then do we realize… nobody took the lenscap off.

The barbershop singers

They were a strange barbershop quartet.
All four men were bald.
And not clean-shaven bald, but patchy and scruffy bald.
With unkempt beards and mustaches, looking like savages and wildmen.
They couldn’t sing.
They screamed and hollered and shrieked.
There was no musical quality to what was coming out of their mouths.
They also varied in numbers.
Only rarely were there four of them.
Three, Five, Two, Twenty… who knew how many of these strange men would show up to yell and moan together.
The barber called the asylum to pick up their patients.
My how the butterfly nets flew!

Bad moose

My moose is a very bad moose.
I won’t just leave my moose at the pound.
So he ends up someone else’s bad moose.
A cycle of badness, not good for the moose.
Or let him loose.
A bad moose on the loose?
Very bad.
So, I took him to moose school.
To learn to be a better moose.
The best instructors teach at moose school.
Moose experts, each and every one.
They teach moose to be better moose.
They use the latest moose teaching techniques.
None of them are abusive.
Abused moose are bad moose.
And they never learn.

The mailing lists

The great thing about this lockdown is that I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.
I used to get spam from Ticketmaster, promoting concerts and sports events and local art shows.
And the restaurant guides would fill my inbox with so many places to eat.
Sometimes, I’d think about one or two of them.
Maybe even look them up on a map.
No, I never went to any of these.
Never had the heart to unsubscribe from the mailers, either.
Because, what if… maybe… nah.
Who am I kidding?
Now that everything is closed down, the lists went mercifully silent.

Knock on my office door

It’s been a while since someone knocked on the door to my office and walked in anyway.
No waiting for me to say come in. Or to say I’m busy with something.
Or them asking what I’m working on.
It never ends well.
Now, I’m working from home. Everyone is working from home.
We’re connected via a Slack messaging platform.
So, they now ping me with a message of “Hi.”
Not what they need. Just a “Hi.”
It’s bait. So I wait.
Eventually, they ask for what they need.
“Thinking. I’ll get back to you on this.”
Maybe I will.

A trip to the dentist

The dentist gives out lollipops to all the kids.
Grape, cherry, strawberry, bubblegum.
It doesn’t matter what flavor, really.
They all have that little special extra ingredient.
One that rots kids teeth.
Not sugar. They’re sugar free.
But there’s an enzyme that promotes bacteria growth and inhibits calcium production.
So their teeth practically melt away.
And the only thing that can stop the rotting?
The dentist. Frequent, painful visits to the dentist.
Then, an assistant talked to the cops.
They found her in the empty office, mouth stuffed with lollipops, with a toothless grin.
Or was it a silent scream?

Weekly Challenge #811 – PICK TWO Vase, Rub, Top, Spring fresh, Chime, The End, Crop

Flippy kitty

LIZZIE

“The End”.
She put the pen down, happy.
The book was published. But she abhorred the cover. And she was very vocal about it too. No one listened because the book was a success, “a huge success” as the publisher always made a point of stressing.
OK, fine! So be it.
Her next book was called “The Fool”. And she loved the cover, a photo of a foot sticking out of the ground. She had taken it herself with her cellphone. It was much cheaper than hiring some top designer.
Buying the gun, however, did mess up her whole budget…

RICHARD

The end of the beginning

The end!

I know it’s a weird way to begin a story, but the fact is I struggle to come to a satisfactory conclusion to anything I write.

However, I’ve never had a problem with beginnings, so now I work to my strengths and end my stories in the opening paragraphs. It brings an added bonus that, after working my way through to a logical conclusion, I don’t have to come up with a great ending.

Because I’ve already done it: At the beginning!

I’ve done it with this story too…

You’ll find the end, right at the very top!

SERENDIPIDY

You really don’t want to rub me up the wrong way; I’m not one to tolerate being messed about, as many have found to their cost.

I refuse to feel any guilt about it. After all, you can’t say that I haven’t given you fair warning, and if you choose to ignore it, then you’ve only got yourself to blame.

And, I think you should know, you’re already pushing your luck by asking me to explain myself in this way.

So, either piss off, or prepare yourself for the worst.

Because I’m rapidly coming to the end of my tether!

DUANE

Pick two: Vase & Rub

The end of the aisle on the bottom shelf Dean saw the old vase.

“It could have once held a genie,” he joked to Ann.

“No, silly. Lamps hold genies, not vases.”

At home Dean noticed a smudge he hadn’t seen at the store. He added some goo remover and started rubbing. The vase shook and smoke came from the top. What appeared wasn’t a genie. It was a very angry old lady from New Jersey.
Rather than granting wishes, she just complained and criticized everything. She didn’t stop complaining until Ann sent the old lady home in an Uber.

Since Records Began

Every morning at dawn Ohg would set a stone at the front of the cave entrance to show another peaceful night had passed. He didn’t know how many stones he had gathered since numbers had yet to be invented. There was a stack of stones. That was all he understood.

One day the hill people from across the river attacked as Ohg was placing his morning stone. Picking up and throwing rock after rock he was able fight off the invaders and drive them back across the river. The next morning Ohg placed one stone in front of the cave.

TOM

What Could GO Possible Wrong 011

Ford’s first thought was Cervantes had transmogrified into the bar. He grabbed brass handle and swung the door open. He saw how wrong he could be. The place was filled with Roundheads. “1600’s” he cursed. While is traditional Oxford growns, he could easily pass as a time local, he had in the past encounter some the same men in the room. Not good. Worst Molly Fields was crossing the floor toward him, having abandoned the captain of the company. Not good thought Ford. Molly smiles and whispered in his ear,” How’s bout a top rub dearie?” Then it got worst.

NORVAL JOE

“That’s interesting,” Billbert said. “Will you share this family secret with me?”
Sabrina laughed. “Most family secrets in Humbolt county is their hidden marijuana crop. For us, it goes back even before the pot came here. But, in the end, it’s come down to me to carry on our tradition.”
“Okay,” Billbert said. “Are you like, the last witch in your family line?”
She shook her head. “We’re not just regular old witches. We’re weather witches.”
“It’s rained non-stop since we moved here,” Billbert said. “Is that because of you.”
She shrugged. “We like the spring fresh smell it brings.”

JARED

Synesthesia

She turned on the faucet and let the water run to warm up for her shower. She noticed that she could smell the temperature of the water. At first, it had a mintiness. She held her hand in the spray. It became tepid and the mint began fading and she smelled a grassiness, then fresh herbs, and then floral notes. It was nearly warm enough and she could smell soil. She closed her eyes and the Spring-fresh bouquet transported her to the fields of new crops of her past. She stepped into the shower, and began weeping, smelling her childhood.

PLANET Z

The Ghost Dance promises a blanket of fresh soil and grass over the broken, barren lands.
To bury the treacherous white man and his broken treaties, to welcome the buffalo and horses back to the plains.
We will together, all tribes, together, hunt and ride and plant and laugh in freedom.
The birds will sing, and we will sing with them.
I know the Ghost Dance is a lie. We have lost, and will keep losing.
But the Ghost Dance scares the white man, so we dance it.
The Army threatens us. The missionaries threaten us.
But we dance on.

Laundry wagon

I had my rolling laundry hamper for years.
It wore out, and I needed a new one.
So, I got another one. A round one with little wheels.
Which, after a month, broke easily.
So, I got another.
It had flimsy support rods in the sides.
So, I got another.
And another.
And another.
They all were broken easily.
Then, I got a folding beverage wagon.
The kind that you use on the beach for ice and drinks.
And I got plastic laundry baskets to stack in it.
It works great. When I can keep the cats out of it.

My cats let me live with them

Since the pandemic began, I’ve worked from home.
I have two cats, and as much as they like me giving them attention, they think of home as their space, not mine.
So when I stay at home all day to work, I’m intruding on their space.
They follow me around. They jump on me and rub their faces against my face.
When I go outside, they want to be outside with me.
And then, at some point, they go off to their own spots to sleep.
I look for them, and they chirp in indignation, and go to sleep again.