Author: R.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was ACT:

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

• Thomas Pitre
• Jeffrey
• Richard
• Steven the Nuclear Man
• Munsi
• Tom
• Lizzie
• Serendipidy Haven
• Singh
• Cliff – Uncle Monster
• Ishtar
• RedGoddess
• Norval Joe
• Justin
• Danny
• Tura Brezoianu
• Zackmann
• Planet Z

The next 100 word stories weekly challenge is on the topic of STAGE.

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

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THOMAS

If nothing else, she knew how to act. At 5’2”, she was a bundle of energy and talent. Little Dina, “Miss Dina” to her friends, could sing, dance and act. Her roles consisted of little girl and old lady parts. She retired after teaching at an exclusive girls school in the San Francisco Bay Area, and devoted time to her husband, and her beautiful garden. She still practiced the black arts…that is, she and her trio of black, Siamese mixes. Both she and the cats stalked and ate field mice and the hapless song bird that landed in the garden.

#

Tommy cheated on the ACT. He paid an older and smarter boy to take the test. His score jumped from eleven to thirty-five after hiring his doppelganger. The high score would assure his entrance into the college of choice. Tommy was going into the law. Although cheating on an important exam was a bad start for a lawyer, his desire to go into criminal law was an apt fit. Also, Tommy had no conscience, whatsoever. Never did. Never will. Perfect for corporate law, too. He went on to graduate and work with Monsanto, Dow and the El Chapo Guzman family.

#

Foss didn’t act appropriately at church, school, or when riding on public transportation. All other times, he was a perfect gentleman. No one could figure out the connection, but a clever man from Austin, Texas put two and two together and discovered that the seating at church, school, and on the bus had similar properties. Poor Foss had a serious allergy to Naugahyde. Naugahyde was made from the skins of the Nauga…an odd creature, native to Sumatra. Exposure to the off-gasing of the material affected Foss in such a way, that he would babble and recite Bible verses, trembling uncontrollably.

#

The large, block, letters painted on the big, back window act to warn the birds in the garden from flying into the glass. After witnessing a bird, taking its last breath, a speck of blood coming from its mouth, he was sick. He went to the garage, found and old can of white paint and a brush, and immediately painted the words “NO BIRDS” on his window. The warning has been there for two years, and no poor little birds have been hurt since. It is ugly, and the electric meter reader looked puzzled the first time she saw it.

#

Acts, chapter twenty, verse thirty reads: “Also of your own selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them.” This was on the poster for the fourth Friday poetry reading at the local coffee shop. It was a hook to recruit students for TJ’s writing workshop. It was subtle, but those that read the poster were curious enough to ask what the author of the poster meant, and he shrugged and said he thought it was catchy, and quoting Bible verse might entice some to join or pull in some of the atheists, wiccans, and agnostics.

JEFFREY

Act of God
by Jeffrey Fischer

The insurance company said the flood was an “act of God.” They pointed to tiny print in my contract and wouldn’t pay a dime. Act of God? More like poor maintenance by the water company, letting a water main break. What’s insurance for, anyway?

Well, we’ll see what those suits think of an “act of God” when they arrive at their burned-out shell of an office tomorrow. God starts fires, right?

If they still don’t pay, God and I know where each of those suits lives.

The Heist
by Jeffrey Fischer

“Act naturally,” Jose told me. We lounged against the brick wall of the Main Street Savings and Loan, trying to look like two guys having a conversation, rather than two guys on the lookout for any cops who might wander into the bank at the wrong time.

Everything was cool until the alarm sounded. Buzz and Rodrigo ran out, masks still on, a bag of cash in each hand. Two security guards followed, guns drawn.

Even then we might have escaped, melting into the crowd. Then Buzz slapped a bag into my hand and said, “Nice work, Slim! Here’s your share” before jumping into a waiting car.

Acting naturally doesn’t help when your accomplice is an idiot.

RICHARD

#1 – Dilemma

How should I act?

Always that same question… Should I be bold and brash, or cool and confident; should I project assertiveness or show off my sensitive side? Inevitably, I knew I’d get it wrong and, as always, it would end in complete disappointment.

Whether it was an interview, a first date or that all-important business meeting, you could always guarantee I’d blow it.

People would try and be helpful, but always the advice was the same: ‘Just be yourself’.

The thing is, it’s never quite as simple as ‘just being yourself’, when you suffer from having multiple personalities.

#2 – Acts of heroism

I’ve no time for Superman and his heroic services to justice – he’s not my idea of a hero.

I’d like to see him take on the forces of evil without his superpowers – because when you have the strength to move mountains, laser vision, lightning speed and can fly it’s no big deal; I’d probably be doing the same in his position.

What I’d like to see is Clark Kent have a go, without the cape and bulletproof skin – let’s see him protect the citizens of Metropolis, with only his glasses and briefcase to protect him.

Now that, would be heroic!

#3 – Act 2

My agent glared at me.

I’d promised him a completed draft and now, with only five minutes before meeting the producers, all he had was the first act, which was a shame, because most of the action and my cunning twist in the plot all happened in the second act.

I’d spent weeks working on that second act, poured all my creative skills into writing it, but all I had now was a pedestrian first act that lacked any real merit.

It was there when I caught the bus this morning, but somewhere on the journey….

I’d lost the plot.

#4 – Acting on instinct

Although the situation was completely novel to him, George’s instincts kicked in – almost without thinking he knew exactly how to act:

‘Rule 1’, he thought: ‘Find cover and get to know your environment.’

It was a good start, but it had been a while since he’d needed to rely quite so heavily on instinct, so for now, Rule 2 would just have to wait.

Running in a semi-crouch he’d picked up from the movies, he skirted a wall and, keeping a careful watch rearwards as he ran, failed to see the trouble straight ahead he was about to run into!

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

“C’mon,” the bear says,

gestures with a paw, a grin

“let’s catch some fish.”

The tiger follows the bumbling oaf

– her bumbling oaf –

her deliberate pawsteps behind

the crash and crunch of him

plowing through the bush.

She pretends to learn to fish.

In their cave feasting,

warm fish flesh sliding

gills tickling tastebuds,

the bear idly says he knew the spot

– he learned it –

from a friend,

a she-bear he knows.

His words crash and crunch.

As he lay asleep snoring bear snores, paw across her fur

she plots and plans how best to kill a bear.

MUNSI

Dinner Theater’s More Dangerous than You’d Think

By Christopher Munroe

During act two she had a heart attack.

She collapsed, friends rushing to the lobby to summon an ambulance, paramedics, the whole process.

And nobody told the actors. With stage lights to blind them, none of them had any inkling what was going on amongst the crowd.

So they continued the show.

Though they did realize, at some point, that they’d lost them. The laughter, so freely flowing during act one, had stopped, and they were baffled as to why.

They thought it was somehow their fault.

And I had to explain that it wasn’t them who’d died up there….

TOM

Brush Up your Shakespeare

Ren fairs are more invasive then yeast cultures. But the grand daddy of them all is the Northern California Fair. A few summers ago I volunteered to play in a DIY Shakespeare show. It was a cross between Six Characters in Search of an Author and Dueling Brandos. Random lines deliver from one of the bard’s work would get totally disjunctive replies from another work. My line was: Inconstant Moon, but that’s not what I yelled out. O, swear not by the moon, the incontinent moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable

LIZZIE

He hated publicity. Oh, no. No one was going to control him. He only did what he liked and not what they wanted. The problem started when he fell in love. He was not the master of his own life anymore; everything depended on her. He would go to the cafeteria just to see her and he waited for her at the supermarket to help with the heavy shopping bags. This lasted months until he saw an outdoor publicity that said “Act!” And that’s what he did; he simply kissed her! “I didn’t succumb to publicity after all,” he thought.

SERENDIPITY

He doubted that many loathed children quite so fervently – he hated everything about them, from their shrill screams and puerile giggling, to their sticky fingers and snotty noses.

Grimly he wondered how anyone could like the little buggers, yet he knew from experience that parents doted on them and could see no wrong in their ‘delightful’ progeny.

As he trudged through the wet grass, the clamour of young voices reached his ears, and he shuddered.

Grimacing, he straightened his bow-tie, pulled aside the canvas doorway and fell into the ring.

The children cheered, as the clown began his act.

SINGH

“Don’t over act, Meiling. Just go with the moment,” he cajoled.
The shoot was in a luxurious condominium pool next to the jungle.
Floating naked on the blow-up bed she was trying to cover up with a banana leaf. Johnny the male lead eyed her lustfully.
“Aiyoh, Director, first you say you use my dummy for this part. Now you change.
“Sorry. No budget, sweetheart.”
“This is very difficult.”
“Look, you want the job?”
“Yes, but,”
“Take it or leave it.
“But what if…”
“Relax. Believe me, this will kickstart your career.”
“Oh no…”
“Ok, open the crocodile cage, now!”

CLIFF

Acting is in the blood or so the saying goes. There are snobs who say that only Shakespearean theatre is true acting. Others say that you must do the Greek tragedies. On the other hand, those who do beer commercials are technically actors. Most people accept that, if you stand in front of a camera or on a stage and you say words that someone else wrote, then you are an actor. Some of us have more stringent standards. Acting is in the blood but actors are an acquired taste. A wise vampire is selective about the actors he chooses.

ISHTAR

I wanted to write a hundred word story about acting out.

Act out and be who you really are. Express yourself with all your potential.

But I wasn’t sure how it would work. Don’t we all do that every day.

Sure acting out can be fun, interesting or challenging. I want to act out more daily to keep sane while looking for work.

But today I decided, why not have fun doing it. Dress up like a super hero. Dress up in steam punk. Heck even run with scissors.

Act up I say. Act like a dinosaur running with scissors.

REDGODDESS

A warm soapy shower can wash away Lola’s daily aches. This morning though, she has too much on her mind to linger under the water. She stepped out and glanced at the foggy mirror. She can see her curves, the silhouette of her habits. Thirty more pounds before she becomes the mere image of her estranged mother. The stress has stretched to her belly and hips. Even though she grew up a world away from her, when cornered, she acts just like her mother. Her worse fear is now a reality, becoming the woman who abandoned her. Her body too, is steering toward a bigger betrayal, forcing her to face her past.

NORVAL JOE

A girl in a bright yellow, sundress held her soldier’s arm and smiled up at him, tears in her eyes.
Senator Porkpocket wrapped an arm around the soldier, eyed the television camera’s with a broad smile, and made a thumbs up with his other hand.
“Our state stands behind our young men serving abroad, and we stand behind those who return to us so bravely.”
The Soldier, the boy, shifted his crutch to maintain his balance on his new prosthetic leg. He stood tall, brave and stoic, his eyes fierce.
In their own way, each knew it was an act.

JUSTIN

My father went to work one day, but he never returned. Soon mother had sold everything, and debts were due, so the collector man came and took my brothers and sisters away to pay for the debts.

He didn’t take me because I was too small.

I’ll show him, I’ll show everyone! I’m going to rescue my brothers and sisters.

Weather they be on land, sea or air, I will find them, and I will bring them home to mother.

And, maybe, I will find father while I am out there.

Then we can all be a family again. Together.

DANNY

The level of violence is off the scale. “What do you think?” NANCY GRACE asked. “What, right now?” I responded. “No, tomorrow night!” the bitch replied. “What a relief! I hate thinking under pressure, which leads me to realize we are actually doing our children a favor sending them to a cold concrete box called school, pretending they can learn in such a cold cinderblock environment. We are not teaching them how to think nor act, how to stand on their own two feet, we are just teaching them how to behave within an unreasonably structured society.” Then the FBI stormed in.

TURA

When a new emperor is installed, he proclaims his First Act, which is customarily to execute the previous emperor’s advisors for disloyalty. Some also execute the senior secretaries and generals.

When Kang-sheng ascended the Peacock Throne, he proclaimed his First Act against the country itself, for having changed its allegiance to every new emperor down the centuries.

General Wei declared, “Let us truly grasp the significance of this Emperor’s superlative First Act!” That night, the Emperor’s guards imprisoned him, while a new Emperor was installed, whose First Act was only to execute Kang-sheng. Thereafter, the First Act fell into disuse.

ZACKMANN

“Isn’t your friend Paul in the theater?”

“What’s that sonny?”

“Is Paul in Acts?”

“Of Course Paul is in the book of Acts.”

“I wish you would stop acting like you are hard of hearing.”

“Well, I wish you would stop actsing me stupid questions, why does someone your age want to spend time in an old people’s home anyway? Why are you hanging out with your juvenile delinquent friends?”

“Because I didn’t want to serve my community service with anyone who smells like Ax body spray.”

“Too bad, you could have severed it as stagehand for my friend Paul.”

PLANET Z

“The time for debate is over,” said the president. “It is time to act.”

He then left the podium, went back to his dressing room, and put on his costume.

In the meantime, the press secretary handed out programs.

After a few minutes, he flicked the lights to let the press corps know it was time to take their seats.

Three hours later, the curtain came down.

Some applauded.
Some didn’t.

There was much debate about the performance among the press.

Until one reporter stood up and said:

“The time for debate is over…”

They ran to their dressing rooms.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was PLAY:

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

• Thomas Pitre
• Richard
• Jeffrey
• Mardra
• Cliff – Uncle Monster
• Tura Brezoianu
• Munsi
• Lizzie
• Tom
• Serendipidy Haven
• Steven the Nuclear Man
• Zackmann
• Bonchance and Sevi
• Singh
• RedGoddess
• Norval Joe
• Danny
• Justin
• Planet Z

The next 100 word stories weekly challenge is on the topic of ACT.

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

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THOMAS

He didn’t learn how to play until he was forty – not an instrument, but the recreational activity usually engaged in by young children that is meant to entertain. His father was a chemist and his mother was a physicist, so little Moritz had no guidance or demonstration as how to play. Moritz’ time was spent reading and experimenting with various apparatus his parents gave him. He recorded all his experiments. He burned the house and parents to the ground, and wrote down everything he heard and saw in his log. Today, he plays table tennis in the psyche institution.

#

Arum played the Sousaphone; loud. She did hours of lip slurs every day to strengthen her embouchure. Arun did some other things, too, but you will have to use your imagination. The result was the invitation to play first position in the local Tanjidor group. After rehearsal last night, Arum thought her instrument needed its water emptied. She lifted it up, so the bell faced the sky and pressed the valves repeatedly, failing to pull out the valve slide and empty it. The water rushed into the mouthpiece, the spit valve jammed shut, and she succumbed to a hideous drowning.

#

The one act play was a little piece that was meant to make a political statement, as the school was in San Francisco and it was 1961. I recall it had one actor, and it took place in the men’s room of a gas station. The character entered the station’s bathroom, did his business behind a closed lavatory door, washed his hands, then went to the paper towel dispenser. A big sign over the towels read: “Rip up and Tear Down”. The actor tore savagely at the towel dispenser, destroying it, tearing it off the tiled wall. The lights dimmed.

#

[Credit to Prairie Home Companion, of March, 2000.]

Jimmy loved word play. He was half-heartedly applying for a job with a conservative, financial firm, writing: Dear Sir or Sodom or Whom It May Constrict: I understand you are hiring anal lists, and hereby present my amplification for annoyment by your firm. I have listed my accomplishments in ascending order, along with a sample of addition and long division. As you see, I have long expedience in grammar and was medicated in the best schools and my dream is to grow fat with your company. Enclosed, my most recent consomme. Please feel free, as I remain your humble serpent.

RICHARD

#1 – Win at all costs

“It’s just a game to you!”, she hissed…

“You play with my emotions, lead me on, lie to me, cheat and mess with my head. I’m sick of it and I’m telling you, buster, I’m not going to be your doormat – so go ahead and do your worst, because I’m in this thing to the very end.”

I’d seen her like this before and I knew there was simply no reasoning with her; still, I had to try:

“Look honey, you know the rules… we’ve gotta stick to them”

I guess we do take Monopoly pretty seriously in this household.

#2 – Shakespeare

I’m not a huge fan of Shakespeare’s plots, or the historical context of his writing – not that there’s anything wrong with them, but rather, I appreciate the way he uses words far more than I do the twists and turns of fate that he manages to contrive, and the fortunes of his characters.

I’m intrigued and fascinated by his use of language, by the tongue in cheek manner he manipulates words to mock and entertain.

When I go to see Shakespeare, I don’t go to watch actors performing on a stage, no – I go to see a play… on words.

#3 -The Pianist

“When you play, he said, you must become one with your instrument. The strings should vibrate in tune with your soul and the keys must respond, not only to your fingers, but to your very emotions. Understand that the piano is not the instrument – it is you from which the music flows.

Then and only then, can you truly play.”

Enraptured by his music, I could only gaze in helpless, horrified fascination as there before me he sacrificed his very being at that ivory and ebony altar, until finally, with one fatal, final chord, he breathed his last and died.

#4 – The light of day

Blinking in the sunlight, George breathed deeply, savouring the freshness of the open air.

He was unsure what he should do – having made the decision to strike out, he now realised how woefully ill-equipped he was for the task ahead. He felt the embarrassment of being completely out of his depth and unsure, something he’d not experienced since a child. In his minds eye, he saw himself as a young boy: invited to play with the big boys, but ignorant of the rules or his role in the game.

OK – he’d just have to make up his own rules.

JEFFREY

The Ride
by Jeffrey Fischer

“Oh, just play outside by yourself, Bobby. Mommy has a headache.” Six-year-old Bobby knew that meant the “my grains” had come on and any noise would make his mother cross, so he stood in the front yard practicing with his yo-yo. He didn’t hear the car roll up to the curb.

“Hey, you’re Bobby, right?” called a man from the car. Bobby nodded. “Neat yo-yo, Bobby. I’ve got the neatest yo-yo you’ve ever seen. Hop in and I’ll show you.”

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“But I’m not a stranger – I even knew your name, so it must be okay.”

Bobby cast an apprehensive look back at his front door, where his mother slept the last good sleep of her life, and opened the passenger door.

This is Your Life
by Jeffrey Fischer

The invitation was hand-written and slipped under the apartment door. “Come to the premiere of a new play, ‘This is Your Life.’ This card is your VIP ticket.” A date, time, and place were below.

Louise threw away the card, but, intrigued, pulled it from the trash can. No doubt this would be amateur hour, but she had nothing to do that evening and decided to attend.

As she entered the theater, her eyes adjusted to the dark. She was alone. Frightened, she turned to leave, but heard the doors lock behind her. The stage lights came on, the curtains opened, and a shrouded figure said, “Louise, this is your life. Tonight is the last scene of the last act.”

Wrong Note
by Jeffrey Fischer

The sax man played a note-perfect solo before the rest of the band rejoined him in the chorus. Kevin enjoyed the musicianship for a moment before turning to the problem at hand: getting the girl next to him at the bar to go home with him.

He met her earlier in the evening, and they hit it off. Two drinks later, he thought he could close the deal. “The band is great,” he told her, “but we could make some music of our own back at my place.”

She rolled her eyes. “I had rather hoped you weren’t just a player, but were looking for something a little more meaningful. Well, live and learn.” She stood to leave.

Play’s the Thing
by Jeffrey Fischer

The last play of the game. Five seconds on the clock, down by six, forty yards to go. Coach had called Marvin’s number, a deep route to the end zone with the ball ending up in the wide receiver’s arms. That would be Marvin’s arms.

He lined up on the outside and got a good jump as the ball was snapped. He faked left but stepped right, then was a flash of lightning down the field. The ball spiraled into Marvin’s outstretched fingertips…

“Marvin, stop daydreaming and get off that couch. The garbage isn’t going to take itself out.”

MARDRA

Daddy’s Game

“Can’t you keep that kid quiet?” he yelled through the apartment’s paper-thin wall. “All she wants to do is play, play, play!”

“Why can’t daddy play with me?”

“Oh Sarah, daddy’s busy.”

“Why?” The three syllable wail cut through his concentration, making him crazy.

“Please…I’m trying to concentrate.”

“He just needs to get through the library, then he’ll feel better,” she explained. “Come with mommy, we’ll go outside and wait for daddy.”

“Just because mommy got through the library first does not make her the Halo queen!” he yelled, feeling her lingering smug smirk as she closed the front door.

CLIFF

I stood in the wings and went over my line again.
“Who?”
That was it. Just one word. The main character runs up and asks if Nicholas Nicklemeyer lives near here and I simply say “Who?” while looking confused. It shouldn’t be hard. I’d volunteered to help build the set, not act. When Jeff got sick, I was handed the bit part. I only had time to read this one scene.

That’s how I ended up standing there, waiting for my cue. Before I knew it, it was time. I stepped onstage, listened to the question, and loudly asked “What?”

TURA

Play
——–
Peter Jackson is squeezing six hours of film out of The Hobbit, but for me, nothing can beat the 45 minute stage play of Lord of the Rings (Without the Boring Bits). Who could forget John Cleese’s arresting preformance as Gandalf? (“Don’t mention the ring! I did once, but I think I got away with it.”) And Terry Scott was born to play Frodo! Ant and Dec were Pippin and Merry, and Sam Gamgee was none other than Martin Freeman, Sancho Panza to Terry Scott’s Quixote, and currently starring in Jackson’s attempt to wring a flood from a damp cloth.

MUNSI

Play

(among others)

By Christopher Munroe

I’m white, male, and from the ‘90s.

As such, in high school I owned one album each by Moby, Weezer and The Offspring.

You know the ones.

They were ubiquitous pieces of music at the time. Everyone owned and loved them, they were inescapable.

For women my age it was the first Jewel album and Alanis Morrisette. Every girl I dated in university had them both.

I’m at best lukewarm on the artists nowadays, but I’ll admit, I still smile when I hear those particular records.

They’re the soundtrack of my youth.

And I need that reminder now and again…

LIZZIE

If he played his cards right, he’d be granted a fortune. That’s what hopeless bachelor Ben thought, after his grandmother fell ill. That last Sunday at the hospital, she raised herself slightly from the pillow and told Ben “Grateful to Nurse Mary. Money goes to her.” She winked and died. Ben was appalled. He visited his grandmother faithfully every day for years, twice a day at the hospital! But, being a pragmatic man, he invited Nurse Mary for dinner. They got married and were very happy. It was only many years later that Ben understood the meaning of that wink!

TOM

The Gap

I played the tape over and over. I couldn’t believe what the old man had said. I was only 19 and it was clear to me this was not a good thing to have lying around. The worst part was it kept popping up over a 19 min chuck of tape. No way to edit it out. So I copied it to a second reel to reel and cut the volume for 16.5 minutes. Later I learned Rosemary had fallen on her sword over the gap no doubt at the prompting of Colson. A simple relabeling buried the evidence in plan sight

SERENDIPITY

Does God play dice?

He most certainly does – anything to get away from those tedious choirs of angels.

He used to play World of Warcraft but fantasy isn’t really God’s forte, he’s more a reality sort of guy, so he switched to Second Life, before leaving in a huff when he found that ordinary avatars weren’t allowed god powers.

He gave poker a try, but ‘having the boys round for a game of cards’ meant inviting Old Nick too, and things tended to get a bit heated!

So, dice it is…

Anything to get away from those awful celestial choirs!

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

The lights dim, the crowd silences.

He strides out from the wings – his shadow overlarge, distorted in the few paces before the blue spear of the spotlight catches him. Surely it is just a trick, an illusion.

“You have come for a show!” His mouth smiles, wet and wide, not reaching his eyes. He gestures toward the curtain.

The red cloth pulls back as the shapes behind it lurch and gibber and thrust their way forward through the crowd’s screaming flesh.

“So have they,” he says through his too-wide smile. “Because all the world’s a stage.”

“And all-you-can-eat buffet.”

ZACKMANN

I thought I heard about an app that could save me money on live theater productions but I can’t remember the new name for Android Market. My kid is upstairs practicing drums and guitar. What a racket. I wonder if he is using both instruments at the same time. His mom just pressed that button with the sideways triangle on the DVD player. His brother is on the picnic table in the park near the place where the slides and swings are. He is likely in the middle of a game of Munchkin. Just what is Android Market’s current name?

SEVI AND BONCHANCE

Oklahoma

Mollie had her ritual. At lunch, she sat on her front porch,
sipping steaming, milky and just slightly sweet tea.
She watched the energetic children play in the school yard yonder.

Mollie’s own were all grown, living several states away raising their families.

She was away when it hit, it seemed so surreal.

She saw the aftermath on the news. She barely recognized her beloved home and playground.

No point returning there if all was demolished.

Her memories would serve her well, of sunny days,
on her porch sipping tea, hearing the musical sounds and laughter of children at play.

The Play

Sitting in a darkly lit room. I am entranced in the play.

Blending into the background, fading to black, no longer glancing at newcomers, waiting for the name call.

Then they arrive.

One vibrant and stealthy strong, pushes a wheelchair of another, just the opposite.

The vibrant man checks in, does the talking and endorses paperwork.

Looking at the others, at first watch then turn their heads.
I watched him maneuver so they could sit side by side.

I once read of the Sacred Band of Thebes. Where lovers showed bravery in the face of death.

This was bravery facing life.

REDGODDESS

All work and no play has taken a toll on Lola’s life. Her eyes are tired and sad. There was a time she assumed fun was overrated, but now…she’s throwing caution to the wind. She invited her lover to her new place for a surprise indoor picnic, filled with mystery games, and tantalizing exotic foods. First, she blindfolds him the moment he walks through the door. They hug for what seems like hours before she leads him on the bed for a sensual massage. She has no plans to take it beyond touch, good food and conversation tonight. His smell fulfills her in ways beyond any sexual satisfaction. By the third glass of wine, they were half naked and sharing secrets. Suddenly he became serious, “truth or dare?” he asks. Truth, she whispers playfully. Why are you afraid to be mine?

NORVAL JOE

“Are you ready to play?” Kirk asked and threw his heavy sack onto the sand.
“Is that what this is to you? A game?” Conner asked, bouncing his own leather sack in his hand as if comparing its weight to Kirk’s.
“Ok. Call it war, then,” Kirk said, drawing a line in the sand with his heel. “Are you going to fight or just talk about it?”
Anger rose on Conner’s freckled cheeks and he narrowed his eyes at his opponant.
“Fine. School rules, no cat eyes, and playing for keeps,” Conner said and tipped his marbles on the sand.

DANNY

Every rational definition dictates I am supposed to be nothing more than a stereotype, but I am not. I’m way to busy living, creating, writing. My life, if nothing more than a mad dash, throwing every thought on paper, creating every digital design I can create, photographing every profound thing I see in nature. I’m trapped within this urgency that I must complete all of this before I die, because even if there are literally still decades yet before me, there really isn’t that much time left. I must hurry, there is simply not enough time for me to play.

JUSTIN

One problem with making massively multiplayer games is you can have all your best people try and make everything work correctly, but someone just might forget one little thing and create an exploitable bug. Then the masses play the game, and a few will discover the exploit, and some will report it, but others will take advantage.

That’s why we couldn’t play Neverwinter last weekend. Some people exploited a bug so badly we not only lost a few days to try and play, they had to roll back the servers a week, deleting progress.

Thanks exploiters. Die in a fire.

PLANET Z

Years ago, I had every Doors album, and a few bootleg tapes.

Everyone would gather at this one guy’s house to drunk and stoned, and we’d play that music all night long.

I couldn’t sing for shit, but I didn’t care.

Put in a tape, any tape, and hit play.

When I got to college, I bought “The Best Of The Doors” on CD.

I’d given up trying to out-sing Jim, but I sure as hell tried to out-drink and out-smoke him.

Now, my iPhone is Doors-free.

No smoking. And no way I drink that much anymore.

Amen, Reverend Jim.