Category: Weekly Challenge

• Richard
• Lizzie
• Lisa
• Norval Joe
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Planet Z

The next topic is Brain surgery

RICHARD

Home Run
‘Honey, I’m home!’
He looked at her; she looked at me; I looked at him; he looked at me in surprise.
‘And, who the hell is this?’
‘Oh, this is that guy from the office. The one I was telling you about. You remember? The ‘porn star’’
The ground still resolutely refused to open up beneath me. Having no other option, I gave smiled weakly.
‘Hi.’
‘He doesn’t look like a porn star’ he thundered, striding down the hallway.
Seizing my chance, I made a break for it, sliding past him on my knees, reaching for the door, and freedom!

LIZZIE

Step into my office, my lovely. Join us, join us… join us… join… The words lulled her mind. His voice softer and softer, almost a whisper. His office was the table by the window at the local diner. Somehow, he had found the most remote community in the middle of the desert. Nothing but dust and lizards. Oh, and the things too, a half-breed of zombified entities the aliens had left behind. They are lizards, he said, right before the lulling echo. She protested. Lizards or zombies? The last thing she heard was… we have died and so will you.

LISA

WFH
Things have changed since covid. I used to have a long commute: taxi, train and a bit of a walk to get to work; now some days I don’t even get up from my bed.
In the office I wore a suit. My home’s a warm place and I run hot so I tend to work in just my underwear. Working from home has made me a lot more efficient: long meetings I sit on the toilet and just make sure my microphone’s muted.
My boss rang and asked if I’d start coming into work again. He’s worried about productivity.

NORVAL JOE

“What’s going on?” Billbert asked.

“Joan,” his father shouted, pacing around the room. “I was at the office when central command called. They need your mother in DC right away.”

Mrs. Weinerheimer hurried into the room, Sabrina right behind.

“Good. Joan,” his father said. “We have a flight to Sacramento at 8 am. They said to pack for an extended stay.”

Billbert looked at the Speedway tickets on the end table. “What about the NASCAR race on Saturday. We have to be there.”

“Sorry, Billbert,” his dad shook his head. “That will have to wait. This is of national importance.”

SERENDIPIDY

I always fancied having a big office.
You know the sort: ornate mahogany desk, and an expensive tooled leather chair, in front of a large window with views across the city, silhouetting me nicely.
And not forgetting the big red button under the desk.
The one that flips open the trapdoor and drops you into the shark tank below.
Ah well, one can dream.
The reality is a cubicle under flickering fluorescent lights and a frayed old swivel chair with a wobbly castor.
No big red button.
No trap door.
No shark tank.
This job will still kill you though.

TOM

Bitter as an empty glass 2

The office door of the Wavery swung wide. Jordan Stein exited with $5 Havana stogie dropping ash of the stage floor. “Where’s god damn choir line?” I pipe up there are on break, remember the union? “Let the union pound sand. I got a show to run. Let’s see some legs flying. I says I’ll check in the alley. In those days everyone smoked, and dancers where no exception. Mary had bummed a fag off Jimmy the understudy. The rim light from the alley gave her a merle oberon glow. “Showtime kids, breaks over.” Mary tossed her cigarette over her shoulder.

PLANET Z

People ask me what the grim reaper carried before farming implements were invented. And I guess it all depends on whether the site was invented before or after the ox plow. Although considering how slow oxen are when plowing, you could get a fair bit of distance between you and them if you saw them coming. And before that, the guy in the robe was smacking people with tree branches or bashing them with rocks. Which wasn’t all that convenient when there weren’t any trees or rocks around. So he’d just punched the Neanderthal really hard. Get the job done.

• Lizzie
• Norval Joe
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Planet Z

The next topic is Office

TOM

Bitter as an empty glass

The bartender looks at me, then posed this question, “An empty glass is often a beginning of someone’s sad story. If you’re willing to talk, I’m willing to listen.” Since the Jack Daniels had been drained a good 20 minutes ago, this was my cue to share the bitter tale of Mary Jane Spanner. All Mary Jane wanted to do is dance on Broadway. Not a big role, just being one of the gypsies. I’d been working lighting at Waverly, she wasn’t that talented nor a real good looker, but the kid and a fire that lite up the stage.

NORVAL JOE

Mrs. Weinerheimer went to the kitchen and, pulling an empty glass from the dishwasher, she filled it with ice water and followed Sabrina.

Mandi sat on the couch next to Billbert and said, “That girl is such a drama queen.”

Billbert raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think she had a horrible experience in that basement?”

Mandi shrugged. “Maybe. I think she’s just bitter that you want me to join you on your mission and not replace me with Bobbie.”

Mr. Weinerheimer charged into the house. “Where’s your mother? Sorry Billbert, but you’ll be on your own for a few days.”

SERENDIPIDY

It’s on nights like this, bitter cold, when frost covers the ground that you’ll find me about my business.
Even the freshly dug soil is hard as iron, and it’s difficult, exhausting work to dig down the full six feet.
It warms me up nicely in no time though.
Why not wait for warmer nights, you may ask, when the soil is soft and the digging easy?
But that, my friend, shows just how little you know.
It needs to be cold, as cold as ice. The ground frozen almost solid.
Because that way, the bodies stay fresh, and tasty.

LIZZIE

He slumped into a rusty chair someone left by the outside wall. He was the epitome of an empty glass. No car, no house, no pet, no marriage, no kids… in this order. “Believe in yourself,” someone told him. Oh, he believed, alright, because his wife sold the house, kept the car, took the cat, asked for a divorce, and told the kids he had died. Just because the car was more important to him than the kids. Frosty, she called him, frosty. Imagine that. Then, the lighthouse spun its light across the horizon, and the chair collapsed under him.

RICHARD

Greatest Hits
The old man drained his drink and looked meaningfully across the table at me.
‘Can’t abide an empty glass” he muttered, “mine’s a pint of bitter’.
I made my way to the bar, ordered, and smiled at the barmaid expertly pulling his pint, she smiled back icily, frost in her eyes.
‘That’ll be four eighty, luv’.
This better be worth it. My music journalism career had hardly been stellar so far. I returned to the table.
‘So, tell me what it was like being a mod, back in the day!’
‘Mod? I was never a mod! Way after my time!’

• Lizzie
• Lisa
• Norval Joe
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Planet Z

The next topic is PICK TWO
Pulling
Frost
Mod
Bitter
An empty glass

LIZZIE

Midnight. Everyone was sleeping. Except for the village ghost. He liked to pretend he was still alive so he wore a top hat. As he walked past one of the houses, he saw two candles burning. Weren’t they all asleep? He wiped the window with his ghostly sleeve and peeked in. Empty. He swayed inside through the wall. Empty. He swayed back outside. Nobody. Suddenly, someone tapped on his shoulder. He shrieked, his top hat hanging on for dear life. Millie, the four-year old, was looking at him, snickering. Yes, this one would keep him busy for years to come.

LISA

Late Start.
Midnight crept silently into the bedroom. Curtains still open. The watchful smile of a nail clipping moon. She didn’t stay long, two followed one, four followed three. Dawn brought a subtle seam of red on morning’s skirt.
Still they both slumbered.
Cow heavy and aching she woke with a start. Relief leaking immediately at his first cries. A shock to hear them here at this hour. Familiar but disorientating; cars on their way to work. Not the still of night; unsettling until realisation hits:
A first night sleeping through.
Needed.
A milestone.
Presaging a better day beginning for them both.

NORVAL JOE

“It’s nearly midnight,” Mandi said, walking out of the kitchen with a hotdog on a plate. She had spilled ketchup down the front of her t-shirt and trying to clean it off, she only smeared it, making a bigger mess.

Billbert jumped when Sabrina looked at Mandi and screamed, “Stop her. She’s going to kill Billbert!”

Mandi jumped as well, the hot dog slipping from her plate.

Billbert grabbed Sabrina’s shoulder. “It’s ketchup, Sabrina. It’s not blood.”

“Oh,” Sabrina panted. She put a hand to her forehead. “I’m going to be sick,” she gasped, and she ran for the bathroom.

SERENDIPIDY

I’ve never figured out why it’s called the Witching Hour.
What self-respecting witch will be out and about at midnight? You can’t go shopping that time of night, and there’s no-one about to frighten and torment.
Late afternoon is when you really want to hit the streets. Ample opportunity to frighten kids on their way home from school, lots of people crossing to the other side of the road to avoid you, and plenty of unsuspecting victims to creep up upon.
And the best thing of all?
Coffee shops are still open after a long afternoon of witchery!

TOM

I went to a Catholic grade school, dam near ended up in the minor seminary; but that would be another story including Pope Leo. In those days one had a severely limited choice of clothing. Green shirt, green tie, black pants. The only optional clothing was a gray sweat-shirt, worn in the cold months. When the boys reached fifth grade we showed are distain for the dress-code by turning the sweat-shirts inside out. We rebels, the Sisters of Mercy were not. They thought they could wear us down. I saw a picture of 2010 eighth grade class inside out forever.

Deal with the devil

So, I’m standing at the cross roads, hunter’s moon above, round about midnight. I figure appear at a distance slowing moving towards me. “Son, you inquired about my services?” said the shadowy figure. I nodded my head. “Well, a contract seems to be in order before we proceed. What you’ll will to be putting up for the gift I would richly can reward.?” I thought for a second then figured what the hell. “My brother Rudy’s soul.” The figure laughed, “You are a dick, but I like your hutzpah, son.” “I want to the greatest Kazoo player who ever lived.”

PLANET Z

Of the black cats I’ve owned, I’ve never named one midnight. I mean, it’s as bad as naming one ironically Whitey. Now, I’ll call my old black cat Missy midnight murder mittens now and then, but it’s not her real name. And she doesn’t respond to it. She barely responds to her own name. She usually responds to good kid or breakfast or lunch. Or shaking the treats. You know that kind of stuff or if I’m petting her and she decides to bite me, she’ll respond to me yelling in pain. By biting more of course. Because cats suck.

• Richard
• Lizzie
• Lisa
• Norval Joe
• Serendipidy
• Planet Z

The next topic is Midnight

RICHARD

Trapped
I was well and truly trapped. She stood between me and the door, with my only escape route into the bedroom, and there was no way I was going in there.
A noise from the front door distracted me, the sound of a key in the lock.
Oh, that’ll be my husband’ she said brightly.
Your husband!’ I exclaimed.
The door opened, and for a brief moment I caught a glimpse, from the inside out to freedom.
A large, imposing figure stepped into the doorway. Her husband.
I wished the ground would open and swallow me.
But, no such luck.

LIZZIE

She was afraid. The wind whispered the arrival of a storm. He sat next to her, looking pleased with himself. The more she tried to disappear in a corner, the happier he looked, and the worse the storm became. She started crying, and so did the rain. It’ll be good for your flowers, he said. The flowers he would place on her grave, she thought. She was very afraid… The next morning, the flowers were all dead. He couldn’t understand it. When she fled, she took with her one pot with a sunflower. She wasn’t afraid anymore. The sunflower bloomed.

LISA

The Interview
I’d felt confident as I spoke. Had all the right answers, backed up with examples from previous employment. I knew I’d aced the test: I’d done that many online trials I was getting a hundred percent every time.
SO, I left the offices with a spring in my step. And it was a job I wanted, would use all my skills and the pay was decent.
I went home via the shopping centre, saw my reflection in it’s huge windows: smart from the front but something was flapping on my back, a label.
I’d got my jumper on inside out.

NORVAL JOE

Sabrina continued, “Now, I can’t stop my thoughts. I want to turn my head inside out and dump the horrific images on the floor and sweep them out the front door.”

Dumbfounded, Billbert stood, gawping at Sabrina.

Mrs. Weinerheimer sat next to Sabrina and put an arm around her shoulder. “If you tell us, it might help.”

With large gaps, she said, “I see Billbert and her.” “They’re, you know, hugging, and stuff.” “Then she has a knife and she’s stabbing.” “Stabbing Billbert.” “And she stands up, blood covering her naked body.”

Billbert gasped. “Who’s blood? Does she kill me?”

SERENDIPIDY

I’ve always had a fascination for what makes things go.
As a child, I was always getting into trouble for taking things apart, dismantling them to see their inner workings.
Whatever I could lay my hands on inevitably met the same fate – childhood toys, an alarm clock, my first transistor radio, anything mechanical or electrical really; I had an insatiable curiosity which survived into adulthood.
It’s not just inanimate objects though that fascinate me.
And, if anything, biology is even more interesting when viewed from the inside out.
Unfortunately, bodies don’t go back together quite as easily as mechanical things!

PLANET Z

The programming language Pascal is named after Blaise Pascal the mathematician, and python is named after Monty Python, the comedy troupe, but did you know that Fort Tran was named after Francis Fortran, a star basketball player in the early 1940s. He didn’t shoot much and he wasn’t good at blocking or steals, but man, the dude could pass. They called him Francis of Assisti. after his playing days, he finished his physics degree, and got into computing. A classmate of his decided to name the programming language after him to keep Francis from reporting on him cheating on exams.

• Richard
• Lizzie
• Lisa
• Norval Joe
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Planet Z

The next topic is Inside Out

RICHARD

Braiiinnnssss!
My other half has an enthusiastic, but hopelessly uninformed personality.
Recently, she’s developed an obsession with horror stories.
‘I’ve just read a book about zombies’, she said. ‘Did you know you have to kill them with a stake through the heart?’
‘That’ll be vampires’, I replied patiently.
‘And they sparkle in sunlight too’
‘Again, vampires. Although not any self-respecting ones.’
She gave me a sour look.
‘And, people turn into them on a full moon!’
‘Err… Werewolves, sweetheart. Look, zombies are the ones that want to eat your brains.
But, I don’t think you have anything to worry about!’

LIZZIE

The house featured on the brochure promised a supernatural experience. So they bought the full pack. A week of no sleep, little food, and malevolent ghosts. The first couple of days were quiet. A few whispers. A bit of woooooooo and a biting grrrrraaaaaaah. Not a ghost in sight, though. As the days dragged on, so did the wooooos and the grrraahs. It was annoying. The full pack had cost a fortune, plus they were hungry. As soon as they opened the door to leave, a horde of zombies stormed in. So the house did get its ghosts after all.

LISA

Crowds Gather on Threadneedle Street
At midnight on Halloween all the money from every UK bank account made its way to an account under the name Z. Ombie. The fallout was, as you’d expect, incredible. Sam, 8 from Wales was responsible, with a little help from an AI chatbot.
Looting started about 2am. Realisation for many didn’t dawn until it was time to go to work and there was no public transport.
The public were urged not to panic. The army was called in. The public panicked. They panicked hard.
Facebook could hardly cope with all the speculation but Sam, Sam never told a soul.

NORVAL JOE

Sabrina stumbled into the house and turned into the living room. She dropped down onto the couch and stared at the wall like a zombie. Billbert and his mother followed her while Mandi disappeared into the kitchen to find something to eat.

Sabrina suddenly burst from her trance and buried her face in her hands, crying, “I keep going back to that basement in my mind. I’m back in the sensory reduction suit where all I have are my thoughts. I have horrible thoughts of my grandmother dying, and, of others dying.”

Sabrina sobbed, gasping, “I can’t stop my thoughts.”

SERENDIPIDY

I wanted to grow up to be a zombie.
Being one of the undead, shambling around the streets with lifeless eyes, hunting down the innocent to feast on their brains appealed.
I have a well-honed survival instinct, and if there was going to be an apocalypse, I’d rather be on the aggressor’s side, than one of the fleeing masses.
I haven’t managed to achieve my ambition yet, but I’m almost there.
I demonstrably look and feel like one of the undead, with lifeless eyes and shuffling gait.
I’m a government employee.
Just need to acquire a taste for brains.

TOM

Pretty Lame

Question: Would 100,000 men-of-arms take out 10 million zombies? Well, YouTube has dozens of these simulations. It’s quite addictive, but calming effect. Of course, if a was watch a wave of teeth rounding a 60-foot hill of the semi-dead, up close and personal, I would totally lose my shit. Which bring us to an important query: What is the rate of speed of the classic zombie? And can they climb over each other? How about that walking underwater thing? Given enough time could they develop flight? Only reason I ask is there in world class knocking on the front door.

PLANET Z

Nobody signed Mary Peterson’s yearbook. She wasn’t in any clubs. She didn’t say anything in any class. She didn’t have any friends. She dressed plainly, and looked plain, didn’t stand out at all. Disappeared into a crowd. She wasn’t out for any sports. She sat alone on the bus. Never dated. Didn’t go to any dances or games. She just came to school went to every class turned in her work, shook her head when she was called on, and went back home. I don’t know what grades she got. She’s never been to the reunions. And nobody ever asks.

• Richard
• Lizzie
• Lisa
• Norval Joe
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Planet Z

The next topic is Zombie

LISA

A Tale as Old as Time
Tonight was Deborah’s creative writing class, her husband, Dave, called it freak show night but it was her night to be her. She enjoyed crafting new worlds at her evening class.
The lesson that week was ‘a letter that you’ll never send’; a chance to be open and honest with no fear of recrimination.
She wrote to Dave. The message was clear. Exactly how she felt. Others dropped their letters in the bin, filed them for reference. Debs bought a stamp, posted hers to him and checked in to a hotel while she looked for a new place to live.

LIZZIE

Poetry, a freakshow in the making. Add a postage stamp, someone yelled. He continued. Something about his pancreas. She felt sleepy. He spoke louder. She stood, right there, in the front row, but she felt sleepy. She must’ve fallen asleep standing, because when she opened her eyes, the room was empty. The stage was empty. Where’s the freakshow? Where is he and his pancreas? As she started toward the door, a piece of paper fluttered to her. It said “Violets are red, roses are blue, my pancreas will burst, and so will you.” It must be love then. She smiled.

RICHARD

Getaway
I’ll be honest, my getaway plan was severely lacking in detail.
So lacking, you could easily have written it out in full on the back of a postage stamp in thick magic marker.
It was basically, one single word: ‘Run!’
But, that was more easily said than done. I mumbled I needed the bathroom, with any luck it would have a window I could crawl through to freedom.
On the way, I peeked into the bedroom, and immediately wished I hadn’t!
‘What is this freakshow?’ I murmured to myself.
‘You’ll find out, soon enough’, came her voice over my shoulder.

SERENDIPIDY

Poetry in motion.
With a single, fluid sweep, my knife cut deep, slicing through his stomach and pancreas, with a slick, smooth follow through, up behind the rib cage, cutting deeply into his left lung.
Theatrically, I swung myself in a wide arc away from his body, withdrawing the knife and flicking a spatter of blood across the wall and ceiling.
It was beautiful, almost balletic in execution.
Slowly, and dramatically he slumped to the floor, life ebbing away.
He’d been my high school drama teacher.
I crouched and whispered in his ear…
“Not a clumsy kid any more, right?”

TOM

Too Much Time On My Hands

If silence is gold; noise is lead. Splitting the difference a gentle hum of reality is copper. Should every level of sound have a corresponding metal? Can there be negative sound sucked out of your brain stem. You most likely need a mess of dark matter for that. Manufacturing dark-metals would be process intensive, cost a lot gold coin to do. And you bet it would be hecka louder than a data center. Which sure would be the opposite of silence, which does meet metaphoric standards. Will infinite silence collapse to a negative waveform in the present of dark matter?

1066

It was a total freak-show. First, we are fighting the god dam north men. Slog-fest. Then we got march across the whole fucken island to kick Norman ass. We are all dead tired but we put up a good fight. Then this stupid hunk of wood kills the king. The stuff of poetry, I’d say. Bet they will be singing about for the next 1000s years. Pain in the Pancreas if you ask me. When I get home my misses is going to be major piss-off. Never got over that roman leaving town thing. What next the house of orange?

NORVAL JOE

A large manila envelope waited for them on the stone porch of the Weinerheimer home.

No post mark identified the origin of the letter and a postage stamp with Cyrillic writing made it even more mysterious.

Inside, they found a small book of poetry, five tickets to the Sonoma Raceway, and a note.

The note simply read, “Read the book and meet me at the race.”

“That’s perfect,” Billbert said. “Mom. You and Dad can drive the three of us to the race next weekend.”

Sabrina wiped the tears from her eyes. “I thought we were taking Bobbi, not Mandi?”

PLANET Z

Every few years, there was a new variety of pepper that the news would call the world‘s hottest. It would have some crazy name and hot sauce makers would ship out bottles with skull and crossbones or flames or other crazy labels. Are they put warning labels on them with tongue and cheek advisories. Joe never fell for that trend. He liked a little bit of a kick, but he was into flavor, not pain. What was the sense of eating chicken wings if you couldn’t enjoy them? The waitress whose hits you’re staring at, isn’t impressed at all, bro.

• Richard
• Lizzie
• Lisa
• Norval Joe
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Planet Z

The next topic is Silence

RICHARD

What’s in a name?
The food was rather good. I was glad I’d splashed out on decent wine.
Sitting back in her chair, she gave me a quizzical look.
‘Go on then, I’m up for a laugh. Tell me your porn star name.’
This was awkward. I’d only posed as a porn star for a joke, I blurted out the first name that came to mind… ‘Erm, my name is Ivor Biggun!’
She laughed.
‘That’s not how it’s done, you can do better than that.’
I must have looked confused.
‘It’s your first pet’s name and your favourite band!’
‘Ah, ok. It’s… Fluffy Butthole!’

LIZZIE

“My name is… She stopped talking and started clicking. Everyone stared. For a full minute, she just clicked.”
“Wait. You have literally lifted this from that film.”
“No, I wrote this.”
“You didn’t. It’s from that alien film.”
“Ah, aliens. Right. In my story, there are no aliens. Something malfunctions in her brain and she stops using words.”
“Forever?”
“Yes!”
“Forever…?!”
“Well, I’m not sure. I’m not that far into the story. I was thinking something neurological.”
“Ah, ok. My name is… Mrs. ClickClick.”
“Funny…”
“Get a better story. And don’t lift any idea from a film again.”
“I didn’t!”

LISA

A Tricky Question for a Tuesday
The rain tapped at the open window. The wall clock ticked away the hours. The scent of petunias drifted into the Drs office; white, austere. Posters shouted the dangers of smoking, missing vaccinations and too much sugar. An ordinary Thursday.
Holly pondered the question a little longer, inhaled, then began,
“My name is…”
A roll of distant thunder and a darkening sky.
“My name is…”
Daughter, Alice, squeezed her hand and let slip an uncomfortable smile.
A flash. Bright and shocking. Lightning followed swiftly by a deep boom of thunder.
Holly tried again, “My name is…” a big smile, “Rumplestiltskin?”

SERENDIPIDY

My name is immaterial.
It is unimportant and of no consequence.
I’ve always held the opinion that actions speak louder than words, so if I’m going to be known for anything it will be what I do, rather than the name I go by, that matters.
Still, one has to stand out from the crowd; to be uniquely identifiable.
So, although my name is unknown, my signature is no secret:
A playing card – the three of clubs – folded in half, and placed in the mouth of my victim.
What it means matters not.
It is my signature.
Who I am.

NORVAL JOE

At the car, Sabrina wiped the tears from her eyes, sniffed, and held a hand toward Linoliamanda. “Give me my backpack, Lindymindy.”

Her face flushed. “My name is Mandi. You know that, and I wish you wouldn’t be so rude to me.”

Though Mandi held the backpack to her, Sabrina snatched it away and slung it over her shoulder. “We have more important things to worry about than your tender feelings.”

Sabrina climbed into the backseat of the Weinerheimer car without another word.

The other three paused, stunned by Sabrina’s behavior before they all got into the car as well.

TOM

Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends

My name is Timmy. That bastard Tom has been killing me off story after story for 20 years. I was Kenny before Kenny was a thing. The only one having more grief here at the challenge was the midget At least he got to retire to Florida. It’s been trying, but I think I can wait him out. Not getting any younger there. Five years tops. Dear SERENDIPITY hows-bout we do a bit of ghost writing? Catch my drift? Man is a heavy sleeper. Just saying. So, what happens to me this week? Juggling flaming chainsaws on a unicycle. Great.

PLANET Z

All of the gods of all time gathered. So many pantheons. So many planets, galaxies, and dimensions. So many eras and civilizations. All powerful, all knowing, all loving. Loki of the Norwegian gods put out a massive table of my name is stickers, but nobody needed them. Even the most obscure patron of methane from a far distant gas giant was known to all. Gods tended to stand with their Ra and not their common domains. Thor stood with the Norwegians, raw stood with the Egyptians. Yahweh stood alone, sipping his wine. The gathering adjourned, and everyone went back home.

• Richard
• Lisa
• Lizzie
• Tom
• Serendipidy
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

The next topic is My name is…

RICHARD

Frostbitten
I told you about that time I unwittingly told my future boss I was a porn star, right?
It wasn’t exactly career suicide, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t do me any favours either.
On her first day as my manager, I was called into her office and she gave me a look so cold it could cause frostbite.
‘I hope you don’t intend bringing any of your questionable immoral behaviours into this office, while I’m in charge’ she said sternly.
I assured her I wouldn’t.
‘Good. You can save them for after work. My place, tonight. Bring wine!’

LISA

The Man in the Library
An old gentleman, he’s in daily but doesn’t speak to anyone. He has no interest in the books or the papers. He wears a suit, an old suit that has an almost iridescent sheen through age. There’s a thin pin stripe to it; possibly faded.
His skin is beyond pale, a white almost grey transparent covering. If he wasn’t walking around you’d assume it the ashen skin of a dead man.
He sits and watches everything. Rises.
Shakes the librarian’s hand.
Leaves.
Regardless of the weather outside, his touch is always cold. In winter that handshake practically gives you frostbite.

SERENDIPIDY

Back in the days when I had a proper job, health and safety wasn’t quite as it is now.
I worked in a meat processing factory and one of my co-workers really had it in for me.
We had one of those big walk-in freezers, but back then, they didn’t have safety locks. He shoved me inside and locked the door.
Thankfully, I was found soon after, but not before I’d lost three fingers to frostbite.
Years later, I got my own back, in my own special way.
His body’s downstairs now, in my chest freezer.
A fitting end!

LIZZIE

When words stumble through the page in a wave of sorrow, tears morn a future unlived. When a smile brings a tightness to the heart, one pauses just to breathe, a foggy gaze peering through, an overwhelming sadness stifling one’s fears. Numbness creeps through the cracks of one’s soul and one swears never to feel this chill again. And yet, it returns. Word after word. Tear after tear, the pages pacing relentlessly, gnawing at what remains…

“What? I thought it’d be a children’s story this time,” said Mouse. “The darn book shifted again… This online sorcery course is total nonsense.”

NORVAL JOE

Joan Weinerheimer put her arm around Sabrina. “Don’t cry, dear. We’ll get your things and get out of here quickly.”

They made their way to the stairs to the basement. The more they progressed, the colder it got in the house.

Billbert shivered. “We need to hurry or we’ll all get frostbite.”

In the basement, frost clung to the window and exposed metal pipes.

Sabrina’s backpack and unopened suitcase sat on the floor, next to the ropes previously used to restrain her.

“Grab her things,” Billbert’s mother said. “We need to get out. I think this house has been cursed.”

TOM

Red Christmas

The old witch on Maple Street rolled up a snowman on her lawn. The kids creeped up to the grinning coal eyed horror. “Closer, my pretty-s,” rasped the snowman,” I’m frosty. Want to have some fun?” Timmy the bravest and stupidest of us grabbed the carrot nose. Being the little monsters, we were, we moved in close to mock Frosty. The snowman wrapped Tim with his twiggy arms, took a bit out of his neck. In quick order we were all bleeding of Frostbit. As Timmy’s eye turn from blue to white, Frosty suggested we head down to the mall.

PLANET Z

The road leading to Ray Kinsella‘s farm was packed with cars. They didn’t know why they were driving there. After all, Ray was the jackass who had plowed up his field to build a baseball park. They parked wherever they could park, here were only a few small bleachers, no concessions, no restrooms. Some lined up to use the bathroom in the house while others just went out into the field to piss. Those who returned came back smiling, calm, as if they’ve seen something glorious. Others never returned. The next day, they blamed it all on a gas leak.

• Richard
• Lizzie
• Tom
• Serendipidy
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

The next topic is Frostbite

RICHARD

Ice-Breaker
It was one of those awful management development courses. You know the sort: A day stuck with a bunch of strangers, none of whom want to be there, spending the time in meaningless discussion and sticking Post-it notes to flipcharts.
We started with the inevitable, predictable, ice-breaker. ‘Tell the person next to you something surprising about yourself’.
Well, challenge accepted!
Nobody said it had to be true, right?
I told the stunning blonde at my side I was a porn star.
Her response was equally surprising…
‘I’m starting a new job next week. At your company. As your boss!’

LIZZIE

He was a porn star. Was. You can’t do anything else, someone said. Challenge accepted. He looked around for acting roles. Failed. He worked as a delivery man. Why aren’t you in acting? Failed. More acting roles. Failed. Performing had never been an issue before, he thought. The local hotel had a job. Yes. During the break, sitting in front of the hotel’s fireplace one day, he overheard someone say uh, it’s that guy. At least someone remembered him. It’s that guy who dropped my dinner, and apologized in a very unusual way. Where’s a camera when we need one?

TOM

Neo-Classic

Borderline Stairwell is the most misunderstood novel of the early 2000s. It’s florid shifting of time-frame. The binary language of the people of the grass. A hero will no redeeming qualities. The laughable use of flip-book art at the bottom of each page. And its length, 2017 pages. The only novel to get -5 stars from the village voice. So why it so popular nearly 25 years after publication. Why are whole passage quoted by Alpha units. My best guess is: it pisses off all four generation before them. Such embraced derision is a badge of honor. Point, Game, Match.

SERENDIPIDY

Borderline psychopathic: That was the diagnosis at age twelve, when I threw my sister down a stairwell at school.
I thought they were over-reacting. I simply wanted to see if she bounced. I was just having fun and exploring my boundaries.
Isn’t that what kids do?
Isn’t that what school is for?
Judging by the reaction, I guess not.
I’m all better now.
I’ve been taking my tablets and following the rules, and now I’m a perfectly well-adjusted, fully-functioning, productive member of society.
I can tell you don’t believe me.
Which is probably a good thing, right?

NORVAL JOE

Driving back to Billbert’s house, Sabrina said, “All my stuff is still at Patrick’s. How are we going to get it?”

Mrs. Weinerheimer considered for a moment. “We can check if they left a door open. If not, we’ll have to find another way.”

“Challenge accepted,” Billbert said, rubbing his hands together. “They probably left an upstairs window unlocked.”

Billbert’s mother, Sabrina, and Mandi waited on the front porch while Billbert flew up to a back bedroom window, then flew down the stairwell to unlock the door.

It felt evil inside the dark and empty house.

Sabrina began to cry.

PLANET Z

Gary didn’t have a basement or a storm cellar. When he heard the tornado siren, he calmly walked to the central bath, got in the tub, and waited. He set his phone to play the local weather alerts, sitting in the tub and waiting for the big storm to pass. The rain pounded on the roof, and the winds shook the trees in the yard. Sometimes, the neighbors’ patio furniture slammed hard against the wall. When the storm died down, the all clear was given, Gary turned off the weather alert station and got out of the tub, and yawned