Category: Weekly Challenge

Weekly Challenge #1064 – My name is…

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.

Weekly Challenge #1063- Frostbite

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.

Weekly Challenge #1062 – PICK TWO Borderline Stairwell Hood Challenge accepted Porn star

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

Weekly Challenge #1060 – Omnibus

The next topic is Fringe

LIZZIE

The omnibus edition included three of eight books. The release would take place in a week. However, the printing took longer than expected. The printer kept having to reprint everything. Odd pages would appear. After a few attempts, the editor decided to just print it and see what happened. We’ll say it’s a special remixed edition, he said. Right before the release, the editor leafed through the book. There was nothing wrong. And then he noticed it. There were not three but four books included, all in perfect order. Sometimes, we just have to let magic happen on its own.

RICHARD

Bus Stop
Omnibus… an old-fashioned word, yet so descriptive. A versatile prefix instantly saying everything to know about the object it describes.
An omnidirectional microphone, the sort that can pick up sound from any direction. An omnipresent being, depending on your deity of choice, is a presence that is everywhere around us, (yes, even in the bedroom, where you get up to ‘things’.
And let’s endow our deity with omnipotence, just to round things off nicely.
Have you noticed though how we’ve stopped using omnibus, and now just use ‘bus’?
Because they don’t go any bloody where you need them to!

TOM

The Chevrolet 2037 Omnibus

See the USA in your Chevrolet America’s asking you to call Drive your Chevrolet through the USA America’s the greatest land of all On a highway or a road along a levee Performance is sweeter, nothing can beat her Life is completer in a Chevy So, make a date today to see the USA And see it in your Chevrolet Travelin’ east, travelin’ west Wherever you go Chevy service is best Southward or north, near place or far There’s a Chevrolet dealer for your Chevrolet car See the USA in your Chevrolet. Chevrolet Omnibus seats 160 luxury on gravedigger’s wage.

SERENDIPIDY

My parents were avid readers of horror stories, but they didn’t really have much class.
Rather than spend good money on decent book collections, they’d buy those big, thick omnibus volumes of dubious horror. Unknown authors writing bargain basement trash; but my parents were of the quantity over quality school, and the thicker the collection, the better, in their minds.
I read them all, of course, and I knew right from the start, I could do so much better myself.
But, to write decent horror, one has to undertake copious research.
After all, they do say to write from experience.

NORVAL JOE

When the social worker arrived they all sat in the living room as Sabrina told her story.

The woman closed one eye skeptically. “You’re telling me that this boy’s parents kidnapped you to create a tsunami to wipe out a coven of witches, and then they were carried away in a tornado?”

“No,” Sabrina said. “Only his father was.”

“Well, that makes it all better,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “Let me add that to my omnibus of pitiful excuses. I’ll have to take Sabrina and find a more appropriate placement for her.”

“Please,” Billbert’s mother said. “Wait one moment.”

PLANET Z

The route to my grade school went along a road with a lot of construction. And they were frequent potholes and carve outs in the narrow lanes. Our usual bus driver navigated these rather skillfully. Never driving too fast. However, when they took a day off, the substitute driver was reckless. thankfully, We made it along the rough road easily, but when we turned into a residential area, he hit the speed bumps pretty hard. The kids in the far back were thrown against the ceiling. One broke his neck and died. And I didn’t get home until after dark.

Weekly Challenge #1059 – Pulse

The next topic is Omnibus

RICHARD

Blinding
I could feel it coming on.
The odd, light-headedness; the feeling I was observing myself from the outside, and the voices around me, as if from a distance, ‘Are you ok?’
I was clammy, sweating, struggling to keep my balance.
Then the pulse of swirling colours, creating wild and crazy patterns in my vision.
I blacked out.
When I came to, it was to a blinding, incapacitating headache. I groaned, and all I wanted to do was sleep.
You know what? If only you could have migraines without the pain, they’d be way more fun than drugs.
Cheaper too!

LISA

Loot or Die
It was hot that summer. No one slept. Bins didn’t get emptied. A simmering anger spread through the metropolis quicker than the fires that broke out at its outskirts. The mayor rationed access to utilities. Flames devouring churches lit the sultry evenings; a pleasing glow through huge intricately shaped windows.
They turned the water off. Soon afterwards, the gas and electricity. All the hospitals were forced to shut.
Prison cells opened. Zoo gates opened. The supermarket’s automatic doors opened and wouldn’t close. The anger built.
The mayor was in hiding.
The city had no pulse.
Then the food ran out.

SERENDIPIDY

No pulse.
I double-check.
Nope, you’re a gonner alright.
I ponder attempting to resuscitate, but I don’t have the energy, or the will.
You’re dead. And that’s the way you’re going to stay.
I’m disappointed. You didn’t put up much of a fight, did you?
Spoilsport.
You were no fun.
It’s not like the good old days, when victims were made of sterner stuff; you could guarantee a good struggle in an effort to stay alive. These days, they just accept their fate.
And I’m happy to deal it out, even if it’s not quite so much fun anymore.

NORVAL JOE

Patrick didn’t look like he was ready to confess anything and eyed the door.

His pulse racing, Billbert dashed to the door and blocked it as Patrick lunged from his chair.

Billbert needn’t have made the effort. Sabrina, nearly half Patrick’s size, tackled him and releasing her pent-up rage, kicked him three times in the crotch.

Billbert’s stomach ached in sympathy as Patrick groaned and writhed on the floor.

Mrs. Weinerheimer held out her hand and Patrick’s silenced as her efficiency helped him to heal himself.

“That’s enough,” she snapped. “Everyone get back to what you’re supposed to be doing.”

TOM

Guns of Christmas

Billy created a pulse gun when he was 13. Well, it was pretty much a magnetic potato gun, but it was a fairly impressive start to a career. His doctoral thesis at MIT was enough to have the North Koreans offer him a billion dollars to build the damn thing. As in all thing North Korean, the west had no idea this was the main military project. They used their ICBM program as a cleave ruse. On Christmas day 2099 battery of pulse gun reduced Seoul to lake of metal. The Chicness cut a deal the next day.

PLANET Z

Chang had a good job. He led an execution van crew. They would roll up to a prison, collect a few inmates, and while driving to the hospital, they would kill them and put them on life support systems to maintain their organs. When they arrived at the hospital, doctors would collect the bodies. Chang never felt guilty for this, if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime. Until Chang was caught posting photos of himself in the van that Amnesty International got a hold of. Two years later, Chang went from a crew leader to a passenger.

Weekly Challenge #1057 – PICK TWO Speeches Discard Mine An empty cup Kitchen

The next topic is Roger

RICHARD

Noir
An empty cup sits on the table in front of me, drained of coffee.
Like my soul, its contents had been cold, dark, and bitter. It left a bad taste in my mouth.
I rose from the cheap plastic chair, grabbing the cup to discard carelessly in the trash can. Again, the act mirrors my state of mind.
Outside, the cold is biting, the wind harsh, and the steady rain soaks through my coat. Above, a streetlight flickers.
I fumble for a cigarette, and inhale deeply; somewhere in the distance, a saxophone plays.
I walk slowly away, into the darkness.

SERENDIPIDY

No speeches, no reception, no wedding breakfast, no party. No church either, just a farmhouse kitchen.
And no, there weren’t any guests, just two witnesses, as required by law, and the local minister who’d been paid handsomely for his time.
The father of the bride was in attendance, but no tux for him, neither was his daughter attired in silk and lace.
What there were in abundance were shotguns.
Both witnesses and the bride’s father held them ready, locked and loaded. Just in case.
The minister turned my way, asking the question.
“I do”, I answered.
I could hardly refuse!

TOM

Glass half empty

Timmy was a motivational speaker. The corporate hire to blunt the shock of firing, oh so happily. Cuss management is chicken shit. Timmy had a number of standard speeches. His favorite was: The empty cup speech. He poured water in to ceramic. “At this moment in your life make a choice on how the see the cup.” Said Timmy placing the cup in front of Susan from accounting. “I see a glass half broken,” said the 60-year-old woman. Timmy in cloud of confusion gave the room, a corporate smile, that was went Sue picked up, broke it on his head

NORVAL JOE

When Patrick sat, Billbert’s mother said, “Listen. Now is not the time for speeches. CPS is coming in three hours, and we still have the kitchen to clean up, and the front yard.”

Patrick shifted as if getting up to leave.

“No, Patrick,” she said. “I need you here to answer their questions, to make it clear that Sabrina was treated terribly in her Foster Care placement.”

Patrick folded his arms. “That’s going to get me in trouble, too.”

She nodded. “That may be, and you certainly deserve what you get. But I can help things go smoothly for you.”

PLANET Z

I was watching a documentary and found it strange that the presenter was referring to an American aircraft carrier with the pronoun She, yet all of those aircraft carriers are named after men.. It’s long-standing naval tradition to refer to boats with female pronouns. However, the Department of war directives say that chips should be referred to with the neutral pronoun it. this is not to dismiss or integrate the gender claims of the historical figures. These ships are named after. I mean, do we really know what happened behind closed doors with Abraham Lincoln and his wife’s clothes?

Weekly Challenge #1056 – Beginning

The next topic is PICK TWO
Speeches
Discard
Mine
An empty cup
Kitchen

RICHARD

The Word
In the beginning, was the word.
And that word was ‘in’.
It’s right there, at the opening to this piece.
A simple, unassuming word. Just two letters; nothing special about it.
Other than the fact it conveys that sense of place, of presence, of the here and now… even way back when.
It’s not ‘at’ the beginning, ‘on’ the beginning, or even ‘around’ the beginning.
You’re in the moment, partaking of it, at one with it. An intrinsic part of that very point where nothing becomes something, and the intangible becomes reality.
Not bad for a simple two-letter word.

SERENDIPIDY

The detective was one of those ‘no nonsense’ types. Methodical, organised and rather intolerant.
“Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? Where were you at the time of the murder?”
He knew, as well as I, exactly where I was, but as far as I was concerned it wasn’t my job to tell him, it was up to him to work it out and build a cast iron case.
My job was simply to come up with an alibi, and in doing so, I would ruin all his hard work.
Still, that’s what he was paid for.
More fool him.

LIZZIE

Many years later, he went back up the hill. The tire swings were still there. He swayed his legs back and forth as they had done. Why did it have to happen? Why? The cold night embraced him, cuddling him in its arms. He started to cry. Why can’t I go back and undo everything? In the distance, he heard a train. Their train. The train that would take them away one day. The train that had killed her… At sunrise, he dried his tears and finally summoned the courage to take the train. For you. For us, he shouted.

TOM

Sugar Babies

In the beginning there was sugar. Lots of sugar. River, Mountains, a great desert of sugar. The people put sugar in all the foods they ate. God sat back figure if everyone was happy, he would just go an holiday. While god come up with real cool stuff, like sugar. I would take the blackest heart of the monkey people to come up with Multi Global Corporations. It took sometime but, in the end, they controlled all the sugar on the planet. Life became sad. When god back for holiday he saw how unhappy everyone was so he invented chipotle.

NORVAL JOE

With the light of understanding beginning to shine in Patrick’s eyes, he glanced at the door.

Mandi, who’s perception was greater than what Sabrina gave her credit for, shouted, “Billbert. Stop him.”

He couldn’t disobey and lunged for Patrick as he dashed for the door. Though the boy was twice Billbert’s size, the strength of Mandi’s ring more than compensated and the two tumbled to the floor.

“Thanks Mandi. I’ll take it from here,” Mrs. Weinerheimer said, and turned to Patrick. “Have a seat, dear. We need to talk.”

Patrick got up, brushed himself off, and obediently sat down.

PLANET Z

Randy was a pretty strange guy. Long greasy hair and backwards, baseball cap. Tall man, making biscuits at the chicken shack. He’d start every batch with quoting the Bible in the beginning. But it go in strange directions with his narrative as he mixed in the buttermilk and needed the dough, rolled it out, cut out the biscuits and put them on the tray and slid them in the oven. He’d speak of dark shadows and strange tentacles from space and weird ceremonies to summon them to ravage the planet. But goddamn, his biscuits were the best I’ve ever tasted.

Weekly Challenge #1054 – Pathetic

Sorry it was a day late.

The next topic is Dirty

RICHARD

Written off
I’m in a writers’ group.
There must be nearly thirty of us in all, and everyone, with the exception of me, has aspirations.
Some are working on their first novel, and several of the group are already published authors; some are even making a living from writing full-time. We even have one who had a best-seller with a national bookstore chain.
Not me.
I started my novel over thirty years ago, and I still haven’t got beyond chapter three.
So, I’ll just stick to a hundred words, I can just about manage that every week.
Pathetic, isn’t it?

SERENDIPIDY

You’re a pathetic little worm who doesn’t even merit being recognised as a human being.
A loser and a basket case, who will never succeed in anything they do and will leave nothing as a legacy when their miserable life comes to an unwholesome and untimely end.
You’re hopeless: doomed to perpetual failure, and when you’re gone, nobody will care, or mourn your loss.
Why bother trying? You may as well give up right now and accept your fate. You will always be pathetic.
That was my school report at age fifteen.
No wonder I turned out like I did!

LIZZIE

Pathetic. The word reverberated in her mind. The beach house was nearly empty now. He moved on and got offended when she found out. He begged for “a second chance”. But she packed up her stuff and walked away. Deal with it. The problem was, he didn’t want his “new life” anymore. “It wasn’t fun”. Get a house, have kids, go to work, come back home. Suddenly, what he had with her was what he had with the other one. Boring. Shame the beach house was one of the casualties. She moved on. It’s nice to be free, she thought.

NORVAL JOE

“Why did you bring her here?” Sabrina asked, curling her lip. “Nobody wants Lindimindi around.”

Mandi’s mouth dropped open in shock.

Billbert frowned, thinking deeply. “I don’t know. I just couldn’t leave her at her mansion, by herself.”

“You’re pathetic.” Sabrina folded her arms and turned away.

No one expected Patrick to speak up. “No. Sabrina. You’re pathetic. I listened to you when you were in our basement. You were delirious from our sensory deprivation experiment. Did you cry for help? For your grandmother? No! You shouted at Billbert that he was too stupid and lazy to come and find you.”

PLANET Z

Ollie was the bane of Olive Garden. Yeah the Guinness book Record for most breadsticks eaten in an hour. I won’t give you the number because that’ll just encourage you. I mean, you could look it up, but that’ll start you on a dangerous road. Ollie ate so many breadsticks, his stomach exploded, and there was nothing they could do for him, and he died. Unlike Leslie, his wife who had the record for most bowls of salad, eaten in under an hour. She went light on the salad dressing, so it was healthier. Unlike her carbohydrate addicted husband was.

Weekly Challenge #1053 – PICK TWO The next topic is PICK TWO Twaddle An owl Stable A tin of beans Crossing

Sorry it was a week late.

The next topic is Pathetic

LISA

Sometimes the End is the Beginning.
They made us wear masks, to make it seem like fun I guess, my partner was an owl; I was Bart Simpson. Sending kids out in pairs to do the dirty work. They told us what to get, nothing fresh. Stuff that would last.
The door was smashed in, the store already well looted, bottled water long gone. I put a tin of beans in my bag for the group and filled my pockets with things for me: matches, some sweets and a bag of tealights.
I was young but old enough to know I may be alone again soon.

LIZZIE

Fix fence, check how stable the tin of beans is, she typed. Stable tin of beans? Where had that come from? She continued typing her To-Do list. She shook her head. Then, she realized she was stuck. She couldn’t think of anything else to add. Tin of beans. Tin of beans. Check. Check, check if stable. She decided to check the cupboard. A tin of beans, check. Stable… Oh. It was cracked open. Something was growing inside. She took a closer look and a voice in her head said “Thank you”. The green spores were the last thing she remembered.

RICHARD

Campshite
An owl hoots in the darkness; the forest closes in, and I don’t mind telling you, I’m starting to question why I’d thought it was such a good idea to try out wild camping in the first place.
I was cold, my clothes were damp, the tent was cramped and the unsettling noises around me were giving me the shivers.
“Relax” I told myself, “if those kids on Youtube can do it, then so can you.”
Maybe some food would help!
I fished out a tin of beans from my pack, then realised I’d forgotten the can-opener.
Home time!

SERENDIPIDY

The patient was stable. No cause for concern, and the prognosis was good, very good. Right now, they’re peacefully sleeping as I busy myself around the room, topping up their water jug, smoothing the sheets and checking their notes.
All is well.
I take the syringe from my pocket and uncap it.
Leaning over the patient, I screw the syringe into their cannula, before pausing to enjoy the moment.
I depress the plunger, injecting air directly into their vein, before retrieving the syringe and gently brushing away a wisp hair from her face.
“You’ll be crossing over soon,” I whisper.

TOM

In the high country

There a rope bridge in the mountains that is the only stable crossing to WinterFell. Not a trip for the faint of heart, they call the winds that whip the bridge: The Hawk. My name Bucky Tou. My grandfather is leading me over the pass, teaching me the ropes. In the mid-bridge he steps to one side and moves behind me. He whispers in my ear. “Go slow. Then go slower.” I shake my head and slip one foot forward, make purchase, then slid he other. I am cold, all I want to do is get out of the wind.

NORVAL JOE

Without having to direct anyone where to start or what to do, they all went about the house, cleaning.

Sabrina expected that with how busy and determined each person was, they would be constantly running into each other. However, they were all stable and consistent, focused on their tasks, and rarely crossing up or interfering with one another.

At midnight, Mrs. Weinerheimer’s phone rang. It was Billbert, wondering where she was. Half an hour later, he knocked at the front door, then let himself in. Sabrina’s blood pressure shot up, and her ears began to ring as Linoliamanda followed Billbert.

PLANET Z

It’s June 21, and nobody can find summertime Sam. He’s the guy who sells pinwheels to kids at the beach. He says he donates all the money to charity, but he’s never said which charity. Something he steals the pinwheels to sell. But no one around here sells pinwheels besides summertime Sam. We asked the mailman if he delivers boxes of pinwheels and he says I don’t even know where summertime Sam lives. Nobody does. We all grew up with summertime Sam pinwheels but nobody knows anything about him. Maybe it’s a good thing that nobody has seen him yet

Weekly Challenge #1052 – Gemstone

The next topic is PICK TWO
Twaddle
An owl
Stable
A tin of beans
Crossing

RICHARD

Price tag

It’s not often the Antiques Roadshow comes to town, so when we heard they’d be recording locally, we had to go along.
The question was, what we were going to take to be appraised.
Certainly not the ‘Dogs playing poker’ print – a cultural icon maybe, but hardly an antique.
There was little of interest in the china cabinet; just chipped and mismatched plates and cups.
Then granny turned up with her jewellery box and produced a huge, antique gemstone in a gold setting.
What did the experts say it was worth?
You’ll have to watch the programme to find out!

LIZZIE

The art installation Gemstone featured a naked mannequin with a television for a head, holding a megaphone. Its right arm was missing. Find meaning mode activated. Broadcasting television slogans while the body suffers the pain. Pleased with his interpretation, he approached the artist and shared his view. The artist looked at him, puzzled. He nodded, trying to prompt the artist to say something. The artist said “No, we got the mannequin on sale. They had lost the head and an arm, so they gave us an old tv and a megaphone.” Gemstone?! They should’ve named it Lacking a Gemstone, then.

LISA

Finders Keepers

Derek’s dream had led him to a secluded glade. He’d had a vision of a buried chest full of jewellery there: gold pendants and rings with precious gemstones.
The ground looked quite disturbed but it was a popular spot for youths to drink and besides his dreams were never wrong. Unperturbed, Derek started sweeping the ground with his metal detector.
On the way home, empty handed and despondent, he listened to the radio. An exciting local news story interrupted the broadcast: that evening a gang of teenagers had found treasure worth millions in the very spot he’d just been searching.

TOM

A bridge too far

It was called Project Gemstone. Personally, I thought it was a dumb code-name, but I didn’t get to make the call. It is pretty random, so others in the Alphabet black ops community don’t all get the cool ones. It equally pisses off everyone, like when D.S.T. got Robot Chicken. Gemstone dealt with the thorny issues of college students. Students of history known university students are the engine of revolution. Having eyeball on even the least likely camp was the goal of Gemstone. This was how I became a spook and ended up in Hanoi carrying paperwork for the Professor.

SERENDIPIDY

My engagement ring features a black gemstone. It’s not a diamond or sapphire, a spinel or tourmaline.
It’s not even precious in the conventional sense: it’s just plain old glass crystal.
In point of fact, if you look closely, it’s not even black. It’s actually deepest, darkest red.
The colour comes from an inclusion: real human blood, injected into the stone and sealed there forever.
The blood is that of my first husband.
A reminder that he will never bother me again.
Also, a very visible warning to my future husband, that there are some lines you just don’t cross.

NORVAL JOE

Patrick and Bobbi’s friend, Candy, joined the others in the messy front room.

Sabrina shot hateful glares at her former captor, as Joan explained about CPS coming in the morning.

Bobby looked around the squalid room in panic. “Mom’s on night shift. She won’t be home until seven.”

Joan put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll have the house shining like a diamond by morning.”

“A diamond?” Bobby asked, clearly skeptical.
Joan chuckled, “Well, a semi-precious gemstone, at least.”

Bobbi doubled down. “But how?”

“I have a special talent for organization.” Joan closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

PLANET Z

Harriet’s birthstone was a lump of coal. Nothing ever went right in her life. At the school dance, her classmates tied her up, put her in a circle made of salt, lit candles, and performed ritual rhythmic gyrations, an attempt to summon the dark Lord to take her away. It didn’t work. But the principal tried to blame her for the incident. Her foster parents couldn’t be bothered to show up to the inquiry. Eventually, she graduated and took the first bus out of town. No one knows where she wound up, and she never attends any of the reunions.