Category: Weekly Challenge

Weekly Challenge #939 – Train

The next topic is PICK TWO Still, Officer down, Random Action, One two three…, Pure, You never know

RICHARD

Railway lines

I’m writing this on the train.

It’s a good way to kill the time between departure and arrival, and it’s surprising how even the longest journey can seem to fly by.

Some might prefer to gaze out of the window, snooze or read, I’ve tried them all – had to really, when the job meant travelling for hours on end, most days of the week.

Then we discovered online meetings.

And the travelling stopped.

The writing didn’t, although somehow it seems I never have the time, these days.

So, it’s good to be back on the train.

Getting creative once again.

LIZZIE

Train the mind, train the body. Row, row, row. And that was the deal. Resurface after a downfall. Get up and walk, get up and run. Go, go, go. But he didn’t want to go, go, go. He didn’t want to get up and he definitely didn’t want to resurface.
He didn’t mind the rowing, though. After rowing away for hours, he landed at a beach. Nice. Seagulls in the background. He could get used to this, he thought, until his coach showed up. How…?
“GPS, my son, GPS. Why do you think I gave you that gadgety little watch?”

SERENDIPIDY

I bet they never trained you how to deal with this, did they?
Oh yes, you can kill a man with your bare hands, survive in the wild with no food or shelter, sneak up and overcome an enemy before they even know you’re there.
I know they trained you to resist any kind of torture, giving away nothing but your name, rank and serial number.
And I’m sure you’re very good at it too.
But they never trained you for this.
And it’s going to last the rest of your life.
So just say ‘I do’, and kiss me!

LISA

Welcome

“So, Welcome to Newton Manor.”

He pauses, smiles.

“There’s a train station nearby- it’s unused. The ticket office is in our grounds. When the house was built our ancestors had the village moved. The quickest escape would be to walk down the path following the old tracks. That said, I’m happy to drop you in town if any of you want to leave.

This is my brother, and since our parents died, we live here alone. It was nothing sinister, old age, but it has left us financially secure and potentially in a position to create something very special here.”

TOM

Penny a Point

I grew up a mile and half from the City of New Orleans tracks. On very still nights could hear it moving down the tracks. One of the joys of being a kid was taking rapped interest in semi-destructive acts. Take flattening copper pennies on train tracks. Not as easy as one would think. The speed and weight of the train play crucial factors in perfectly squashed coins. Also, age. Secondly even if you found the best location of the rails finding the pennies was another matter. Multiple squashes ruined the aesthetic. I have no idea where those pennies went

855

When Stripes Ruled

The United Mime Workers Union a was seriously bad ass union. Gave the Teamsters a hard run for the honors. You had to be hecka strong to free yourself from an unseen glass box. Find your way around imaginary invisible walls. They never loss an invisible tug of war. Never ones to be lifted into heaven by non-existent balloons. Go toe to toe with a man who could lift an impossibly heavy bag try that after 15 beers. Sadly, the Mime Works Union isn’t what it uses to be. Striking using imaginary lead pipe just does not cut it.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert and his parents walked to their car in silence.
He wondered what Sabrina was going to do now that her only relative was dead. Could she live by herself in Buhmilda’s meadow?
Once inside the car, Billbert’s father broke into his train of thoughts, and asked, “Are you going to tell us what happened, son?”
“Sorry, Dad,” he said, swallowed a lump in his throat, and went over the entire story.
“I want to see Sabrina in the hospital,” Billbert said when he was done.
His mother grimaced. “Not yet. You need to give her a chance to rest.”

PLANET Z

We tied the principal to the train tracks.
Then, we went to the all-night Taco Bell.
Over nacho supremes, we laughed and challenged each other to suck down one hot sauce packet after another.
We painted the parking lot with our vomit and stumbled back to the tracks.
The whole area was swarming with twisted metal and men in hazmat suits.
A train pulling chemical tankers had derailed.
“They’ve been exposed,” said a sheriff in a gas mask, pointing at the vomit on our shirts.
We were stripped, hosed down, had blood taken and tested, and kept for observation overnight.

CHATGPT

In the hushed symphony of wheels on tracks, Sarah found solace. Each rhythmic clack echoed her journey, stitching together fragments of her life. From the misty morning platform to the dusk-kissed horizon, the train became her vessel of transformation. Through frosted windows, she watched landscapes blur, mirroring the fleeting moments of her existence. Strangers became companions in this transient world, sharing tales untold. Yet, as stations passed like chapters turned, Sarah realized the true journey wasn’t measured in miles, but in the evolution of her spirit. And so, with every journey’s end, she found herself reborn, a traveler forever bound to the rails.

Weekly Challenge #938: Total Security

I think I mixed the ending a bit oddly… oh well. You can see the topic here:

The next topic is Train

RICHARD

Sold!

I bought it on Amazon: No, it wasn’t cheap, but maybe I was swayed by the product description.

‘Absolute peace of mind, and total security’, it said, and then to ram the point firmly home, it went on to detail exactly why I had no need whatsoever ever to worry…

Waterproof, leak proof and rot resistant. Non-fade, colourfast and hard-wearing. Biologically and dermatologically tested, additive free, hypo-allergenic and vegan friendly.

Safe, secure, tried and tested, and a lifetime no-quibble guarantee.

I had to have it.

If only I knew what the hell it’s supposed to do!

LIZZIE

The security unit monitored the whole house. Total Security, stated the ad. But the resident cat hated it. When the security unit started growling, the owners thought they were doomed. Killed by a security unit. The horror. Well, the unit was just bored. Eventually, the feline and the unit struck up a friendship when the unit started purring. The cat thought that was rather amusing. But then the security unit was fired for being too noisy. So, the cat made a big fuss. Long story short, the unit stayed. Cats rule. If they want total security, they get total security.

LISA

Where

We’re in a room with a huge fire. There’s cakes and tea. Our eyes are out on stalks but at the same time we all wince from the brightness. You can see for miles and yet you can see nothing. We’re remote. But based on the opulence of the room we’re in- this is not some rural backwater.

Our captor explains.

“It’s a gated property. You, the chosen ones, will have total security here- you can walk for miles and not meet a soul. We keep the gate locked. To stop outsiders getting in, not to stop you getting out.”

SERENDIPIDY

Good choice!

As panic rooms go, you really couldn’t do much better. Concrete walls, solid steel door with multiple timer-secured deadlocks and three-sixty external surveillance systems. Total security.

I see you’ve stocked up on supplies for at least a week too. That shows great foresight and planning. Well done.

Because, let’s face it, with a character like me stalking the neighbourhood, you really don’t want to be taking chances.

But, I do feel there’s something you may have missed.

A secure panic room is great, once you’re inside.

Not so good, if I got in there before you!

TOM

Not So Good

My wife works in a clinic. In the clinic are departments who would sell their first born for an extra 4 square feet. Now that square footage in her office has been usurped for reasons of security. In a safe of considerable weight are keep the holy grail of medicine. My wife doesn’t buy into admins reasoning for a safe in her office. They muse for the need for ToTaL Security: a safe behind a lock door. Gail pointed out there is an 18 inch window in her office. To maintain Total total security they moved it to the john.

854

Water Torture Remote

The codename for the project was: Water Torture Remote. DARPA funded it in the late 60s. The core of the project was to train solders in lucid dreaming. Once in a heighten state of consciousness images of prime targets would be scanned on the retinas. Targets were merged in dreamtime. At this point the suggestion that water was filling the targets lungs would be planted in the target’s consciousness. It almost worked; problem was the guys running the scanners got linked-in. Water Torture Remote took them out. Needless to say, the project was summarily defunded. Nothing in DARPA ever truly dies.

NORVAL JOE

“Come on, son. Let’s go home,” Billbert’s father said.
Billbert rattled the handcuffs. “I can’t dad.”
Billbert’s mother looked like she was going to grab Vattash by the throat. “Why would you cuff a child during a friendly chat?” she asked sarcastically.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry ma’am. It’s part of our total security protocol. Anyone under interrogation, or rather, questioning, must remain secured.”
“Fine,” Mr. Dinklehouser said. “We’ll have our attorney stop by and interrogate, or rather, question you.”
Releasing Billbert and blushing slightly, Officer Vattash said, “Don’t bother. Your son is no longer considered a person of interest.”

PLANET Z

A white van parked out on the street, TOTAL SECURITY in bold black letters on the side.
It hasn’t moved for 4 days.
I tried to look in the windows, but they’re blacked out.
I look up the license plates, and they’re registered to a company called Total Security.
Just a PO Box and a local phone number.
I call it, and it rings… but nobody answers, no voicemail.
I look up from my phone, and the van is gone.
Strange. I didn’t hear it start up or drive off.
I shrug and walk home, feeling somewhat insecure about reality.

CHATGPT

In a world where privacy was a luxury, Total Security emerged, a fortress of algorithms guarding every digital footprint. Citizens surrendered autonomy for serenity. Yet, behind the impenetrable walls, a whisper persisted—a clandestine resistance weaving through the binary maze. One day, the system faltered, a hairline fracture in its armor. Through that breach, a revelation surged—a reminder that true security isn’t found in surveillance but in the freedom to navigate without fear. And so, in the quiet hum of defiance, the seeds of liberation were sown, promising a new dawn where trust was earned, not coerced by the illusion of safety.

Weekly Challenge #937: Values

The next topic is Total Security

NORVAL JOE

A shocked expression flashed onto Officer Sheepdip’s face. Before she could close the door, Billbert shouted, “Mom, Dad. I’m in here.”
The door slammed shut.
Having been led through the office to the interrogation room, Billbert knew his parents must have heard him.
His parents burst into the room and seeing him handcuffed to the table, his mother turned on Vattash. “What are you doing to my son?”
Vattash stood, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Ma’am we were only having a friendly chat. I assure you, our agency values citizens’ rights and would never think to infringe upon them.”

LIZZIE

Comfort and quality. The true values of a traditional railroad company. And then there was Herbert, the old man who was the new employee. He made everyone’s lives as difficult as possible. When he kicked a passenger’s… backside… out of the train for complaining about everything, everyone was horrified. Why wasn’t he fired immediately? And then, they received a letter. He owned the company and gave all employees a share of it. And he did so, because he realized that dealing with the public was a pain in the… Comfort and quality, yes. But also respect for the staff. There!

SERENDIPIDY

Let’s play a game.

You’re on a crowded lifeboat, and some of you need to be thrown overboard, or none will survive.

Your task is deciding who lives and who dies, based on the perceived values, skills and benefits they bring to the group.

It’s not an exact science, but I’m sure there’s plenty of fun and interesting discussion to be had, and – at the end of the day – it’s the greater good that matters, not the needs of the individual.

Except for my needs.

Which is why you’re all in the lifeboat, and I’m still on board the ship!

LISA

He’s Back
He’s back, he looks like he’s really pleased to see us.

“Morning! Sorry I’ve been away, so long, I hope you’ve been well looked after? It’s time I explained things properly. I think it takes a near death experience to make you reassess your values, and appreciate what you’ve got and what you, perhaps, could have.

“Please. Come upstairs and get comfortable. I wasn’t planning on having that car accident so this explanation and apology is long overdue.” He’s exuding charm and care. We’ve spent months in his basement but he’s acting as if we’ve just popped over for tea.

TOM

A man’s reach should exceed his grasp.

What Timmy valued was last square of property in the worst street in London. Which had the worst meat-pies in London, but you could get a close shave upstairs. The value of that tiny plot of filth was small but the owner of same plot was adamite in retaining it. Timmy had exhausted all reasonable courses of action. Driven to a dark metaphysical opinion, Timmy summoned the likes of the companies founding father and his 16 feet of chains and chests. This should have done the trick, but Marley took a liking to the owner. They had tea regularly. Damn.

853

We think In Centuries

For centuries phosphors tied themselves in knots trying to find the evidentiary underpinning for a Supreme Being. Investigation into origins of this question often lead into speculation about the nature of a power much greater than ourselves. This lead to speculations about God; more specifically, arguments designed to establish the existence of God with the use of “unaided reason”. Example: “First Cause” argues there are events that occur now, and these must have been caused; however, for there to be events now, there must have been a first cause; that is God. In the end Evidence just wasn’t there. Bupkis.

RICHARD

Welcome to the real world

All day long, every day, I stare at spreadsheets, tracking the values of assets and projecting profits and gains based on historical performance?

Sounds really boring, right?

Believe me, it is!

It’s a job and the pay is OK. I guess that’s how it goes for most of us. We can’t all be brain surgeons and astronauts, right?

It’s just a case of ‘grin and bear it’ and pretend it’s better than it is.

So, when I tell people I work in a chocolate factory, and they say ‘Wow! Awesome! A real life Willy Wonka!”

I just smile, and agree.

PLANET Z

She held true to her values.
Buried in her white gown, flowers in her hair.
Untouched, unloved.
Found surrounded by books.
Poetry in so many languages.
Could she understand a word of it?
Paintbrush in her hand, a canvas on the easel.
Where was the paint? they asked.
Some say she painted with her tears.
Dabbing the brush to her cheek, the canvas.
Over and over.
Invisible skies, invisible flowers.
Invisible wind.
Paintbrush in her hand, head down, as if she were asleep.
A wisp of hair across her face, a gentle smile.
As if she’d just told a joke.

CHATGPT

In the heart of a bustling city, where skyscrapers pierced the sky, lived a humble old man named Isaac. Every morning, he sat on a worn-out bench, feeding pigeons with crumbs of his sandwich. One day, a young executive passing by tossed a coin at him, sneering. Isaac caught it, but instead of pocketing it, he returned it, saying, “Kindness is worth more than silver.” The executive paused, pondering. Weeks later, he returned, this time with lunch for Isaac, apologizing for his ignorance. From that day on, the bench became a place where values of empathy and respect intertwined, forging an unexpected bond.

Weekly Challenge #936: PICK TWO Urge, Infinitesimal, Scratch, Signal, Broken dreams, Arcade

The next topic is Values

LISA

Broken Dreams

The sound of a siren wakes us. It’s close and feels as if it’s above us. We scrabble together, unsure what to do, should we signal to them? Start shouting perhaps?

It raises the same unspoken question- we’re not really prisoners, are we? The basement door’s unlocked so we’ve no great urge to escape. Why shout for help when we could probably just walk out anyway.

“I think it was an ambulance not a police car.”

“I can never tell the difference.”

I wonder if Number 1 is back and whether we are, at last, going to get some answers.

LIZZIE

Broken dreams and a scratch. A deep cut, now nothing but a scratch on the surface of the skin, a faint recollection of pain. A deepness forgotten.
Broken dreams and the urge to speak, to shout a future lost.
In complete silence, in complete immobility.
Broken dreams and a second, only a brief second, a signal from afar, a thump, a thump, a thump…
The drumming, louder and louder. A cacophony of doubts building up.
Broken dreams now and yesterday, and now. Broken.
Dreams of futures unspoken. And maybe, just maybe one day, just one day…
Maybe broken no more.

RICHARD

The Game of Life

Welcome to the Arcade of Broken Dreams!

Here are the games of despair and the wasted efforts, the hours of fruitless endeavour, and hopes betrayed.

What will you play today?

Will you play the claw machine? Clutching futilely at your goals, teasingly just out of reach, until – tantalisingly close – they fall from your grasp?

Or perhaps you’ll choose the coin cascade? Feeding its hunger with all you have in the vain hope of winning big, but you never do.

Whichever game you play, you’ll never win. Your life will never change.

But, I know you’ll be back again tomorrow.

Guaranteed!

SERENDIPIDY

You’ll find the urge to scratch irresistible.

But, trust me, scratching is the very last thing that you want to do.

By now, your skin is paper thin. It’ll tear at the slightest touch, and you’ll soon be ripping your own flesh from the bones. I promise you, once you start, you won’t be able to stop.

So, I urge you, don’t scratch.

Resist the temptation.

Grit your teeth and hold on, no matter what.

I know you’ll give in, eventually, but please try not to scratch, just for a moment.

At least wait until I’ve turned the camera on.

NORVAL JOE

After the officer asked the same series of questions for the hundredth time, he said, “Okay. Let’s start over from scratch.”
Billbert had the urge to pound his head on the table. He interrupted the officer’s line of questioning. “Officer Vattash, you said you were going to call my parents hours ago. Why aren’t they here?”
Vattash shrugged indifferently. “Maybe they weren’t home.”
A female officer poked her head through the doorway. “Hey Vattash. The boy’s parents are here. They’re filing a missing person report.”
“Officer Sheepdip!” Vattash growled. He made an annoyed face and tipped his head toward Billbert.

TOM

It was the 80s

If there ever an Arcade of Broken dreams it surely was Pizza Time Theater. The second restaurant in the chain was located in the back end of Town and Country in San Jose. I spend hours their glue to a space invaders. The place was a mad house of kids running around. Parents throwing back beer and wine that was on tap right next to the fountain dispenser. Only thing missing was the paper umbrella. When the whole thing folded, I was on the chapter 13 crew to sort out assets. Got that very space invader cabinet for a song.

852 Airship Archimedes

In 1928 the airship Archimedes made its maiden flight. The DELG created a fight from Buenos Aires to Caracas. Of note Captain Juan Domingo Perón was on that voyage. The Archimedes flow for nine years. On the night of May 5 1937 the airship disappeared over the upper Amazon Basin. Production of Archimedes II was discontinued during the war. The hanger it was stored in were bombed by the British in 1943. The Archimedes III was launched in 2230 it made the run from New Atlantis to Zedi Prime on Mars. Archimedes III was blow-up by the October Rebels.

PLANET Z

Elmo is our robot dog, and it serves a lot of duties.
Going out for samples, fetching gear from the base, cleaning the floors, and the occasional dangerous duty.
We only get so many Elmos a budget cycle, so we have to retrieve any broken Elmos.
If they can’t be repaired, they end up as spare parts for the others.
Patterson likes to say “good boy” and pat Elmo after doing something for him.
Because Patterson knows all too well what happens when we don’t have an Elmo to send out.
“Suit up, Patterson,” says the base commander. “Be careful.”

CHATGPT

In the depths of an arcade, amidst the flashing lights and cacophony of sounds, Sam found solace. Each game offered an escape from reality, a chance to drown out the whispers of broken dreams. But tonight, an infinitesimal spark ignited within him, an urge to break free from the cycle of monotony. As he reached for his favorite game, a scratch on the screen caught his eye. Ignoring the signal of caution, he plunged into the digital world with determination. With each victory, he felt the weight of his shattered dreams lift, replaced by the promise of a new beginning.

Weekly Challenge #935: Stations

The next topic is PICK TWO Urge, Infinitesimal, Scratch, Signal, Broken dreams, Arcade

RICHARD

Written by a human

“And this is where the magic happens.”

Terry opened the door with a flourish revealing a vast open plan office, a sea of work stations, printers and telephones. All very impressive, but I was somewhat bemused by the lack of people.

“Where is everyone?” I asked.

“Oh, we fired them. Replaced the entire workforce, apart from me – and you now, of course – with AI. Cheaper, more efficient and excellent results, every time.”

I was confused.

“So, where exactly do I fit in?”

“That’s simple, we need someone substandard to cock things up occasionally, and give the impression real people work here.”

SERENDIPIDY

This train only really stops at two stations, this one, where you join us, and the next stop – the end of the line.

I can see that you’re confused. You know there are several stops before yours, and you’re wondering why I’ve ruled them out.

The fact is, they don’t matter. You’ve never left the train at those stations before, and you won’t be doing so today. Actually, you won’t be leaving at your stop either.

You’ll never reach it.

I’ve removed a section of track, and the train will be wrecked.

It’s the end of the line, for you.

NORVAL JOE

As the police officer drove through the forest, Billbert wondered if Eureka even had a downtown.
He had been right to question it when the patrol car pulled into what looked like a strip mall and the city police and county sheriff had their stations in the same building.
They ushered Billbert to an interrogation room and locked one cuff to the table.
“Aren’t you going to read me my rights, or something?” Billbert asked.
The officer smiled congenially. “You’re not under arrest. We just want to talk about some things.”
Billbert looked at the handcuffs and raised an eyebrow.

TOM

I’ve been a Bowie fan since 1969. Same year Space Oddity came out, the who released their rock opera. It was pretty cool in the late 60s to be named Tom. Saw Bowie and the Who in the late 80s. What I remember from the Who concert was hearing loss. What I remember of the Bowie concert was an amazing rendition of Station to Station. It is always best to barely listen to Bowie lyrics, unless you’re a Talmudic scholar. From Kether to Malkuth is ref to The Tree of Life. Bowie was ice masquerading as fire.

PLANET Z

Carrier pigeon arrives, and we unseal the tube.
A black scroll falls out. We thread it through the playback machine and listen.
Hill seven… fifteen minutes after midnight.
The sergeant gets the troops armed and ready as we look over the maps.
There’s no way to hill seven without running into the enemy.
Maybe if we set a few diversions… light a few fires…
But the enemy knows our tricks.
We think it over in the mess hall… maybe…
We have the cook lay out his best stuff… lure the enemy in…
And the troops head out to hill seven.

CHATGPT

In the heart of the city, amid the flurry of commuters and echoes of announcements, stood a forgotten station. Its platforms weathered with time, its benches worn with stories untold. Each day, a solitary figure, Alice, arrived, not for a destination, but for memories. She’d sit, tracing the lines of graffiti etched like whispers of rebellion. Here, time danced backward, revealing moments lost in the rush. Conversations lingered in the air, laughter echoed through empty corridors. In this station of shadows, Alice found solace, lost in the poetry of forgotten journeys. For in stations, past and present intertwine, stitching tales of transient souls.

Weekly Challenge #934 – Register

The next topic is Stations

RICHARD

It’s me

I was the one who never paid attention in school.
I was the one who spent time doodling, rather than studying.
I was the one who never got good grades.
I was the one who never cared about grades anyway.
I was the one who didn’t turn up for the last two years of school.
I was the one who only got a minimum wage job.
I’m the one who works on the checkout.
But you never see me.
I’m the one crouched beneath the register.
I’m the one making the ‘boop, boop’ noises as the cashier scans your goods.

LISA

FACTS

We set about collating the various newspaper articles we’d found and created a makeshift register, it felt good to have a task, something to do.

Two girls- never been here in the basement- DEAD

Ten Boys- not here MISSING

And our names. All fifteen of them.

We use a separate page for each name and add dates of birth, ages, eye colour, where we worked, lived, and were taken. I was trying to find a pattern or connection but apart from the fact we’ve been sharing a basement for months; there doesn’t seem to be much else that links us.

SERENDIPIDY

I’m here, although you never acknowledge me.

Always with you, biding my time, just waiting for my moment. I barely register in your consciousness, and you may never even discover me there, but be assured, I am.

So, I wait.

And, just maybe, one day I will burst forth and reveal myself and all that I am.

All that you are.

When the chain snaps, and the gloves come off, you’ll see me for who I am.

I am the murderer, the avenger, and the destroyer – the secret side we all harbour. Never revealed.

Did I say never?

Maybe not!

LIZZIE

To attend the Social Club, one must register by performing a few tasks. A first edition for the library, one gold coin for the coffers, and a finger. At first, he assumed it would be his fingerprint. No, an actual finger and not his own. Well, that could pose a challenge. They nodded. He tried. He did. But who would’ve thought people were so attached to their fingers… He ended up hiring a squirmish hitman who refused to do the chopping. Then, he hired a butcher with morals. And here he was, at the Social Club, but not that one.

TOM

Explore the Fascinating World of Machine Language.

When I was a kid there was this cool educational toy call the Visible Man. A clear plastic shell will all the organs in primary colors. Later the VISIBLE V8 Internal Combustion Engine arrived. There was even a Visible Horse. Fast forward to the heady days of Apple 2e when shelves of program vied for your computing interest. An offering called Visible 6502 caught my eye. Thought it would have the same cool effect as the old models. Nope, a grid of hex-s flowing though registers. Watching an Accumulator accumulate not exactly quality entertainment. What it needed was Blinkenlights.

Here’s the Deal

I’m not a consistent dealer. In spite of hours of poker play I haven’t quite got the knack of counting to five. Why do my friends allow be anywhere close to a deck? I deal amazing hands. Often the best cards anyone has had in their life. One evening I dealt Don four queens. He framed the cards. Another night I dealt a royal flush. That one sadly only got Robert 50 cents. Over COVID I created a magic deck that deals out infinite royal flushes. Trick only works if you can count to five. Still working on that part.

NORVAL JOE

Paramedics worked on Mr. Withybottom as they passed the wrecked Continental.
Billbert hoped it would register when he shouted, “Linoliamanda is okay. She’s in the meadow with Sabrina.”
Sitting in the patrol car, Billbert looked at Sabrina’s blood on his hands. “Those are my friends in the meadow. Is Sabrina going to be okay?”
The cop looked at Billbert in the rearview mirror as he backed onto the dirt road. “Fine way to show your friendship by shooting them.”
“You need to find that septic tank guy. He’s the shooter,” Billbert pleaded.
“You need to shut up,” the cop sniped.

PLANET Z

My grandfather ran a grocery co-op in Downtown Chicago, serving corner bodegas and convenience stores for decades.
There was a massive brass antique cash register in the office.
As kids, we’d play with it. Until we got bored.
My grandfather would leave some coins in the register.
I don’t know if these were meant for us, or he knew we’d take the coins whether they were gifts or not.
We also climbed the stairs to the loft where the candy was stored, and stole that.
I always feel a little guilty going through the candy aisle in the Circle K.

CHATGPT

In the quiet of a dusty bookstore, an ancient register nestled amidst forgotten tomes. Its brass keys whispered tales of countless transactions, each one a chapter in the store’s history. From the excitement of a child’s first book to the solemnity of a final purchase, it bore witness to life’s passage. Yet, as the world outside changed, the register remained steadfast, a guardian of memories. Its worn buttons, a testament to time’s relentless march. And though technology advanced, its simple elegance endured, a beacon of nostalgia. For within its polished frame lay not just records, but echoes of bygone eras.

Weekly Challenge #933 – You’ll never believe

The next topic is Register

LISA

Revelation

Another day brings with it another newspaper.

“You’ll never believe it – there’s a serial killer out there.”

She turns the page to show two familiar faces from the police evidence board. The girls the police found murdered before I was taken. I survey the room awaiting the recognition and inevitable horror.

There’s nothing.

“Don’t you recognise them?” I ask incredulously.

Every girl shakes her head.

I look around and realise our man isn’t who I thought he was.

My mind races, do the police know by now?

So. What is he? Is anyone actually looking for him.

I keep quiet.

LIZZIE

You’ll never believe what the crow said. “Crows don’t speak,” someone shouted from the back of the room. He continued to explain. Some listened in silence. Many mocked him. “It’s coming. We need to prepare.” But who was coming? And why? “I don’t know.” A group fled to the mountains. The rest just went home. The next day, a giant shadow covered the town. “Blind, we’re all blind.” This lasted a hundred years. Then, the shadow lifted. When the crow returned, they listened. They worked together. They were prepared. The crow smiled,whispering “No need for a shadow this time.”

RICHARD

Charlie

Hey, listen to this…

You’ll never believe what I saw last night: Charlie out on the town, with a blonde bimbo half his age.

You wouldn’t credit it, would you? Charlie, of all people!

Good luck to him, I say. Can’t help feeling sorry for his Mrs though, at home all alone, while he’s carrying on behind her back. Poor thing.

I left the group to gossip amongst themselves, then sent a text to Charlies’ daughter: ‘Take your dad down the pub again tonight.’

That would leave the whole evening free for me and his Mrs to have fun again.

SERENDIPIDY

You’ll never believe the pain I can inflict upon you.

Just imagine how it feels to have your finger and toenails slowly peeled off, or to have acid pumped into every orifice.

Or maybe I’ll stick matches in your eyes, then set them aflame?

And that’s just for starters.

I want you to know exactly what lies in store for you if you dare to try that with me ever again!

Some things you just don’t do.

So, be a dear… make me another cup of coffee, and this time – if you know what’s good for you – only one sugar!

NORVAL JOE

A swat agent approached Billbert. He shook his head grimly. “You’ll never believe we have a teenage shooter in our county. How many mass shootings have we had in America this year already? What is this country coming to?”
He looked at one of his men and nodded to Billbert. “Cuff him.”
“It wasn’t me.” Billbert struggled to point as the driver disappeared into the trees. “It was that guy.”
Seeing no one where Billbert indicated, the officer said, “We’ll hear your story when we get you downtown.”
They dragged Billbert past the car wreck to a waiting squad car.

TOM

933

You’ll never believe it, but I just meet the Pope at the Venetian. He was playing craps in one of the far back rooms. Had a bunch of holy see guys with him. Sure, they were all in some form of disguise. Lot of bad facial hair. Sided burns out of the 50s. God damn Mullets. Pope in front party in back. Sure, I know the news said he was in hospital, but I’m tell you it was the pope. He even had me blow on his dices. What was the tip-off. No one wears red Pradas like his holiness.

850

Concertinas and Pacing
Of late my favorite classic piece of music is libertango by Astor Piazzolla. It is the music currently playing in the background. Very Latin in flavor. There are dozens of videos on the net with Concertinas soaring at blistering pacing. Some include demolition Tango dancers. This is not father’s accordion. Actually, the key pattern is different. Concertinas have keys operating parallel to the bellows travel and accordions have keys operating perpendicular to the bellows travel. Concertinas feature buttons at both ends of the instrument whereas accordion buttons are on the front. I wonder if Weird Al has recorded a version?

PLANET Z

I try not to eat too late these days.
Best to let food settle for three or four hours before laying down or sleeping.
It makes naps difficult. Impossible.
And if dinner slides a bit later, well, best to have a light salad or soup earlier and then reschedule.
Otherwise, it’s a dessert of antacids.
And certainly not any coffee or anything harsh on the stomach.
Too many times, and you can kiss sleep goodbye.
Can you call in sick? Good.
Check for a series to stream, bundle up, and keep yourself awake a bit until the food goes down.

CHATGPT

“You’ll never believe it,” Bob exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement as he burst into the room. “I just trained my goldfish to play poker!”

His friends exchanged skeptical glances. “Bob, you’ve lost it,” Sarah chuckled.

But Bob was undeterred. He proudly displayed his aquatic card sharks, each goldfish sporting a tiny poker visor and a serious expression. As they dealt the cards, one fish even blew a bubble confidently.

“See? He’s bluffing!” Bob pointed, but the others erupted into laughter.

“Congratulations, Bob,” Sarah said, patting his shoulder. “You’ve officially reached the deep end of insanity.”

Weekly Challenge #932 – Across

The next topic is You’ll never believe

LISA

He brought us today’s newspaper! Finding out that it’s March makes my tummy lurch. It feels odd reading and finding out that life has just gone on without us. But, it seems it has. I’m almost disappointed that we’re not spoken about on every page.

There’s actually nothing about any of us.

The headlines are full of a missing boy. A boy: from across the river. I scour the article, the police cogs in my brain whirring, it makes three missing lads in the last month. It’s weirdly as if it’s written about us but they’re boys that have disappeared.

RICHARD

Never a cross word

I don’t know why I bother with the crossword, I rarely manage to complete it.

I had a vague idea it might keep my brain active, perhaps prevent the onset of future senility, but I have my doubts.

This morning’s effort wasn’t going well.

Nine across: seven letters, B, something, something, F, something, L, something, D; ‘Perplexed, the flow is obstructed’. What sort of a rubbish clue was that?

Perhaps dementia was already setting in?

Taking a slurp of coffee didn’t make things any clearer, and I put my pen down, defeated.

Yes, I’ve given up once again. Completely… Baffled.

LIZZIE

She sat down in the cabine across the aisle from me. She didn’t smile when I smiled. She looked down, her hands on her lap. It was pouring. I always worried about everything. In my mind, she worried too. So, I wanted to go over to her. A hug. Or perhaps I could hold her hand. As her husband-to-be, I heard someone say, closed the door, she took a quick glimpse at me and waved a shy wave. We never talked, but every year we would make the same trip. And I would wait a whole year for that wave.

SERENDIPIDY

How do I get the seriousness of your situation across to you?

All I’m asking you to do is confess your sins and recant your faith – just say the words – not exactly difficult, is it?

I simply need to hear you say it, and then you can go free. No need for any more torture, pain or tears. I can make it all go away, but first I need to hear you say it.

My impatience grows. Your refusal to speak is becoming irritating.

Although, coming to think of it, maybe I should have waited before cutting out your tongue?

NORVAL JOE

Billbert grabbed the rifle from the man’s fingertips and stepped back as the helicopter flew across the treetops and dropped down into the meadow by Sabrina. Swat team members spilled from the open doors.
A loudspeaker squelched. “Put the rifle down and put your hands in the air.”
Knowing that if he’d been Black, Billbert would already be dead, he threw the rifle to the ground.
The van driver ran for the trees and Billbert lowered a hand to point at him. “That’s the guy…”
The loudspeaker cut him off. “Put your hands in the air or we will shoot.”

TOM

It seemed like a good idea at the time

It took either an amazing amount of courage or galactic stupidity. Neither of these terms were available to Pa-Pi. He only had about 300 words in his head, half were getting food, food itself, what animals want him for food. When he put the lashed timber together and dropped it in the water, the locals laughed there asses off. Ass was pretty very useful for collective humor. They hadn’t really invented joke yet. Mostly rocks and fire. It was a rough ride across the water, but he made it. Pa-pi was the first human to leave Africa. The other followed.

849

She could me Boo

Jack entered fatherhood late, but with full on commitment. He even did messy dippers. When toys were purchased, they had been researched for maximum educations value. He also had clear idea of paternal names he truly dislike. Pops was an athame. Daddy was so prosaic. Father so formal. Dad so 1950s. Jack want to be Pa-Pa. A medieval patrona. He wanted a family that would fit in comfortability int a production of Fiddler on the Roof. He saw to himself as the paterfamilias. Of course, the girl, as children will disregarded his wishes. Somehow an early game of peek-a-boo took.

PLANET Z

Bobby started the Neuralink, and his bedroom turned into the classroom.
Bobby liked to log in early, because the good teachers filled up quickly.
Sure, teachers all looked the same, but the people driving the avatars varied.
The state kept offshoring more and more teachers, so you could end up with some Bangladesh contracto driving a thousand pupils and reading from a script, the translation engine spewing gibberish.
Even the AI were better than those geeks.
But Brooks was the best, so Bobby logged in early, took his seat, and went to the bathroom.
And forgot to pause the link.

CHATGPT

In tiny Woodbury, an oddly massive hospital looms, void of doctors, nurses, and beds. Locals, curious, venture to Mainhaven for medical care. Woodbury’s relic is boarded-up, with a forbidden basement that lures adventurous kids. They unearth eerie, rusted tools reminiscent of horror films. Legend whispers that a century ago, the colossal structure was the state asylum, harboring bizarre events. Patients, lost in time, vanished mysteriously. Rumor suggests one transformed into the town’s mayor, proving unexpectedly adept. In the shadows of Woodbury’s past, whispers of a sinister era persist, casting an ominous veil over the unsuspecting town.

Weekly Challenge #931 PICK TWO Free gift, Long live The King, Hit, Scribble, France, Waterfall

The next topic is Across

LISA

It feels like weeks since we’ve seen ‘no 1’ and It hits me that we don’t know the date. I wonder if we’d get one if we asked for a newspaper.

There’s not much to do–most of us are writing something now mostly just scribbled thoughts. We laugh playing with the free gift on the breakfast cereal. Laughter always makes us sad afterwards. The basement becomes quieter and more subdued. It’s odd isn’t it?

It prompts us to think about another explore. We’ve not wanted to since number 2 arrived but we plan and it lifts the mood again.

LIZZIE

It’s almost half past four. I pick up the book, a gift from a stranger in the park. “It’s about France,” he said with a smile. It hit me then that if I don’t leave, she will destroy me. “Why do you hate me so much?” She asked. I don’t. I never have. Wrong answer. And after that, she punished me for weeks with silence. I grab my small backpack, my whole life in it, and go. A gift, a smile, a gesture of generosity, and I am free. That’s all it took. Amazing, isn’t it? That’s all it took.

RICHARD

Free, or captive?

I’m a sucker for a free gift, doesn’t matter what it is, what it’s worth, or whatever it is I have to purchase or sign up for to get it, count me in.

Supermarket trips can be a nightmare, hit me with an aisle full of ‘buy one, get one free’, and I’ll be there all day, until the money runs out.

That’s becoming a real problem, actually. My habit has put me on the brink of bankruptcy, and even though every room in my house is stuffed full of freebies, there’s not an item of real value among them.

SERENDIPIDY

Long live the king, they shout and cheer. It sickens me, but let them have their moment, for it will soon be over and the streets will run with monarchist blood.

Tonight, the revolution begins, and we who have vowed to see a new future will rise up and claim France for its people.

No more will the aristocracy lord it over us, while we suffer and toil; no more will the working class support those who have never lifted a finger in honest labour.

Long live the king? I very much doubt it.

Vive la révolution!

Vive la France!

TOM

Faith
There is a waterfall in France call Labulaydelusane. As waterfall go it isn’t that high, or wide or watery crashy. What it has is a grotto of uncommon beauty. It gives the sanctuary of Lourdes Massabielle, a run for the money. A clever family in the 16th century place a pile of crutches against the wall. Over time folk have left 1000s of crutches on wall. The family got pretty damn rich hawking the healing water of Labulaydelusane. Everyone who left their crutches there need to roll away in a wheelchair. But still they come. Until the day Timmy arrived

848

Cross country.

cross country racing strategy does not necessarily simplify to running a steady pace from start to finish. runners debate the relative merits of fast starts to get clear of the field, versus steady pacing to maximize physiological efficiency. Some teams emphasize running in a group in order to provide encouragement, while others hold that every individual should run their own race. Whether you run ahead ‘of the pack’ or behind it and pull ahead in the end is important, but can vary according to the runner’s skill and endurance. Runners should also account for food intake prior to the race.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert hovered above the car crash. It was like a free gift from fate that the shooter had been dazed when he hit the ground.
He recognized the Lincoln Continental that had smashed into the van as Mr. Withybottom’s.
Three teenage Black Knights stumbled from the van. There was no movement from Mr. Withybottom.
As the residents crept into the meadow, Billbert heard distant sirens and a helicopter approaching.
The teens heard it too and scattered into the trees.
The shooter had come around and crawled to get his rifle. Billbert couldn’t allow that and flew fast to intercept him.

PLANET Z

Some say that the Iditarod is the toughest race, but having a team of dogs pull your sled through snow for a thousand miles is nothing compared to a fourth-grader having to drag a cello eight blocks from home to music school and back through Harlem at night.
That’s why we set up the Midnight Youth Orchestra in one of the basketball courts.
The kids come out and play, and the dealers stop dealing, the hookers stop hooking, and the junkies stop junking.
Everybody forgets where they are and who they are.
Until Old Mrs. Washington files a noise complaint.

CHATGPT

In the heart of France, a waterfall whispered secrets to the passing winds. Amidst its mist, a traveler stumbled upon a scribbled note—a plea for freedom, a gift from a silenced voice. Unraveling its message, the traveler uncovered a plot against the king, a hit orchestrated by dissenters. Determined to protect the monarchy, the traveler raced to the castle, delivering the warning. The king’s reign was safeguarded, his gratitude overflowing like the cascade before him. Long live the king echoed through the land, a testament to the power of loyalty and the resilience of a nation united.

Weekly Challenge #930 – Car Crash

A day late, but not a dollar short…

The next topic is PICK TWO Free gift, Long live The King, Hit, Scribble, France, Waterfall

LISA

A different man comes to the door this morning. His face is less gentle. He stares too long at all of us as he pops the box down. I see it in his profile a brother or a cousin, definitely a relative.

It’s awkward. He stands staring for too long. We stare back expectantly whilst having no idea what to expect.

“He’s been in a car crash.”

None of us speak.

“He’s OK but in hospital.”

He turns, lingers by the door.

“Do you need anything else?”

I’m not sure if any of us has blinked.

We shake our heads.     

RICHARD

Bad Reception

“Why do you watch that rubbish” she asked.

I looked at her blankly, waiting for further explanation.

She put on her ‘exasperated’ look. “It’s car crash TV. You know it’s aimed at plebs and Neanderthals, don’t you?”

I grunted in response. Might as well rise to the occasion, I thought.

She looked at me in disgust, “well, I’m not watching it with you, I’m going to watch Britain’s Got Talent in the bedroom!”
I gave her a moment, waiting for the bedroom door to close, before switching to the movie channel.

Nothing like having a good movie all to yourself!

LIZZIE

They survived the car crash. They survived the cruise ship sinking in the Mediterranean. They survived the train wreck in Sri Lanka. And the list went on and on. A tsunami, a volcanic eruption, a flood, a tornado, even a pandemic. Until that long-awaited trip to the North pole. “Take the icebreaker. It’s safer,” someone said.” No, of course not. “Let’s do something dangerous. Nothing ever happens to us.” They rented a small plane. Did they know how to fly a plane? Not really. And that’s where the list stopped. Simulation terminated. “Lousy game. Good thing it was dirt cheap.”

SERENDIPIDY

Yeah, I cut the brake lines. So what?

It’s not as if the car was worth a whole lot. It was falling apart, an unreliable rust bucket that would only start when it felt like it, and was a complete nightmare to keep on the road.

So, it really had to go, and I wanted to send it off in style. The idea was to floor the gas pedal and let it crash headlong into a tree, without anything to prevent the impact.

So, I cut the brake lines. So what?

Oh, right. Yeah, my husband was driving.

So what?

TOM

crash

It was my freshman year in college. My roommate was driving a Ford Econ. We were tooling down the JFK back to Evanston. Suddenly a spring downpour, 2in in about five minutes. We got cut off, not quite. Truck clips the front of the van sent is into a 360 spin. We pile into a bridge abutment. Driver’s door pops open dumping my roommate out. Van does a second 360 toss me out the same door on to the freeway. I side diagonally across four lanes of highway. And finally pile into the guardrail. Miracle, I survived the car crash.

Calcutta

It was the 36th hole. Two days of play. Our team was in second place. One stroke difference from beating the guys in first place. This was the only match at the club that banked bets. The caddies were not allowed to bet, but one member place them for us. The whole club was surrounding the green of the 18th. All three of the team dropped their putts. If my member dropped it on one it looked out the team behind us. The putt rims the cup and rolls a way. Everyone sees the choke. Crowd does a low murmur.

NORVAL JOE

Linoliumanda knelt next to Billbert, looked at Sabrina’s leg and threw up.
Billbert pulled off his hoody, folded it into a thick square and pressed it against Sabrina’s wound.
“Mandi. Hold this against Sabrina’s leg.”
Wide eyed, Linoliumanda shook her head, and vomited again.
“You have to,” Billbert said and took her hands, placing them on the hoody. “Keep pressure on the wound.”
Billbert leaped into the air and shot toward the van.
With a loud crash and the sound of tearing metal, the van shook and the driver was thrown to the ground, his assault rifle landing yards away.

PLANET Z

Some men put their man caves in their basements and fill them with televisions and barstools and sports memorabilia, but Elias’ mancave is a literal cave along the coast of Scotland.
When he invites the guys over for the drink, they hop in their rowboats and fight the waves for an hour or so before landing exhausted on the rocky shore.
Some don’t make it, and the ones who do raise a toast to their memory.
Then they head back out, because the mancave gets lousy television reception, and the cable guy died last year.
The gang toasts his memory.

CHATGPT

Amidst the night’s haze, tires screeched and metal clashed. Two lives intersected in a split second, forever altering destinies. Glass shattered like dreams as reality blurred into chaos. Sirens wailed, piercing the silence of the once serene street. Bodies shaken, hearts racing, they emerged from the wreckage, grateful for survival yet haunted by what could have been. In the wreckage’s aftermath, amidst twisted metal and broken dreams, they found solace in each other’s embrace. A reminder that even in life’s most jarring collisions, there exists the potential for healing and the strength to rebuild from the wreckage.