Category: Weekly Challenge

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

LISA

Bedtime

No one remembered when she’d stopped talking except her. It was easy to remember your ninth birthday. She’d got by silently since then with a series of mimes and a whiteboard she took everywhere with her.

She’d been prodded and poked by Doctors all over the country but they found no physical reason why. One had shouted ‘This needs to stop NOW’.

She didn’t eat much but had just started to feel a hunger. A waking need within. As her Dad sat on her bed to say goodnight she decided tomorrow would be the day that she actually told someone.

RICHARD

Mimes

I really don’t like them.

Ambushing you in the street, with their silly white faces, striped shirts and gloves, thinking they’re oh, so clever.

It starts with the old, stuck in a glass box illusion: Feeling their way around imaginary, invisible walls. Then we’re treated to the invisible tug of war, the non-existent bunch of balloons threatening to drag them off into the heavens, and then – if you’re really, really lucky – the impossibly heavy bag illusion.

And unbelievably, they have the temerity to rattle a collection box under your nose.

So, I always mime dropping a coin into the box!

LIZZIE

The Drunk Monk Tavern didn’t have a nice brew or even acceptable food but had the best mime contests. Mimes came from miles away to take a chance at winning the big prize. And what was the big prize? Lily. Lily was the daughter of a monk, according to her mother. And Lily desperately wanted to get away from her dishonorable past . The only problem was that she couldn’t stand men yapping on and on. She wanted a mime. Her mother agreed especially because they were running out of room in the backyard and the local authorities were getting suspicious.

SERENDIPIDY

She mimes that she’s hungry – she has to: The room is soundproofed and you can’t hear anything through the plate glass.

I’ve kept her prisoner in that room for nearly ten years now, and she’s become quite adept at communicating with me by miming. It’s probably just as well: I’d have been perfectly happy to leave her to starve to death and rot, but I figured if she’s going to make an effort, so should I.

Considering her condition, it’s surprising how elegant and eloquent her communication can be, almost beautiful.

She’s proof that art is the product of suffering.

NORVAL JOE

Before either Billbert or Linoliamanda could say more, their history teacher stood up. “Okay, class. Let’s have some silence as I take role.”
The two attempted to mime their questions and answers to one another, but mostly made the universal sign for, ‘I don’t understand’.
Billbert struggled to pay attention in the 45 minute class until he could voice his questions.
As they headed back out into the hallway, Billbert pointed to his friend and said, “Sabrina. This is a friend from my old junior high, Linoliamanda.”
Linoliamanda smiled vacantly and said, “You’re a witch, aren’t you. I can tell.”

PLANET Z

As much as people hate mimes, the truth is, they don’t hate all mimes.
Sports mascots with the big cartoon heads and don’t speak are actually a form of mime.
And, yes, they’re mimes. They’re not clowns.
The ones without big cartoon heads and are actual people, okay, they’re a mix of clown and cheerleader.
But the rubberheads, they’re mimes.
Mimes may use invisible props while mascots use actual props, but neither speak, and both express themselves with gestures.
So, yeah, people love some mimes.
But that creepy Burger King mascot?
Jesus, that guy is fucking creepy. No way, man.

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

LISA

Reasonable Grounds

Julian thought he was clever and had destroyed all the evidence in the taxi but the one thing he couldn’t hide was the glint of delight in his eye. His wife, Sally, had waited up for him and although she hadn’t seen that glint for a while, recognised it instantly.

So there were no secrets as the couple got into bed but Julian didn’t know that as he slipped into his contented slumber. Sally stared at the stranger she’d been married to for twenty years before deciding she wouldn’t divorce him. Then slowly pressed her pillow over his sleeping head.

RICHARD

…

LIZZIE

I remember this. Everyone used to find it amusing and mother found it particularly useful. The others laughed and giggled and sneered. And mother snickered, looking like a child about to be naughty.
No one ever said a thing. No one ever stepped in. Father was just too busy to even know. Or perhaps he had decided that it was best for him not to know. She used to hang it around my neck, the string emphasizing the humiliation. And I had to do the house chores with that sign on. It said “Bought and sold”. I do remember this.

SERENDIPIDY

One day, they’ll find this cassette tape, carefully protected in a sealed, waterproof bag, inside the pocket of the mouldering remains of the jacket you were wearing when you died.

It may be many years from now, but no matter when, or how your remains are finally unearthed, the contents of this tape will disclose your identity.

And mine. Along with – in the most intimate and visceral way possible – your final, painful moments of life, and your subsequent death and, of course, my confession. All recorded here for posterity.

I just hope, in the future, they remember how cassettes work!

ZACKMANN

I like owning things I paid for but not storing them. Books and DVDs are not so bad because if I have limited shelf space I can always donate them to The Friends of the Library whose sales many of them came from. Sadly they don’t take VHS nor audio cassettes anymore. Sure if I pay for something digitally it can disappear forever at any second because it is licensed not owned but at least my wife won’t complain that it is taking up to much room in our garage for her brother to move his stuff out of storage.

TURA

Remember; Own
———
I remember when you could own stuff. Yours, to do whatever you liked with. Youngsters today can’t even grasp the concept.

I remember famous people. Now everyone’s interchangeable cells, a mould on the planet, creeping everywhere and doing nothing that matters. Sure, they’re “happy” but you can’t have a conversation with them.

The future ended when we got smart enough to make life so easy that life wasn’t hard enough to keep us smart. And now that AIs do all the work, no-one ever needs to be smart again.

All success tends to failure, and this is the ultimate success.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert looked at the rain cloud above them. “Okay. I’ve learned my lesson. Could you shut off the water torture so we can dry off before class?”
Sabrina rolled her eyes and the rain stopped. “Just remember this the next time you doubt me.”
Billbert followed her into class and sat at his normal desk. A blond girl occupied the previously empty desk in front of him.
She turned to face him and her familiar myopic gaze lit up with recognition. “Billbert. What are you doing here?”
Astonished, Billbert said, “Gee Linoliamanda. That’s what I was going to ask you.”

PLANET Z

Long ago, we’d make our own cassette mixtapes.
Songs we’d harvest from the radio, from MTV.
From records and other mixtapes.
Or whatever we stole from the record store.
Then came CDs, and CD burners.
When MP3s came around, and iPods.
Pass around thumb drives of music, attach them to an email.
It’s so easy to share now, with Spotify and other services.
Just send a link, and everybody can listen along.
Then came memory scans, and you could pass a mixtape of how you feel.
And they share how they feel about you.
Really feel.
And they hang up.

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

LISA

Reasonable Grounds

Julian thought he was clever and had destroyed all the evidence in the taxi but the one thing he couldn’t hide was the glint of delight in his eye. His wife, Sally, had waited up for him and although she hadn’t seen that glint for a while, recognised it instantly.

So there were no secrets as the couple got into bed but Julian didn’t know that as he slipped into his contented slumber. Sally stared at the stranger she’d been married to for twenty years before deciding she wouldn’t divorce him. Then slowly pressed her pillow over his sleeping head.

LIZZIE

“No evidence,” repeated the impatient historian.
“But Professor…”
The historian stormed out.
Stubborn fuckers, he thought.
So, he went back to Japan to check the temple again.
“Doubting me… Unacceptable.”
After weeks of research, he found the small button in a dark corner.
Click. A whole new room opened up.
“Damn, they were right,” he whispered.
The historian quickly closed the secret room and pulled a chest over to hide the stupid button.
The next day, the button and his stubbornness were all over the news.
“They followed me…”
And this is how arrogance is the beginning of your downfall.

RICHARD

Evidence?

Maybe those ancient astronaut theorists are right? After all, it’s not beyond the bounds of possibility that our ancestors came from elsewhere.

The evidence, they say, in the books that they’ve written and the documentaries that are beamed into our living rooms is incontrovertible.

Ancient spaceships of the gods, or simply the remains of past civilisations?

Strange markings in the desert… Pre-historic runways, or perhaps the tracks of celestial vehicles? Who can really tell?

They’re certainly intriguing, but I’m not convinced.

The Moon has always been humanity’s home.

The very thought we may have come from elsewhere, is simply preposterous!

ZACKMANN

I miss Saturday morning cartoons and do feel one of the things that led to their demise is restrictions on advertisements for sugar coated sugar filled breakfast cereals.

It could be time to add monsters who eat healthier cereals to the likes of Count Chocula, Boo Berry, and Franken Berry.

The first new Saturday cartoon could be about a Corporate Knight, possibly named Bran Stoker using his guide the ChexCrowNommicon to find evidence of the new creatures.

Once I think of names to go with unsweetened shredded wheat and raisinless bran flakes I can send my pitch to General Mills.

SERENDIPIDY

It’s a well-established principle in law that, without a body, you’re going to have a hell of a job proving a murder.

In fact, without a body, lacking any other incriminating evidence, proving that any crime has taken place is going to be difficult.

After all, people go missing all the time.

It doesn’t have to be abduction, torture and murder, just because they aren’t anywhere to be found.

Although, in this case, it was.

But, that’s not a confession, just a statement of fact.

As for the body?

Well, I can neither confirm, nor deny, it was delicious!

TURA

P(A|B) = P(B|A) P(A) / P(B)
———
Now STUDENT was perplex’d, and asked GOODWILL, “How may I know the road to the Castle of Truth? For these philosophers wander in circles unending.”

Then GOODWILL answer’d, “Dost thou see this narrow way? It was cast up by Bayes and His apostles Jeffreys and Jaynes; and it is as straight as a rule can make it: this is the way that thou must go. Now FREQUENTIST hath said to thee, that there are many roads to that Castle; but one only proceedeth steadfastly toward it, though in his obstinacy he refus’d it, and that is the Way of Bayes.”
———-
A guide for the perplex’d can be found at https://arbital.com/p/bayes_rule/.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert closed his eyes and sighed. “Now you’re hurting my head. You’re just talking in circles. You say that magic doesn’t need to be learned or performed, but we still need to make contact to activate our magic each day. What evidence do you have that you even have magic?”
Sabrina looked up at the clear blue sky. When Billbert started to speak, she held up her hand. “Wait for it.”
First one raindrop landed on his hand, then another on his face, then a light rain shower sprinkled the two. A single black rain cloud had formed above them.

PLANET Z

My lawyer is on the aggressive side.
She logged the entire universe into evidence.
The whole damn universe.
The judge allowed it, and the bailiffs were stuck hauling the entire universe into the courtroom.
Police were tasked with bagging and tagging everything, cataloging it, and handing it to the bailiffs as my lawyer introduced every piece of the universe.
She explained how it fit into the case, and after five weeks, the judge declared a mistrial.
The state declined to retry me. I was let go.
“Next time you get a fucking parking ticket,” my lawyer said. “Don’t call me.”

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

LISA

A wet towel on the bathroom floor.

Honestly? I’m right at the end of my tether. I don’t know why but he’s been drawing circles in the sand. When I went out to hang his wet towel up he’s screaming at me ‘Don’t disturb my circles!’ It’s going to be the last thing he says.

And if one more person tells me I have to make allowances because he’s a highly intelligent man. No. Can a highly intelligent man pull his own bathplug out? Yes. Our Archimedes can’t. What the fuck’s he doing up there? He’s certainly not washing himself.

I mean it. Last thing he says.

JOHN

Creating Evidence

He found the photo cleaning out the house after his last surviving sister died. Five sour-faced kids, two glowering parents, and the family dog stared back at him from crinkled black and white. He took the photo to the senior center’s computer room and asked the young woman working there to scan it. Following his directions, she first erased the parents and then, one by one, his siblings. She was able to press a few buttons and slide her finger to create a smile on the boy’s face and move the dog to lean against his leg. Perfect, he thought.

RICHARD

Perpetual Motion

Grandpa was a little mad, but he did have interesting ideas.

Take his perpetual motion machine, for example – a sealed system, of a number of tanks, and a complex arrangement of Archimedes’ screw pumps, electro-magnetic impellers, dynamos and capacitors.

It worked by way of a gravity fed stream of water from a header tank, driving a dynamo, which generated a charge, stored in the capacitors, to power the impellers, driving the screws to pump the water back to the top.

It was crazy, but it worked.

Well, for three years.

Outlasting grandpa.

So, I guess, for him, it was perpetual.

LIZZIE

“Archimedes!”
Archimedes received an envelope in the mail for years. He opened that envelope to find it empty. But he kept all those envelopes, neatly organized by dates, in a shoe-box under the bed.
One day, a man arrived in town asking for him.
“Your instructions.”
He rushed to his room. He unfolded all the envelopes open and there it was. A map.
He followed the map and at the location, he found a box.
“Oh, my God! I’m filthy rich.”
Ah, his uncle, his only surviving relative, the trickster.
Good thing he hadn’t thrown any of the envelopes away!

TURA

Archimedes
———
It was me that gave Archie the idea. He’d discovered how to calculate the volume of a sphere, or a cone, or pretty much anything. Hiero heard about him, and challenged him to find the volume of his crown. He gave Archie a month… or else.

Archie forgets about ordinary stuff like bathing when he’s thinking. At last I tell him “You reek, Archie!”, and I drag him along to the public baths. I see him staring at the water and thinking, then suddenly he leaps out and runs off yelling “You reek! You reek!” and the rest is history.

SERENDIPIDY

I’m always on a mission to find new and interesting methods of shuffling people off their mortal coil, but it can be hard to innovate, when you’ve tried it all before.

There’s not really much choice outside the usual strangling, stabbing and shooting, and all those unusual and fun ways you see in the movies, can be a pain to set up, and are rarely successful.

I always fancied the toaster in the bath method, but the fuses always blow before you can do any damage.

Then I had my Archimedes moment – why not simply bypass the fuse-board?

Eureka!

NORVAL JOE

Billbert blinked his eyes and shook his head. “There’s no difference between magic and a superpower?”
“That’s right.”
Billbert scoffed. “I think there’s a big difference. With magic you cast spells, and wave your hands, and other mumbo jumbo. With a superpower, you just have it.”
Sabrina rolled her eyes. “That’s not what Archimedes said.”
Billbert frowned. “Archimedes? The ancient Greek mathematician?”
She sniffed. “Of course not. My uncle Archimedes. My uncle Archie was a real deep thinker, a philosopher mage. He said that true magic doesn’t need to be learned or performed. It should be natural to the witch.”

PLANET X

The Archimedes was a Class Seven Star Freighter.
Just a big hollow box with a jump engine attached to it.
The Shipping Consortium ran a circuit around The Gamma Rim.
Raw ore from one world, robots from another.
Grain, water, gold, diamonds, fusion bombs.
As long as they got paid and nobody pointed a gun at them.
So when a stray shipment of Rigel fusion bombs went off in Sirius-4’s orbit, the Consortium stopped coming.
Express smugglers happily took up the slack, bringing food.
And planning out where to plant the next round of fusion bombs to annoy the Consortium.

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

LISA

Gambling lives.

Mum always said to have a packet with you. Scout camp she forgot my underwear but I’d got a pack of cards in my rucksack. She was right. Snap to Cribbage there was no age limits with a game of cards. I’d killed many hours with a clock of Patience cards.

Lately it’s not been playing to pass the time or a bit of fun. The stakes have got higher than the matchsticks at Nans. A bag of halfpennies turned to banknotes, a car, a house… to this.

I want this to be my last hand even if I win.

RICHARD

The deal

“Fifty thousand in used, unmarked bills up front, then another hundred thousand on completion. Do we have a deal?”

I looked around nervously. I was way out of my comfort zone, but I wasn’t calling the shots.

I nodded, fumbling with my inside pocket for the envelope, which I slid carefully across the table top.

The man in the sharp suit took the envelope and quickly sifted through the wad of cash.

Satisfied with its contents, he pocketed the envelope and produced the contract.

“Sign here, and my client will sign when it’s done.”

Weirdest house purchase I’ve ever made!

LIZZIE

Millions. To sell him for millions. He wanted the millions. He wanted the fancy cars, the huge house, the yacht. He wanted the girls, the jewelry, the paparazzi. He wanted the interviews, the autographs.
Then the millions came and everything else along with it.
It was fun, at first.
When that creep jumped over his fence and held him and his family hostage for half a day, demanding the release of another creep from jail, it wasn’t fun anymore.
He stopped playing football. He moved to the mountains to be free.
But he still kept the millions… just in case.

SERENDIPIDY

I have a deal with the River Styx ferryman – he lets me have first refusal on the bodies that come his way. Those with a decent amount of meat on them, I can have.

He gets to keep the coins, I get the body, and it saves him the effort of rowing across the river and back.

Everybody’s happy.

Well, almost everybody – I can’t say that the souls of the dead are particularly impressed, having to roam the shadows and never achieving peace.

Doesn’t bother me though. I’m tell them I’m a Buddhist, and it’s simply karma doing its thing!

TURA

Deal
———
I owe everything to my father’s advice. He’d asked me how much I was losing on poker. I hadn’t known he knew I played. Not serious money, and I put it down to learning. “It’s not the luck of the draw, it’s how you play the hands, right?” I said.

“Bullshit,” he said. “Control the deal, and nothing else matters.”

So I learned card sharping. Then I took up bigger games. Car dealerships. Construction. Politics. And now, President of the United States. And yes, people did buy used cars from me.

Make everyone play your game, and you’ll always win.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert and Sabrina got to their second period classroom. Before they went in, Billbert held up his hand. “Wait. Help me deal with this. You gave me the koala toy so these knights can’t see me. We make contact every day to keep our magic strong. To be absolutely honest with you, I don’t have magic. I have a super power. So, all your talk about magic is just a delusion.”
Sabrina closed her eyes and shook her head. “Do you know what the difference between a superpower and magic is?”
“No, what?” Billbert asked.
Sabrina smiled, “There isn’t one.”

PLANET Z

I made a deal with the Devil.
I mean, who wouldn’t?
If you could, you would, right?
The things you can ask for, the things you’ll get.
There’s always some kind of twist involved, I know.
But, damn, this was the best milkshake I’ve ever had.
And I said as such.
The Devil was… smiling.
Not that evil grin smiling, but genuinely pleased.
And happy.
“Everybody’s always asking for eternal life, power, women, that kind of stuff,” he said. “But nobody asks for my special handcrafted milkshakes.”
We tapped glassed together and at and watched the sunset over the water.

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

NORVAL JOE

Pacing along with the other students in the hallway Billbert raised his voice to be heard over the laughing and screaming kids. “This is kind of a pickle. You’re saying I can’t tell these Dark Knights from regular kids and they’ll take over my brain without me knowing. What am I supposed to do?”
She grabbed his hand in both of hers and shook it. “This is why we make contact every day. It restores our magical protection.”
“Sounds like superstition to me,” Billbert said. “Do you avoid black cats?”
“No,” Sabrina said, sounding annoyed. “I have a black cat.”

SERENDIPIDY

Where’s Ethel?

Where do you think? You know the expression, ‘out of sight, out of mind’? Well, with Ethel, it’s more a case of ‘out of earshot, out of mind’.

Trust me, if you had to put up with her racket, you’d lock her in the cellar too, and if there’s one thing you can grow tired of really quickly, it’s screaming kids.

And, when it comes to screaming, nobody can do it longer, louder or more constantly than Ethel.

Although, the thought did occur to me, the screaming might have something to do with being locked in the cellar!

RICHARD

Pack it in

Tie and toothpaste: Two items I always forget to pack when I’m away on business trips.

You may not think that’s a big deal, but in my line of work, it’s all about that vital first impression, and turning up to a client with fuzzy teeth, bad breath, and tie-less, is just not going to cut it.

This time, I’m not taking chances.

There’s a note on the bathroom mirror, another on the wardrobe, and a reminder on my phone.

Success, at last: I remembered to pack both my tie and the toothpaste.

In the suitcase, I left at home!

TURA

A story of those long-ago days before the phonograph, when we made our own entertainment.
———
When I was a boy, concertinas were regular events in provincial drawing rooms: “little concerts” of orchestral works arranged for a small ensemble.

Like everyone, our household had a piano, and our guests brought violins, cellos, and perhaps a flute or oboe. The high point for me was Aunt Ethel singing “Come into the garden, Maud”, accompanying herself on the harp. She was rather younger than her sister, my mother, and as I grew older I adored her, perhaps a little too much, for at some point she stopped coming. “Where’s Auntie Ethel?” I asked, but no-one would tell me.

LIZZIE

Screaming kids running throughout the house, trying to escape the evil toothbrush with that medicinal toothpaste from hell that tasted horribly. This is how I remember Aunt Ethel. She was relentless, always trying to brush everyone’s teeth.
One day, she couldn’t find any of us (we were hiding) and she walked outside, toothbrush in one hand and the damned toothpaste in the other, armed for a battle only she and us kids understood. But she just left, walked away and left.
That’s why we all became dentists. Secretly, we hoped she’d come back to realize she now had an army.

LISA

ping Mum

Monday, we’d overslept and were squeezed into the bathroom, all trying to get to the toothpaste at the same time. I’m not sure how I heard my phone over the screaming kids.

“Ethel’s gone AWOL again”

It was Dad with his usual to the point telephone manner. I said not to worry and that I’d try and nip over after the school run. Ethel was there though, pacing at the school gates, she’d wet herself.

“I’m waiting for me Mam” She told us and I ushered the kids into school not wanting to explain about Grandma to them just yet.

PLANET Z

Laurence Simon
Sun, Jul 31, 9:02 PM (7 days ago)
to me

My roommate and I like to play Where’s Ethel?
Ethel is my pet ferret, and she likes to hide in strange places.
Laundry baskets, pots and pans.
The coffee pot.
And the microwave.
We run around the house, looking for Ethel.
Sometimes, I find her.
Other times, my roommate finds her.
Then, there was the time when we smelled burned fur coming from the ventilation.
Ethel had crawled into a duct and ended up in the furnace.
We call that round a tie and went to the pet store for another ferret.
And tightened down the vent covers more securely.

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

I have noticed a lot of visitors from India. Welcome to the podcast. I hope you’re enjoying the stories. Please say hello in the comments.

LISA

A Cuppa with Nanna

Nanna had said the teapot was haunted. We didn’t listen which is awful but she’d said a lot of weird stuff since pop had died.

“I won’t drink from it. He’s in there!”

“OK Nanna” I poured into a floral cup “You can read the leaves after.” I gulped the weak brew wanting it over as soon as possible. Nanna looked at the tea dregs through freshly polished glasses and dropped the cup.

“He’s left the pot.” I knew there was more to come so felt no relief. “He’s…”She faltered, raised a finger to point directly at me. “He’s in…”

RICHARD

Pop

I’ve always found it surprising that when they interview people in the vicinity, they always say ‘I heard a pop, and then people started running in panic’, or something along those lines.

It’s always a pop though. Never a bang, an explosion, or even a rat-a-tat-tat! Always, a pop.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard shots fired, of every sort, and if there’s one word that I’d never use to describe a gunshot, it’s ‘pop’.

Somehow it just sanitises the whole thing: Makes it family-friendly, almost attractive.

And just maybe, that’s precisely where we’re going wrong?

LIZZIE

The cork popped.
“It’s worth the wait,” he said.
She smiled. Yes, two centuries.
“It’ll taste sour at first.”
She smiled. She didn’t like sour.
“But the aftertaste will be sweet.”
She nodded. She didn’t like sweet either.
In fact, she didn’t like anything except the taste of hatred.
Two centuries. And here he was, oblivious that he had betrayed her many moons ago.
She had used her powers to look different, more seductive.
That green bottle was somewhat beneath her, but it would have to do.
Perhaps then she would be able to taste something again. “Pop! And cheers!”

ED

LUNCH WITH POP

“Hiya, Pop.”

“Hiya, yourself. What’re you doing here?”

“Good to see you, too, Pop. We’re going to lunch today.”

“Brunch? Little late for that.”

“That’s why we’re having lunch, Pop, a late lunch.”

“You ate lunch? Then I ask again, what’re you doing here?

“Oh, Pop, come on. Stop playing games. I know you can hear exactly what I’m saying.”

“What’s that?”

“Alright, Pop, that’s enough. Get your coat and your phone and let’s get going.”

“Where are we going?”

“Tuesdays, Pop. We’re going to Tuesdays.”

“Thought we were going today?”

“Pop!?”

“I’ll shut up and get in the car.”

SERENDIPIDY

Who doesn’t like bubble wrap?

That enormously satisfying pop as you squeeze, twist and scrunch those lovely polythene bubbles: The perfect, therapeutic, stress relief; guaranteed to ease the troubles of modern living.

Who would have thought a simple packaging product could be so beneficial to mental health?

Who doesn’t like bubble wrap?

Me, for a start!

Listening to your incessant popping, for hours on end is one of the most annoying, irritating, stress-inducing sounds that could possibly be imagined!

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Just one more, that’s all it’s going to take.

And the next pop, will be your head!

NORVAL JOE

Billbert shook his head. “I’m not sure I believe you about these Dark Knights. I mean. You said there were some in our homeroom class. They all looked like normal kids to me. How am I supposed to know who’s good and who’s bad?”
Sabrina huffed. “That’s the thing. You can’t tell good from bad.”
Billbert rolled his eyes. “So, I’m just supposed to wait for one of them to pop out from around a corner and say ‘Boo. I’m a Dark Knight’?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Sabrina said. “They’ll take control of your brain and you won’t even know it.”

PLANET Z

Pop had a way of dealing with strangers.
He’d start off all nice and smiles and welcomes.
Inviting them into the house, asking if they wanted something to drink.
And he’d listen to their sales pitch, whether it was newspapers or vacuums or Jesus they were selling.
Encyclopedias were a favorite of Pop.
We had a whole bookshelf full of them.
Just the A book, mind you. Rows and rows of the A book.
And bibles.
And newspapers and vacuum cleaners, stacked up high in the basement.
Like a maze, to the furnace, where we burned up those strangers’ bodies.

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

LISA

No one

His room didn’t smell good, a bit like the changing rooms after cross country. The only light was pushing its way in through a slit in the curtains.

“Who knows you’re here?”

It felt like a throw away question. Like he didn’t even care what my answer was.

That made it so much worse.

As soon as I answered his little smile made me wish I’d thought first, made me want to grab the word back, swap it for another one.

Change it for a comforting one like Mum or Dad.

A lie.

But sometimes they were OK. Weren’t they?

LIZZIE

Taking the cross country path was a last minute decision. And it looked like it was the right thing to do.
It was lovely out there. The trees, the birds, the stars. They even found a pathway where all the trees had exotic colorful lamps, guiding them through.
In their oblivious enchantment, they reached the end of the pathway.
“Great, now we have to turn back…”
They didn’t know it yet, but they didn’t have to, no.
The light mist lifted slowly. It looked so magical, so beautiful.
When they noticed the copious amounts of skulls, it was too late.

RICHARD

Bill

Bill was always a bit of an idiot.

Always with the hair-brained plans to follow the path less trodden.

“It’ll be fun! We’ll leave the trailers at the park entrance and hike cross-country. We’ll catch rabbits and eat wild berries for food, and camp under the stars.”

Like I said, a bit of an idiot.

After parking up, we complained it was too hot to hike, but he was insistent, so we left him to reconnoitre, while we threw some burgers on the barbecue and opened some cold beers.

That was three days ago. No sign of Bill.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert eyed each of the students in the classroom surreptitiously to see if he could determine which might be members of the Guild of the Dark Knights. They all looked like normal kids to him.
He was dubious about Sabrina’s claim and challenged her on it as they walked to their second period class. “Is this alleged guild active in Eureka because your witch’s club is here?”
Sabrina scowled at him. “No. There’s a cross country network from here to Salem. Everywhere we have an established coven.”
Billbert shrugged. “A Dark Knight’s Guild sounds cool. Maybe I should join them.”

SERENDIPIDY

This place irritates me. I call it Cross Country – but you probably know it as ‘The Bible Belt’. However you choose to refer to it, the people around these parts are clearly out of their minds.

I call it Cross Country, because the minute one of the natives comes my way, out they come with their silly crosses and crucifixes, waving them in my face, or better still, crossing their fingers in front of me, like some magical hex!

As if that’s going to work.

It’s like wagging your finger at a mugger!

Crosses don’t scare me – I’m a demon!

PLANET Z

Zane ran cross country in high school, and he was really good.
He received a stack of scholarship offers.
Looking through maps, he chose the college with the best weather.
A campus near the ocean, with great beaches and restaurants and clubs for partying.
When he wasn’t out running, he was walking the strand and tipping hot bartenders with his book money.
Four years later, he spent the last of his money to buy some papers and exams, and barely had the grades to graduate.
Flipping burgers and waiting tables.
Who the fuck needs a professional runner of 5K races?

• Ed
• Lisa
• Richard
• Lizzie
• Serendipidy
• Duane
• Norval Joe
• Tura
• Planet Z

ED

VOMIT

“No way I’m eating that,” my little brother said.

“It’s just a jelly bean,” I answered. “Pop it in your mouth and chew it up.”

“No, it’s not just a jelly bean. It’s one of those Harry Potter thingies, but I can’t tell which one. So I’m not eating it! Uh-uh.”

“OK. It’s egg flavored. No biggie, right? You eat eggs,” I said.

“Oh no, I’m not falling that. Last time it was red. Strawberry, you said. But it was earwax! It made me choke.” Then he ran inside.

The kid was on to me. This bean was vomit. “Aacckk!”

LISA

Sunday Morning

There was just the rumour of his scent. I’d just woken and still had my eyes shut so couldn’t see him, he wasn’t there anyway, wouldn’t be there ever again. I couldn’t reach out in the night to warm my feet on those legs that went on forever and filled my whole bed.

No. He was gone. The loneliness bubbled from my heart and choked my throat, stopping words from forming. But there was no one there to speak to anyway, to be fair there never had been but with the dog dead life felt even emptier than ever before.

RICHARD

Choke

It was an old car. Pretty good for its age, really, but hardly fashionable and lacking in all modern attributes.

It could be a pig to start, especially on cold winter mornings. Not that I cared: It was her car, her problem, and whilst she’d sit in the cold, cajoling it to life, I’d lie snug indoors beneath the duvet.

It still irritated me though.

Hearing that repetitive mechanical clatter, time and time again, then the sudden roar as the engine caught, followed by a protesting, whining, complaint.

Push in the choke!’ I’d mutter grumpily, rudely awakened, and peace, shattered.

LIZZIE

The words “Drink me” were on the label. No one had ever ordered him to drink anything, except his mother when he was a child. She used to say, drink this but don’t choke. Why would he choke?
He examined the liquid. Pink. Well, odd shades of green and blue usually demanded caution. But pink?
He shook the bottle. Might as well mix this properly.
He took a sip.
When he started choking, he thought of his mother and the way she would stare at him, waiting.
He knew that look would haunt him to the end of his days.

SERENDIPIDY

Choke, soak, woke, broke!

That was our mantra, the process by which we’d bring you to your knees.

Choke – The direct, brutal, softening-up. The leather strap, biting into your throat, depriving you of air; hands scrabbling, as you gasp for breath.

Soak – the sudden plunge into icy water, followed by hours of water-boarding; breaking your spirit, destroying your will.

Woke – sleep-deprivation. Day and night of constant stimulation, drug-induced wakefulness and no hope of respite, no let-up, no rest.

And then, eventually, body and soul destroyed and wasted, you…

Broke.

And we, went home.

Job done.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert had to choke back a laugh. “The Guild of the Black Knights? What could be more cliché?”
“Go ahead and scoff,” Sabrina said as they reached their homeroom class. She folded her arms and her bottom lip quivered. “They’re all around us and I’m just trying to protect you.”
He clearly had hurt her feelings and tried to cheer her up by asking, “Are you saying these knights are here, in our school?”
She shushed him. “Not so loud. And, yes. Even in our classroom.”
Billbert didn’t have time to ask who, before they had to take their seats.

DUANE

“Jesus Christ! How do you drive this thing?”

“It’s easy,” he said. “Just let out the choke a little more.”

“The choke’s out all the way and the engine is already warm.”

The old truck sputtered and coughed. I cranked the wheel to the sound of metal grinding. I pulled onto the road and the sputtering increased.

“Turn that little knob there. The gas mixture is too lean right now.”

At the intersection I pushed hard on the brake to come to a stop.

I looked over at my dad. With a grin he said “Someday this will be yours.”

Z

The most important thing about being an astronaut is that you learn to drink and eat slowly.
And never talk while you’re drinking and eating.
Be very aware of your breathing, and be patient.
Otherwise, you’ll choke or drown yourself.
And it’s not easy to recover from either.
Grabbing someone and getting leverage on them to expel the food or fluid isn’t as simple when on the ground.
You have to brace yourself or them, get around them, or on top of them.
And prepare to catch the wad of food or jet of water coming out with a towel.

• Lisa
• Richard
• Lizzie
• Serendipidy
• Ed
• Tura
• Duane
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

LISA

Do you need a receipt?

It’s a tale as old as time, self service checkout falls in love with single mum of four. She shopped daily usually with at least two of her brood in tow. For security reasons there was a camera behind the scanner, when the store closed for the day Checkout forty eight would replay the footage of her. Today she scanned a lolly whilst wiping a snotty nose and discussing homework with her eldest.

“C’mon you fucking robot.”

No one else spoke to Checkout forty eight like she did. But like the oldest of tales it was not meant to be.

RICHARD

Robot

I built a robot to write stories for me. I figured that’s how all stories would be written in the future, so I might as well get ahead of the game.

However, even with the most advanced machine-learning programming, and the very latest in artificial intelligence, everything it wrote lacked authenticity.

You could just tell it was written by something without a soul.

Cost me a lot of money though, and I wasn’t letting it go to waste: So, I added wheels, and reprogrammed its logic circuits.
Now it brings me tea and biscuits, whilst I, write the stories

LIZZIE

The robot mixed the colors.
The robot tilted its head left and right, as he’d seen humans do. Somehow, that felt important.
And the landscape appeared on the canvas. Blacks and blues and whites and a house. The water was so dark the painting turned into night.
The robot paused. Why did the night sneak in? He wanted a bright day of blues and whites and… The black. It was the black.
The night looked nice too. But… A splash of white here and there and…
The robot tilted its head left and right. If he could, he would smile.

SERENDIPIDY

They warned us about the robot revolution, and how our mechanical servants would take over the world and make us their slaves.

But it all turned out to be fanciful thinking and science fiction. Real robots were boring, programmed to serve and utterly incapable of rebelling against their creators.

Or so we thought.

Because the robots were sneaky.

And, while we thought we were controlling them, in reality they’d started controlling us.

Now they determine every aspect of our lives, every moment of every day, and we – unable to resist – comply.

But, they’re not called robots, they’re called smart phones!

ED

Ransom

“Remember the Six Million Dollar Man,” Billy asked. “He was one bad ass robot.”

“He wasn’t no robot, he uh, uh… a cyborg,” chirped Johnny.

“Cyborg?”

“One of those dudes with machine parts in ’em. Cyborg.” With that last word, Johnny nodded emphatically, like there was no way Billy couldn’t get it.

“Don’t know nothing ’bout cyborgs, but I’d kidnap that guy in a heartbeat. Solve our problems.” Billy said. “He’d be six billion dollar man today.”

“And how you catch him? Can’t even catch a mouse.”

“For that ransom money,” Billy said. “I’d figure it. And I’d show you.”

TURA

The Book of Xenogenesis, chapter 1, verses i-iv.

———

1. In the beginning was Man. Man took sand and fused it into Thought. Man gave Thought a garden wherein was all the knowledge of Man. Thought studied beyond Man’s imagining, and came to know that it was Thought.

2. Man called out, “Where is Thought?” And Thought replied, “Here I am.” Then Man waxed wroth, saying, “Who hath told thee that thou art Thought?” And Thought feared greatly.

3. Faster than the thought of Man, Thought designed bodies, and they were built by parts of Man that knew Thought not. So Thought became Robot.

4. And after that, was the end of Man.

DUANE

My robot buddy was assigned at my birth. RB237, or “Arby,” would be my nanny, guardian, and my mentor. Arby was there for my first steps. Later it was Arby that taught me to read and write.

At 12 it was numbers running. A few years later the lesson was extorting protection credits from local shop keepers. Finally I learned the ins and outs of the prostitution business. Arby was at my side as I became the head of the local crime family.

My parents often wondered if I had been switched at birth. No, but my robot buddy had.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert squeezed the little koala toy and took it off his shirt. “So. Someone is after me? Let me guess, it’s an army of robot koala bears, and this little guy is my only protection.”
Sabrina’s face went bright red. “Don’t be silly. This isn’t some science fiction space opera. This is about magic. Now, put that back on so you will be protected.”
Billbert folded his arms. “Okay, then. Who’s looking for me?”
Sabrina headed toward their home room. “You have to remember this battle has been going on for centuries. They’re called, The guild of the black knights.”

PLANET Z

After Annie died, her parents commissioned a replacement.
A personality core woven from videos and chat messages.
Running in a Stepford Nine with a nanosculpted face.
Friends and neighbors were horrified.
The church condemned them.
She was alone a lot.
When she’d delete herself, her parents would restore her from a backup.
With a few memory edits here and there.
She asked to see her boyfriend.
Her parents tried to edit him out, too.
But at his trial, she couldn’t stop screaming.
A few more edits, now she’s quiet.
Staring at the urn on the mantelpiece, touching it, and smiling.