Category: Weekly Challenge

Grandpoisoner

My grandfather ran a chain of drycleaning stores.
Buttons would fall off of the clothes, and we’d get boxes of shiny buttons of so many colors and shapes and sizes.
We’d also get maids who’d “retired” from the drycleaning stores.
All were old and sick, and none lasted longer than a month or two.
My grandfather eventually lost all the drycleaners.
He’d been sued into ruin because his workers were all dying from carbon tetrachloride poisoning.
And he was too, leaving my grandmother destitute and reputation ruined.
I remember sorting those buttons.
Now, I wonder if they were poisoned too.

Weekly Challenge #1017 -A melted chocolate bar

The next topic is PICK TWO
It burns!
Fare
Value-added
Horse glue
Evolution

NORVAL JOE

The Five Star Sister’s coven sat around a campfire in the sand. Waves crashed on the shore a dozen yards away as they toasted marshmallows and assembled smores.

After an hour of enjoying the tasty trifecta of graham cracker, marshmallow, and melted chocolate bar, one of the women said, “Do you hear that sound?”

“I can’t hear a thing, Marsha,” another replied.

“That’s just it.” Marsha said, stood and looked at the ocean.

Where waves had been crashing on the shore was only wet sand and seaweed. The ocean had withdrawn a hundred yards out to sea.

“Uh oh,” Marsha said.

TOM

The dwarf, the elf, the man, and the Wizard noted the swinging sign over
the ramshackle tavern. The elf asked: “Safe?!” The wizard replied: “Seem
so.” Upon entering the drinking establishment the man inquired about the
lore concerning the name outside the door. A world-weary barkeep said:
“We have an agreement with the arch-mage of the School of Magic
Confections to serve their student magus.” Just then a misspoke chant
rose from a table. The room was engulfed in Sugar Fire. All within were
completely covered in brown goo. Aye Melting Chocolate Bar. Licking a
finger the dwarf said: “sweet”

SERENDIPIDY

By the time I was done, his face resembled a melted chocolate bar.
That is, if you like your chocolate burned, bloody and full of broken bone fragments.
Coming to think of it, maybe a melted chocolate bar was a poor analogy. Think instead of that end scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark, when those Nazis had their faces blasted away when the ark was opened.
Either way, you get the general idea, right?
Did he have it coming? Probably not; he just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
Right time for me though!

LIZZIE

With a melted chocolate bar, he said. The barista turned around. Melted? Yes, his teeth, he mumbled. I don’t want to be judgmental, she said, but perhaps chocolate isn’t a good option. He shrugged. With milk, please. She grabbed a chocolate bar from the counter and dropped it in the cup with hot milk. Anything else? No, he said. Are you OK? He smiled the saddest smile she had ever seen. Go sit down, now, I’ll come over and chat. I’ll even make a melted chocolate bar cup of milk for me! And this is why he’s still alive today.

LISA

The Joy of New Jeans.
I’ve been shopping. I got new jeans. White! I know… who even am I? Anyway, I’m feeling great. I think it’s changed the way I’m walking or my expression or something because it feels like everyone’s staring as I walk for the bus.
I’m sure I heard them whispering about me when I got off the bus too. I think I must be imagining it. I mean, it’s just a pair of jeans. Right?
When I get home I realise people have been talking: a melted chocolate bar has somehow spread it’s delight all over the back of the jeans.

RICHARD

— Melted —
I’ve never understood people who keep their chocolate in the fridge, and I can’t abide it.
For me, chocolate should be served at room temperature, better still, slightly above -soft and creamy- just on the point of melting.
And let’s not stop there. The ultimate indulgence for me is to pop a piece in my mouth, and let it slowly melt over my tongue.
Sometimes, I’ll stuff a bar in my pocket, just to bring it up to the perfect temperature for eating.
But, often I forget it’s there.
And end up with a melted chocolate bar.
Best thing ever!

PLANET Z

Some people credit Perry Spencer for inventing the microwave oven.
He was a Raytheon employee who noticed that microwaves from a radar set he was working on melted a candy bar he had in his pocket.
Later, he tested the effect on popcorn, and then on an egg.
Other engineers performed experiments and confirmed Perry’s findings.
They worked up a proposal and brought it to management.
Who rejected it.
“What fool wants to be cooking food in their pockets?”
It’s when they put the food in a bowl and inside a box with the microwaves that the management were convinced.

Weekly Challenge #1016 – Listed

The next topic is A melted chocolate bar

SARAH

I’ve always been ambitious, one who sets their sights on achieving the almost impossible, and my current objective could be challenging.
You see, I’m determined to get myself listed on the FBI’s most wanted list.
The competition is stiff, but I reckon I’m up to the task, it’s just a matter of coming up with the right strategy.
Should I become a serial killer, a terrorist, a cyber-criminal or fraudster?
So many interesting options, it makes it hard to decide.
Consequently, there’s really only one choice as far as I’m concerned.
I’ll simply have to do the whole lot!

LISA

Doing their bit for charity
Pete’s latest Charity shop find was an old looking pottery Spaniel. The volunteer laughed saying they’d had another one donated overnight.
A pair! He nearly dropped it in his excitement.
“I’ll take the other one too!” and haggled the price down.
He listed the pair on eBay as soon as he got home. The final bid was four figures.
A disgruntled buyer contacted Pete a week later – the Maker’s Marks had rubbed off so he’d reported Pete for selling fakes.
Pete’s account was closed immediately but the mystery donor continued adding clever little sharpie marks to their items before donating.

LIZZIE

Not listed?! He was furious. They had rejected his book. Years of work had been snubbed by pseudo-intellectuals who had nothing better to do than to scalpel every detail of his story. Yes, he got the color of his main character’s eyes wrong once, so? We could argue that it was a matter of perception, a symbolic overview of the character’s rage. But no, they had rejected his masterpiece without a second thought. Breathe in and out. Calm down. He stood at the door of the jury room, holding a katana and thinking he’d do much better than his character.

TOM

The Grand Index

“Mr. Franklin you don’t seem to be listed in Category B,” stated the clerk. “Please try Cat C,“ replied the priest. Lines scrolled across the screen. “Not there, Father. Should I go into File 140?” A quiet nod and the clerk open the iron cabinet. A shuffle of folders. “Nope not there. I think we’ll need to go down in the cellar and check the parchments. Down the marble slabs. The clerk unrolled the oldest sheep-skin. “Here. It says check the Stone. With flashlight in hand the two enter the crypt. On the Great Arch was the rune for Franklin.

NORVAL JOE

“If I listed every way their competition has complicated our efforts, it would take all night,” the man growled. “Suffice it to say, the Black Knights are malicious enough to rule the pacific northwest all on our own.”

The man seemed happy enough to brag about his capabilities that Billbert tried to keep him talking. “How could Sabrina do anything to them, wherever they are.”

“We know where they are right now.” He grinned. “A little wave from Sabrina might crash on the beach. But with your help, a tsunami will wipe them away.”

PLANET Z

We’ve been working around the clock to get the app ready for launch. Last minute testing and design changes, the beta program brought in a few more bugs and tweaks. Letting it run for a while, confirm that it was stable and working. Everyone gathered in the auditorium as the timer counted down and when it hit zero, everything stopped and then vanished.

Fred halted the worker processes and ran the image duplicator. The software development team artificial intelligence module is a complete success, bug free, and he knew he’d never have to write another program for himself ever again.

Weekly Challenge #1015 – Five stars

The next topic is Listed

RICHARD

— Star quality —
We started rating the kids’ chores around the house: one to five stars.
It’s gives them an incentive to do things well, and the number of stars they get is reflected in their pocket money.
It’s working well. Dishes are always washed, bedrooms are kept remarkably clean and tidy and any time there’s an errand to be run, there’s no shortage of volunteers.
In fact, it’s worked so well, I suggested using the system for the wife.
Meals, cleaning, shopping and so on, all rated, and rewarded with… sex.
“Can’t see the point” she responded, “You’re two stars, at best!”

LIZZIE

Five stars for what, crappy food?
The food was not bad, said the receptionist.
No? What about that horrid thing on the wall?
The receptionist looked up at the bull head skull. It was a sculpture, not the real deal. Besides, continued the receptionist, we are not in the business of eating the decor.
Insolent! The client’s always right!
Not here. You see, sir, here we rate the clients, not the other way around, and you are a 0.
What?!
Would you like the bull head skull wrapped to take, so you remember us, since we won’t allow you back?

SERENDIPIDY

Five stars, shining brightly in the night sky, never seen before, not part of any known constellation.
They gleam and twinkle more brightly than any other. What could they be?
Meteors? Asteroids? Comets, perhaps?
Or maybe they aren’t natural at all.
They could be satellites or space debris, burning up in the atmosphere as they fall to earth.
They aren’t satellites, although they are man-made.
But who made them? That’s the big question
Was it the Russians? Are they Chinese? Could they be American or from distant North Korea?
We’ll find out, soon enough.
Once they hit their targets.

TOM

The Game

The rules were simple. Five cities. Five riddles. Five Stars. You could have five members on your team. And most importantly was the Five hundred thousand dollars. Linda was the first to figure out New York was the first city to explore. Better she had narrowed it do to a particular area in what was once Five Points. An old map showed that once there was a body of water in the city. “We find the center of the Collection Pond we will find the star.” Said Linda. Bill asked “Any idea what it will look like?” Not a Clue.

NORVAL JOE

“You’re going to do us a favor,” a gruff voice said from behind Patrick.

“You’re the shooter from the meadow,” Billbert said when the man stepped into view. “You should be in prison.”

He just sniffed. “Your friend is going to help us obliterate the Five Star Sisters and their coven. They’ve interfered with the Black Knights for the last time. We know your girlfriend is most powerful when you’re touching each other, so, you’re going to put your hand on Sabrina’s neck, and I’m going to tell Sabrina what to do.”

Billbert hesitated. “And what if I don’t cooperate?”

PLANET Z

Normally, when you see a movie with five stars, it’s probably some Hollywood woke garbage that ticks all the diversity boxes and hates Republicans, conservatives, Trump, religion. everything the left preaches. So when I saw a well-known conservative reviewer give one of those leftist propaganda movies five stars I was completely flabbergasted. I wrote him asking why, and he said, he thought the movie was a parody of leftism in a comedy and not actually trying to be serious and he laughed all through it at how ham-fistedly stupid the writer and director and actor all had been.

Weekly Challenge #1014 – PICK TWO Street life, Pox, Behind, That old classic…, Standard lamp

The next topic is Five stars

RICHARD

— Non-Standard —
Why do they call it a standard lamp? It’s anything but.
There’s a bewildering variety of the damm things… Edwardian, art deco, modern, minimalist, futuristic, or that old classic timeless design.
Do you want softwood, hardwood, metal or something more exotic? A contemporary stylish glass shade, or a big, old fashioned flowery one? Tungsten, LED, halogen…
Frankly, I can’t cope with the choice, I’m more than happy to simply grab the first one I see and get the hell outta here.
But, it’s the usual story – shopping with the wife, and she wants to know which one I prefer!

LISA

Being Neighbourly
I’d been waving at him for years – he was always in the same arm chair, with the standard lamp behind it, watching TV when I walked to and from work.
I could see the outline of his head, and I didn’t stare in – I’d never spoken to him so didn’t know if he liked me waving. He’d waved back sometimes though. And once you start something it’s hard to stop.
It was only when the flies had covered his window that I realised there was something wrong and for quite a while now I’d been waving at a dead man.

LIZZIE

Look behind the phone. There was nothing. It’s there, she said. But it wasn’t. And she giggled. That old classic… Made you look! She giggled again. And where is it? When she started giggling, he lost it. He was standing there, holding the damn phone, looking stupid, and she was making fun of him. On top of it all, the phone was yellow, the one color he couldn’t stand. I need that fucking code, right now. She bok-bok’ed and giggled some more. The next day, there was a headless chicken on her doorstep and no one saw her, ever again.

TOM

You need it, I know a Guy.

I love cities. You can feel the pulse of life in the movement of people and cars, an infinite random dance. In a great city on one particular street, the people will lay claim, and a culture of its own will emerge. For generations my family has been part of the Maxwell St. street-life. I have heard stories of my great grandfather sharping knifes for a nickel a blade. Since my people have climbed up the economic ladder there or on longer Kosick’s and Valor’s on Maxwell St. But life on the street goes on. Life always finds a way.

SERENDIPIDY

“Banish her”, they said.
Different village, same old story, that old classic “she’s got the pox”; reason enough to treat me like a pariah.
So much for compassion and the milk of human kindness.
They called a town meeting, just a formality really, the outcome a forgone conclusion: “she has to go”.
And so, like every other occasion, every other village, I find myself cast out, never to set foot within its boundaries again on pain of death.
So I’m going, and you’ll never see me again.
And yes, I have the pox.
But, so do all of you now!

NORVAL JOE

When a sack was pulled from Billbert’s head, a shadow of a person loomed before him, lit from behind by a single standard lamp in the otherwise dark room. He looked around the small room and saw Sabrina beside him, gagged, blindfolded, and headphones covering her ears.

“Sabrina,” Billbert shouted.

“Don’t waste your breath,” a familiar voice said. “She can only hear what I tell her.”

Billbert peered at the shadow form. “I know you. Patrick something, from school. What do you want from Sabrina, and me?”

Patrick laughed. “You two, together, are going to do me a little favor.”

PLANET Z

Victor had been a renowned chemist before the war. Somehow he survived two years in the camps. His wife and daughters didn’t. He went to the states, got married and had a son and never talked about the numbers on his arm. He ran the paint counter at a hardware store. Every now and then a guy would paint a swastika on his door. He knew who he was because he kept track of who was buying paint. He formulated a varnish for the outside of his front door. When mixed they made toxic fumes that blinded the evil painter.

Weekly Challenge #1013 – Random words

The next topic is PICK TWO
Street life
Pox
Behind
That old classic…
Standard lamp

RICHARD

Random Words
Every week I go through the same process.
I retrieve the old cardboard box from its place under my desk, give it a good hard shake, remove the lid and close my eyes.
Reaching into the box, I rifle around its contents and pull out a selection of folded postcards, and then I can open my eyes.
The postcards have a selection of random words written on them. I lay them out on the desk and rearrange them thoughtfully.
When I have what I’m looking for, I add some filler words.
And, hopefully, end up with a hundred word story.

LISA

The One That Got Away
She was delirious when I entered the woodcutter’s cottage. As ever I was amazed how cramped the space was with so many living in it. I clasped my scarf to my face; burned rosemary to try to cleanse the air.
She lay there, wet from the sweats, rambling random words. I couldn’t feel any lumps under her armpits so felt perhaps this time there was still hope.
I stayed just long enough to give her a draught to bring the fever down but made my decision to answer the King and to live at the palace ‘til this pestilence passed.

LIZZIE

‘I don’t… you… me’. This could mean anything, said the detective, where’s the rest of it? No one knew. Is this blood? No one knew that either. Did you search the rest of the house? That they did know. And? Nothing? Nope. How about the garden? Silence. OK, forget it. Send this to the lab. They all nodded, relieved. By the way, said the detective, I don’t care what you think about me. I’d fire the lot of you. Amateurs, thought the detective. Wait a second, what I just said… Perhaps these words are not as random as they look.

TOM

Without Merit

I have found no matter how vacuous two individual might be, if one passes by during any random collection of words that flow in the public space, those random words will sound pretty cogent. Lingering for additional context will help one to understand the form and purpose of the discourse, but nearly always leds one to question why matters so banal, merits the level and length of inquiry. Chalk-it up the mind-numbing list of stuff one needs to get done in the average day. Little time to ponder the deeper questions of life. As why isn’t any more penny candy?

SERENDIPIDY

They may sound like random words to you.
You may think I’ve made some of them up, or perhaps I’m speaking a foreign language.
What could they possibly mean?
Nobody really knows.
I certainly have no idea!
I found them in an old leather bound book, hidden away in my grandmother’s attic.
Many thought grandmother was a witch, and if the book is anything to go by, she quite definitely was.
You’ll see.
As I chant the mysterious words, you’ll start to feel very strange.
Until, with a poof of smoke… All of a sudden, you’ll turn into a frog!
—

NORVAL JOE

Mandi and Bobbie sat in the back while Mrs. Weinerheimer drove north out of Eureka.

A small gray-haired lady with dark glasses held both hands flat on top of her head and muttered random words, “Kelp, wind, stinkweed, bottlebrush, cardboard box, thunderhead.”

After passing windy beaches littered with piles of kelp, Mandi glanced out of the window, and shouted, “Over there.”

A single cloud rose above the low hills.

They quickly turned onto Bottlebrush Lane and drove until they came to a broken down cabin, the front yard crowded with weeds, and a tattered cardboard box rotting on the porch.

PLANET Z

If you stir alphabet soup enough, you’ll see words.
Usually short words, but the longer you stir, a few longer words will appear.
I imagine the noodles sloshing around in my stomach, forming words and sentences and poems nobody will know about.
Dissolving into goo as I digest them.
Maybe they’re not gone?
And somehow, subconsciously I absorb them.
And they make their way on to the page.
For me to read to you.
Or perhaps, if I stick my finger down my throat, they will appear on the page faster.
Stand back. I feel a masterpiece coming out now.

Weekly Challenge #1012 – Half-missing

The next topic is Random words

RICHARD

Pizza
There’s something deeply annoying about settling down on the sofa in front of the TV and reaching across to open the pizza box, only to find – horror of horrors – your pizza has half missing.
Your eyes scan the room, searching for the culprit.
It’s not the kids. There’s no tell-tale smudges of tomato on their cheeks; their hands are clean, and there’s no crumbs on their clothes.
It can’t be the wife: she hates olives – even the thought of picking them off makes her shudder. (That’s why you always order them!)
The cat?
No.
Must have been me then.

SERENDIPIDY

I’m half-missing him.
I don’t miss his temper tantrums, his unfaithfulness and the late nights when he’d roll unsteadily in, smelling of booze and slurring his words.
I don’t miss any of that.
I don’t miss the pitying looks given by my friends, and I certainly don’t miss his obnoxious buddies, with their wandering hands and bad attitudes.
And, I really don’t miss having to constantly apologise to others on his behalf.
You’d think I wouldn’t miss him at all.
But I can only half miss him.
Because I still keep the other half of him in my freezer.

LIZZIE

They roamed the garden, looking for the key.
Is it big, is it small? What exactly are we looking for?
Questions, questions, and more questions… A key, of course, everyone replied in unison, exasperation showing on their faces.
Suddenly, someone gasped. Found it!
OK, so, where’s the door?
Door?
Yes, the door.
No one knew.
So, why exactly were we looking for a key?! I thought we were looking for a key to the shed, that one.
Well, now we’ll be looking for a door.
Which door??
Why are some people so negative? You already have the key! Be happy!

NORVAL JOE

Mandi jumped up and headed toward the door. “We have to help those people. Especially Billbert.”

Bobbi didn’t move. “How do you think you’re going to do that?”

“Mrs. Weinerheimer has a coworker you who can find people…”

Mandi’s phone interrupted her. She answered it and listened.

She turned back to Bobbi. “Hurry. We have to go. Billbert’s mom says they’re halfway to finding them. We need to get closer before they’re completely gone.”

Bobby laughed, getting to her feet. “Does that mean they’re only half-missing right now?”

Mandi frowned in confusion before going outside to wait for Mrs. Weinerheimer.

TOM

All that remains is less then enough

If you are very fortunate you will have known someone for the major portion of your life. As that person would be whispering to me now the highest form of relationship is Friendship. Loves will come and go, but your best friend will be there when your heart is breaking. Jim died four years ago and I am half-missing the world about me. Many moments feel thin as if missing the joy that can only be found in a passing fleeting second shared. I come too quickly to the end of a sentence that falls to silence. I am half-missing.

PLANET Z

Harvey’s daughter had been gang raped and murdered by a pack of homeless illegals.
The horrible things people said on social media… the excuses that local activists spewed… the politicians defending the murderers and attacking their political rivals…
Harvey appeared to shrug it off.
He volunteered at homeless shelters, clothing drives, and food banks.
When Thanksgiving came around, he volunteered at the city’s annual turkey dinner.
The massive stadium filled to capacity with tables and chairs and all the food everyone could eat.
They haven’t said if it was ricin or polonium, but tens of thousands died along with Harvey.

Weekly Challenge #1011 – Ending

The next topic is Half-missing

RICHARD

— Final thoughts —
I’ve always fancied doing that thing where you write a half-finished piece of prose foretelling your own impending demise, solely with the intention of leaving it on your bedside cabinet, for discovery on the eventual event of your death.
“How did he know?” They’d exclaim.
“Was it a premonition? Was it fate?”
No, not at all, just a little bit of fun on my part and a cunning ruse to make my death somewhat more interesting that it might otherwise be.
I might even use this piece as my ‘final’ thoughts.
I think it could make a fitting ending.

LIZZIE

No ending, no story, delete it all, he said. She frowned. Why not keep what has been written so far and put it on the back burner for a while, perhaps they’d come up with a good ending later. No, no, no, delete it all, he said. She then snatched the laptop away from him. He elbowed her aside. She fell but stuck her leg out and he tripped. He grabbed the laptop cord and wrapped it around her neck. She punched him right in the face. Oddly enough, this was part of their creative process. One ending coming up.

SERENDIPIDY

Don’t think of this as an ending; consider it a beginning.
Certainly, there’s a finality to it… How could there not be?
Your breath will falter and fade, the colour will leave your face as your lifeblood drains away, your body will slump to the floor and your heart will cease beating.
You’ll die. It’s that simple.
It’s just a new beginning.
Soon, you’ll join me and commence a whole new chapter.
So, don’t be afraid.
Come to me and give me your neck to drink from.
And soon, you’ll join me in drinking the blood of our next victim.

LISA

Harvest
Orion was still watching over us; crisp leaves rustled above ready to fall. The menfolk had just cut the last sheaf standing in the harvested field. They’d called it the Maiden and thought the spirit of the harvest was inside it. So, before the sun came up, they’d thrown their scythes at it from a distance hoping to not upset their chances for next year’s harvest; it’d be made into corn dollies later. I joined the families on the field until the gleaning bell rang again at seven to tell us our time to gather any leftover grain was ending.

TOM

When it rain it rains ….

As a rule, I like my movies to have a happy ending. Boy gets girl. Bad guy gets whacked. Dance party as the credits roll. Sure, ¾ of the cast can die in the 2nd reel, but someone perky makes it through. Then there’s Pennies From Heaven. Both the British with Bob Hopkins and the American with Steve Martin a happy ending in spite of the fact it defies credibility. The only thing that could save our hero is an alibi from a once up-stand woman brought low by the hero himself. But Tom, is it a Musical after all.

NORVAL JOE

“What do you mean by people of power,” Mandi asked Bobbi.

Bobbi leaned back on the couch and stretched out her legs. “You know. Spiritual groups, like the one Sabrina was in, until her grandmother got killed. She and the old lady were the only ones with real magic. With her dead, that bunch fell apart.”

“The Black Knights were behind the shooting in the meadow?” Mandi asked.

“That’s right,” Bobby nodded. “Now, the knights are after a group in Arcadia and I think Patrick is using your friends to eliminate them. I can see them all ending up dead.”

PLANET Z

Lots of ribbons.
Lots of paper.
Coffee, crackers, and cheese.
Bentley pecked away at the typewriter for hours without interruption.
He didn’t bother with a wastebin… he just yanked out the bad pages and crumpled them up before he threw them on the floor.
Which would he run out of first… ribbons, paper, coffee, crackers, cheese?
Ideas. He ran out of ideas first.
Sitting there, staring at the blank page.
Another bite of a cheese cracker, sipping his coffee.
Sometimes, he would stack the crackers like cards.
And knock them down.
Stacking them again. And again.
But no ideas came.

Weekly Challenge #1010 – PICK TWO Dictionary, Game, Orchestra, Appreciated, Charge

The next topic is Ending

THOMAS

The old dictionary sat open on the table, pages fluttering as if alive. Clara turned it into a game, pointing at random words and weaving them into stories for her little brother. Tonight, she landed on orchestra. She closed her eyes and described violins tuning, drums thundering, a conductor ready to give the charge. Her brother listened wide-eyed, as though he truly heard the music filling their small kitchen. When she finished, he clapped, the applause soft but sincere. Clara smiled, feeling deeply appreciated. Sometimes, the grandest performances happened not on stage, but in the quiet corners of home.

LIZZIE

Twist my words, he said, play the game. Come on, do it. She replied she had the orchestra waiting. He laughed and said you can’t do it. You’re not strong enough. She remained silent. He continued to laugh and twist her words. She felt like saying, come on, do it, but she didn’t want to miss the right moment. He turned away to face the closed window. No one heard anything. No one saw anything. So, yes, she thought, she was strong enough to play the game. She dumped the weapon in the lake and the silencer in someone’s trash.

LISA

Holiday
We’d forgotten what rain was like; then we went on holiday and endured an endless drum on the caravan roof. A storm had knocked the electrics off and my phone was dead.
Everything felt too far away to leave our dry little sanctuary.
The windows steamed up and I wanted to sleep but the table we sat at was also my bed. They felt like desperate times we’d found a dictionary and tried to make up a word game.
The power returning felt like a miracle.
Then the sun returned too just as we loaded the car to go home.

TOM

Dictionary Games

When I was growing up YA was a gentler read. Tom Swift, Nancy Dew, Harder Boys. Now reflexive of the times we live dystopian death match 2000 is in vogue. Lots of dead youth. So not one to miss out on trends in emerging American fiction I have chosen a tale I’m calling The Dictionary Games. Dozen seniors locked in a library. Their only weapon a 1909 Webster’s Dictionary. The shelves are layered with deadly traps and the librarian is packing a Smith and Wesson. The sole survivor gets a free ride to Harvard and seat of the supreme court.

NORVAL JOE

They sat down on a musty threadbare couch. The filthy walls were bare except for a single curling photo of a girl and her older brother.

“That picture is you and your brother.” Mandi pointed. “Why’s he smiling, and you look unhappy?”

Bobbie blushed. “That was years ago. Patrick was playing his game with me and was proud of himself.”

“What game?” Mandi asked.

Bobbi blushed and shook her head. “He knows I’m in charge now and he can’t mess with me anymore. That’s why he likes the Black Knights. They’re all about persecuting and dominating other people of power.”

SERENDIPIDY

I really should charge for my services, but then again, didn’t someone once say if you truly love your job, you’ll never work a day of your life? And it seems somehow wrong to charge for something I’m happy to do for free.
My clients are happy too. They tell me I give a five star service.
It’s nice to be appreciated.
But, nothing in life is ever really free. There’s always a price to be paid on the day of reckoning.
You make a deal with this devil, and some day you are going to pay with your soul.

RICHARD

— Scrabble —
“How about a game of Scrabble?” suggested Harry.
Everybody groaned inwardly.
Harry always wanted to play Scrabble, and Harry always won.
This time would be no different.
“Juxplunk!” Harry proclaimed triumphantly; “And on two triple word scores too!” He quickly totted up the score… “I make that a hundred and sixty eight points!”
“That’s not a real word Harry.”
He sighed and thumbed through the dictionary.
“Juxplunk: The sound of a pebble falling down a well.”
He snapped the dictionary shut and stuffed it down the side of his chair.
We knew he was lying, but it was his dictionary.

PLANET Z

I had an handheld Electronic Football game growing up.
Well, my brother and I were forced to share it.
We were forced to share a lot.
My brother would take his turn and run down the battery.
Then he handed it to me.
I wanted to replace the battery, but my parents were cheap.
So, I left the game on the counter.
My brother would wait until night and swap the battery with one in a smoke detector.
And it would give its low battery beep.
My dad would get out a step ladder and replace the battery,
A lot.

Weekly Challenge #1009 – Advance

The next topic is PICK TWO
Dictionary
Game
Orchestra
Appreciated
Charge

RICHARD

Lawless

Remember the good old days when the advance of technology was fairly predictable, we had good old Moore’s Law telling us that computing power would double every two years, and that’s pretty much how things worked.
But, not any more.
Now, with AI, large language models and quantum computing, who knows where technology will take us in two weeks, let alone two years!
Let’s face it though, as technology gets smarter, people get correspondingly dumber, and it’s only a matter of time before most of humanity become gibbering imbeciles.
Not me though.
I know how to operate the off switch!

LIZZIE

They paid her a generous advance for her artwork. “It’s not finished yet,” she said meekly. But it had been decided. Well, in that case! She didn’t hesitate to receive the money. “Maldives, here I come,” she thought, feeling the sun on her face and the soft white sand. The painting? That remained unfinished. “Who cares!” Upon returning home, they asked her for the painting. She replied with a vague excuse that she needed some time off “for inspiration”. So, they grabbed her and chopped off one of her fingers. “Each day, a finger.” She held out for four fingers.

TOM

Advance

Timmy was always financially strapped. He really missed weekly paychecks. This monthly pay schedule sucked. The last week of the was filled with peanut butter and cool aid. Often, he would forgo the bus and walk in to work. The hardest was the last Friday of the month. Luckily his boss would cut a check to advance him 20 or 40 bucks. One month both the cats got sick and Mary’s cars needed tires. So, he had to get an advance of the advance. Finally in his late 40’s he poked his head above water started buying bitcoins and maple-leafs.

LISA

Bestseller
I’m the most promising novelist of my generation. Sunday Times words – not mine. I’m a bit short on words at the moment.
The first book, the one you’ve all read, was a breeze. Wrote itself. Rave reviews. Tik Tok went wild. It was the most seen book of the summer. And my advance for the sequel -AMAZING. So, the publishers NEED another for next summer; they’ve already got the merchandise planned.
I’m two chapters in and sat staring at a blank page. My witty protagonist that everyone loves is in bed refusing to catch my eye.
Reader, I hate her.

SERENDIPIDY

I watched them advance, shuffling gait, lifeless eyes, inexorable, unrelenting and terrifying.
The zombie hoard filled the streets, a growing crowd of the undead hunting out new victims to sate their feeding frenzy.
I watched you run and hide, desperately seeking shelter; somewhere safe from the clutches of those in pursuit, but it was hopeless.
You can run, but you can’t hide.
These are modern-day zombies, not your old-style shambling corpses.
They have drones equipped with infra-red, heat-seeking cameras, and whatever your hiding place, they will find you.
And, even modern zombies will eat your brains!

NORVAL JOE

Mandi thought she’d escaped Bobbi after the tardy bell rang but as she left her final class the redhead advanced toward her, pushing kids out of her way.

“Come on,” Bobbi said and waved her toward the school’s exit.

Obediently, Mandi followed. “Where are we going?”

“To my house,” Bobbi said. “If the Black Knights have Billbert and Sabrina, someone is going to get hurt and the Knights are going to use those two to do the hurting.”

Bobbi’s house needed paint and major repairs. Mandi followed her, avoiding trash and broken appliances in the overgrown grass of the yard.

PLANET Z

After my first book sold a million copies, my publisher offered me a deal for four more books.
Of course I signed.
How foolish I was.
The first book was easy.
The second, not so much.
And the third… a nightmare.
Turned in with a week to spare.
The fourth book, they were hounding me.
I’d already spent the advance. And then some.
But I finished it, just barely, at the stroke of midnight.
That fifth book, though.
Why did I sign a deal for four more books?
So, I made it a coloring book.
Outsold the other four combined.