Category: Weekly Challenge

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.

Weekly Challenge #1008 – It’s Going Down

The next topic is Advance

LISA

There was a fish in the sky, the sun glinted on its iridescent undersides. Whipped by the breeze it coasted a while on the thermals. We stood in the garden, necks craned, watching it swim through the clouds.
“It’s going down” Sue shouted as we ran to the front of the house.
It sank fast and caught in a neighbour’s oak tree. It was actually a metallic balloon which promptly burst on a conker spine then crinkled in the breeze. A tag dangled from its tail with an address in France: a competition to see whose balloon travelled the furthest.

RICHARD

— Unwise —
“Invest in the stock market he said.”
“What do you have to lose? All you need is a good financial advisor, some spare cash and maybe just a little bit of luck, and by this time next year you could be a millionaire.”
So I took a punt.
After all, I had a little spare cash to invest, and I don’t consider myself particularly unlucky.
Unfortunately, what I didn’t have was a good financial advisor.
He selected the worst stock ever to invest in, and every time I asked him how the market was doing…
He’d say, “It’s going down.”

LIZZIE

“It’s going down…” whispered the radio. The coded message prompted them to grab their guns and take off. Then, they waited. An hour. Two hours. Nothing. Keep radio silence, but… what should they do? One of them decided to stand up and… A shot. Boom. Man down. The others were perplexed. They were the hunters, not the hunted. Another stood up to complain. Boom. Man down. “Wait a second, I didn’t pay a fortune for this. It’s over for me.” Boom. Man down. What they didn’t know was that other men had paid a lot more to hunt the hunters.

SERENDIPIDY

It’s going down to the wire.
The razor wire.
It’s my interpretation of the old fashioned death of a thousand cuts. Updated and improved.
It’s a simple idea: A deep, dark pit, stuffed full of copious strands of razor wire -military grade, of course.
And I’m going to throw you in.
You’ll be torn to shreds. And the more you struggle and writhe in pain, the worse it gets.
Until, slick from blood, screaming in pain, flesh flayed from your bones, you finally succumb to your wounds.
So, now you know your immediate future…
It’s going down, to the wire.

TOM

Fly to close to the sun.

When I was a kid I had a subscription to Youth National Geographic. In one issue was a picture of Alexander Bell’s tetrahedron kites. Big enough to lift a man into the sky. As kid I did not have the materials to build the man lifting kites, but I did build tetrahedron out of drinking straws. Lightest material I could find. Fast forward 60 years 3d printer spitting out nano-tube. Got the cat at about 1000 feet. Looking good, stable, success OH forgot about the load on the string . Too bad. Fluffy, its good down fast. Rethink: need nano-tube string.

NORVAL JOE

Bobbi snatched the phone from Mandi and punched in a text.

Patrick. What are you doing with Sabrina’s phone.

After a long pause, a reply came. Bobbi?

She continued. I came by your house on the way to school. No one was home. Where are you and where is Billbert?

Mind your own business, he sent back.

Bobbie grimaced. “Mom says you are my business. You’re not into more Black Knight crap, are you?”

Just watch, little sister. My crap is going to be powerful, and it’s going down soon.

Bobbie handed Mandi her phone. “The Black Knights have Billbert.”

PLANET Z

Mindy’s fever was finally coming down.
Icepacks and aspirin, and a week in bed.
Her vision was blurry, and she couldn’t read her books, so we read to her.
Or we turned on the radio.
Hauling the television upstairs wasn’t an option.
And she wanted to stay in her room.
We brought up soup and orange juice and ice water, took down the empty trays and bowls and cups.
Replacing her sheets and pillowcases twice a day, soaked with sweat.
She’d lost fifteen, maybe twenty pounds.
Her sister Sally was jealous.
Until the doctor said Mindy had irreversible brain damage.

Weekly Challenge #1007 – Cruising

The next topic is It’s going down…

LISA

Come Fly with Me

It felt good to be out cruising along, feeling the breeze beneath my wings. Endless possibilities for the day lay ahead.
My driver today was old and small. He struggled to see over the dashboard. Our eyes met but I don’t think he saw me stuck to the windscreen. I could hear his music through the glass.
We travelled together as companions for miles until a jet of water unseated me. I had a nauseating lurch back and forth on the wipers before they came to a stop with a screeching judder.
I realised then, my time was nearly up.

RICHARD

— Flight Plan —
There are some things you just don’t want to hear when cruising at twenty thousand feet.
Things like… “Brace for impact!”, “This is a hijack!”, or “Can you smell burning?”
Thankfully, that’s not a situation I’ve ever found myself having to face, but believe me, I’m prepared.
I think I’ve watched every flight disaster movie that’s ever been released. Twice.
I always try to sit over a wing, or next to an emergency exit. Preferably both.
And, unlike you, I always pay attention to the in-flight safety briefing.
Want my advice?
If you ever fly… Sit next to me!

SERENDIPIDY

It’s Friday night, and I’m getting ready to go out, like so many others will be, the world over.
I’ve showered, done my nails and make -up, picked out a killer outfit, and spritzed myself with fragrance.
And, of course, I’ve had a couple of drinks to get me in the mood.
But I’m not meeting up with the girls, hitting a nightclub or even going out with a hot date. My night will be very different.
Tonight, I’ll be cruising the streets; looking for unfortunate victims to feed my craving.
I did say I’d picked out a ‘killer’ outfit.

TOM

Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac. Don’t look back you can never look back

When I met my first wife, I was living high in Santa Cruz. She was a Walnut Creek Girl with a Fortune 500 Father. I a proto-hippy. One of the oddest things we share was a love of cursing. In northern California lexicon there is phrase: Cruising the Main. And of course, cruising the boardwalk was understood in 174 different languages. We young poor and in need of cheap entertainment. Oh, what a circle that was. Buckets of pills and clouds of pot. Lot and lot of free Booze. One night I even ran it to Both toms: Waits and Lehrer.

LIZZIE

The pelican flew over the cruise ship. The tourists took their phones out to start lives. Look, look, a bird. Most didn’t even know it was a pelican. Some called him a giant seagull. But the pelican flew over again. After the lives came the photos. Social media is hungry, let’s post some photos and show off our ignorance. The pelican flew back and forth. Suddenly, he pooped on the tourists. Shrieks of amusement and more lives, featuring the pooped deck. Likes, hearts, laughing emojis. Then, the pelican flew away, grunting, “bring fish, next time!” and thinking humans are idiots.

NORVAL JOE

With students cruising past them to class, Mandi realized she had said too much.

“He has what?” Bobbi gasped.

“Gotta go to the bathroom.” Mandi hurried into the girl’s room.

She locked herself in a stall, pulled out her phone, and texted Sabrina. Where are you and Billbert?

She read the reply quickly, opened the stall door, and ran into Bobbi, her phone still in her hand.

“Who did you call?” Bobbi demanded.

Mandi shrugged. “I texted Sabrina, but I don’t think it was her.”

“Why?” Bobbi asked.

Mandi frowned deep in thought. “She called me Linoliumanda and not Lindimindi.”

PLANET Z

At night on every cruise ship when the lights are turned off so you can look up and see the stars. Living in the city a lot of the night sky gets washed out by street lights. Even in the country you still get some light pollution. but out on the deep ocean you can see everything and it’s really mind blowing with everyone looking up. Some people trying to take pictures with their phones, not turning off the flash and running it for everyone. At least when it’s dark, nobody can see that it’s you who pushed them overboard.

Weekly Challenge #1006 – Keep Well

The next topic is Cruising

LISA

True Love is Hard to Kill
Keepwell was nestled in the shadows of Dugyle Castle. Their visitors passed through our town so we thrived. Life was good. Until the falling sickness.
The drawbridge went up and nothing more was heard from the castle. We did the same: shut the gates and sat it out imposing no contact with the rest of the country.
Jack the butcher’s son however, continued to see his beau from a nearby village. They met secretly until she succumbed to the sickness. The rest is really too painful to recount but our numbers dwindled rapidly and the castle soon fell into ruin.

RICHARD

— Explosive Power —
“Keep well clear” said the guide, “they appear pretty lethargic but they can strike with explosive power.”
I figured he was being dramatic, hoping for a bigger tip.
Still, I wasn’t going to take unnecessary risks; I eyed the croc suspiciously. It appeared to be asleep, barely any sign of life. I reckoned I could outrun it, should it come to that.
I moved closer, crouching low to get the perfect shot.
“National Geographic, here I come, I said quietly, raising my camera.”
The attack was over in a flash, as was my life.
Still, it was an amazing photo.

SERENDIPIDY

I’m sorry to say, they don’t keep well.
It’s not long before they start to smell and go bad.
And they do tend to attract flies, which isn’t particularly pleasant.
It’s a shame really. I’d love to be able to put them on display to show to my visitors. After all, there’s really nothing like a set of decapitated human heads as a conversation starter at parties.
Sadly, until I can come up with a way to keep them fresh, that’s just not going to be possible.
So, until then…
I’ll just keep on eating them. They’re really rather tasty!

TOM

Transurethral Resection of the Prostate

Last week I got interpolated. In the biz it’s call a Terp or Turp. Sounds like a small Africa bird in the shadow of Kilimanjaro. Nup. Think dermel tunneling into a gland. I will fore-go the image of tubing and ballons for the fain of heart. What I can address is a new understanding of the pain chart. Like Spinal Tap is goes from 1 to 11. Well I thought it when from 1 to 11. I discovered a land that leave that silly 11 in the dust. Lot of screaming. Damn near a religious experience. If I don’t move ……

LIZZIE

I knew someone innocent would die. He wanted to clear his name and trampled all over anyone who stood in his way.
I wanted to ask him “why”. But I never did. He would’ve denied it. The images have been doctored. It wasn’t him on the video. “Can’t you see?” And no, I couldn’t. It was him, stealing from his best friend.
When he was arrested, I said “keep well”. He just looked at me. And I knew I’d have to run for my life.
Perhaps I should go to that place in the painting and hide in plain sight.

NORVAL JOE

Mandi shrugged away from the redhead. “You keep well, okay?” She headed to class.

The girl grabbed her by her shoulder. “If you want Billbert to keep well, you’ll tell me where he is.”

Intimidated by the girl’s size and overt beauty, Mandi gritted her teeth and hissed. “I don’t know where he is. When I got up this morning, he was gone.”

The girl frowned. “Listen. My name is Bobbi Yaan. My brother, Patrick, is a Black Knight, and he’s missing too. The Knights know Billbert has magic.”

Mandi interrupted Bobbi. “He doesn’t have magic. He has a superpower.”

PLANET Z

The first module we played was the keep on the borderlands, a castle at the edge of some caves, full of warring tribes of monsters and some kind of evil temple. At some point, our characters tried to rob the jewelry store and ended up getting killed by the castle guards. The new characters we rolled up for the next adventure were looked on with a bit more suspicion. So this time we ended up poisoning the well. After a few years, I stopped playing. I never got good at painting the miniatures, but I did like collecting fancy dice.

Weekly Challenge #1005 – PICK TWO Display, Poem, Background music, 158, Rockfall

The next topic is Keep well

RICHARD

— Festival—

It was one of the weirdest concepts I’d ever come across in my years in the music business.
‘Rockfall 25′ – the world’s first festival of background music.
I can’t say the lineup was impressive, I’d never heard of the headline acts, and the programme wasn’t at all attractive. I couldn’t see myself succumbing to the delights of the ‘Elevator Music Tent’; and the idea of the ‘On-hold Music Stage’ was far from appealing.
I went anyway.
It was great.
A relaxing few days just doing my own thing in a field, to the accompaniment of unobtrusive, quiet background music.

LIZZIE

Discard the old.
Discard the old and frame it. Put it on display so you never forget.
The background music, nagging your memory, doesn’t help. But… Forget it.
Forget it all. Move elsewhere. Do something else. Walk away.
They’ll try to chase you, those cold recollections, they will. But… Forget them.
Forget it all. Sell your house. Buy a new one where no one knows you. Walk away.
Leave your pain behind. Or whatever you call pain. It might be a wave, a word, a doubt and a certainty.
The water is dark and deep. But… forget it.
Save yourself.

TOM

One isn’t the loneliest number

Today number of interest is 158 that can be displayed in number of ways: 3 × 53 it’s prime factorization. In hex-s 0x9F or even binary 10011111. My favorite is 158 displayed as a Lego number 555 222 (some ensemble required) Of course the weirdest quality of 158 is it is the prime celestial. Baron Otto Von Patton in 1827 discovered 158 was the number of angles that could fit on the head on a pin. One may ask how do you get angles to display in a non-celestial realm? Prune juice, well actually the effect of same juice. Snot bad.

LISA

Late For Work

Peter’s turned himself around after the shock of routine blood test results. Diagnosed as pre-diabetic with high cholesterol he swapped crashing with a croissant first thing to an early morning run. Everyone’s noticed the impact of these choices. The background music from his earbuds this morning is Thunder by AC/DC; it’s hard not to think of those cheerleaders coming out onto the pitch.
Ahead & unseen a car is reversing from their driveway. Peter looks like poetry in motion as his feet hit the pavement in time to the music’s thump.
He picks up his speed.
So does the car.

SERENDIPIDY

Blood-curdling screams; wailing and moaning; heart-rending sobs. Not exactly the average person’s idea of background music or chilled ambience, but I love it.
I don’t have to worry about royalties or copyright claims. Every expression of pain is unique and fleeting, meant to be enjoyed just once, and never repeated.
It can get a bit messy of course, but that’s only to be expected – and, if I’m honest, that just adds to the enjoyment.
It’s an acquired taste, which to you may sound vile…
But, I think the sounds of pain are just like a finely-crafted poem.

NORVAL JOE

Mandi didn’t know why this girl wanted to talk to her. She tried not to display any sign of understanding and asked, “What do you want?”

The tall girl rolled her eyes. “I know you know Billbert, and Sabrina, too. I need to talk to them, both.”

Background music for the morning announcements began to play over speakers in the hallway and Mandi said, “Um. It’s almost time for class.” She didn’t move.

The girl put a hand gently on Mandi’s shoulder and stepped close. “I’m Bobbi. I’m a friend of Billbert’s and it’s important that I talk to him.”

PLANET Z

Pro wrestling isn’t fake, but it’s not a sport.
Every corporation states that clearly in their charter to avoid regulation and tax issues.
It’s a scripted performance. It’s art.
It doesn’t mean that it’s completely fake, because the talent and crew still need to build up their skills and bodies.
And they do get hurt. Just like other performers in the arts, like figure skaters and gymnasts.
But just as much as ballroom dancing and ballet isn’t a sport, figure skating and gymnastics and wrestling aren’t either.
Still, it’s fun to watch. Now and then.
If you’re five or six.