Cough And Dagger

639166

The Dark Days are here.
I see their faces in the shadows, handing cough drops to each other.
There’s something in them. I just know there is.
No, I don’t know what it is. They won’t let me in the lab anymore.
I hear whispers: “Keep them medicated, keep them under control.”
I am offered the coughdrops at every corner, and I palm them to fool the others.
But now, their eyes are starting to glow green.
I can’t fake that, so I’m fleeing the city.
And then… I cough a single cough.
They hear it, growling, and I run.

The Monkey Dance

639166

For ten years, Dinko Dogan and his monkey entertained the streets of Rousse.
At night, they swam in the Danube, Dinko singing and the monkey hunting fish.
“The fish are bad,” said the rivermaster. “The poison from the factories is in them.”
Dinko laughed. The monkey laughed with him. “Come for a swim, my friend!” he sang.
When the coughing and bleeding sores were too painful to ignore, Dinko ended his nightly swims.
The price of bananas was so high, but the fruitwagoneer said the monkey brought customers and gave them for free.
Dinko sang, and the monkey danced on.

Tell Me A Story

639165

“Tell me a story,” says the ghost in my bed.
I’m used to it.
So, I pull a book from the shelf, open the pages, and begin to read.
“I’ve heard this before,” says the ghost.
The ghost has heard them all.
I close the book and make up a story about dragons, castles, maidens, and knights.
But this time, the maidens ate dragons and the castles floated in the air.
“What about the knights?” asked the ghost.
“They lived happily ever after,” I said.
The ghost smiled, faded into nothing, and I was finally able to go to sleep.

The Waxlings

639162

Come here, Waxlings.
The sun is too bright. Our world is melting.
The great mountains of the west are hills now, flowing in all directions.
The oceans are too hot to live near. Our great bridges have fallen and turned to goo.
As has nearly everything else.
Our only solace is that we are of stronger waxes. We sweat and drip, but maintain our lives by eating and finding what little shelter that remains.
One day, the heat will be too great even for us, and we will melt into the core.
Forgive me, my children, but you are delicious.

The Prince Of Scars

639169

We called the old man The Prince Of Scars.
He was brought to the hospital last winter, frozen solid.
We stripped him and put him in a tub of warm water, reviving him slowly.
His body was completely covered with painful creases, knots, deformations, and agonizing twists.
“What happened to you?” I asked him.
“Life didn’t pass me by,” he moaned. “It took one look at me and tore me apart.”
He didn’t say anything else.
We couldn’t get a name off of him and his fingerprints were long destroyed.
He left that morning.
Think he’ll be back next winter?

Weekly Challenge #170 – The games we play

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Sixty-Nine, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s That’s not thunder, it’s….
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
Guy David from http://guydavid.com
Mick from http://someotherscotland.blogspot.com/
TJ from http://tjaman.libsyn.com/
Planet X-ray from http://planetxpodcast.com/
Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
Ellybean
Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
Daniel from http://dannymachal.com/
Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

Guy David

The rules are simple. For every time I touch her, I have to wash three dishes. For every time we kiss, I have to take out the trash free times. For every time I touch one of her nipples, the laundry have to be made three times. It’s a dangerous game, but I play, forever bewitched by my love. Tomorrow, we are going to make love. I can only guess what the consequences would be. If you don’t hear from me by this time tomorrow, please spread my remains across the river and send my undying love for my lady.

Mick Bordet

I have drifted across these prairies and wandered along this trail for so many long, lonely years to no avail, but now that I have found you and can hold you in my arms, I can’t resist falling for your deadly charms. And I wonder how long it will be ’til the day that our love is torn apart by the games that we play.
With your animal instinct and my steel forty five, I am waltzing with werewolves, in love to survive. The full moon will highlight the claws of my bride; waltzing with werewolves, silver by my side.

TJ

The clock on the mantlepiece struck midnight as Miss Scarlet entered the lounge through the secret passageway. She froze, her heart in her throat as heavy footsteps passed in the hallway. She knew what she’d seen – or rather, what she hadn’t. The missing candlestick in the conservatory, the body splayed out, dark blood pooling … it was too horrible. As she moved to settle her nerves with a brandy, the looming shadows in the room disclosed her assailant. She shrieked, too late, her suspicions confirmed: Mrs. White, in the Lounge now, poised to strike once more with her bloodied candlestick.

Planet X-Ray

Mike’s lips and tongue traced a moist path from one freckle to another along
Linda’s soft neck and shoulders. As he reached under her loose fitting
peasant blouse, he cupped each of her small but firm and perky breasts in
his hands, messaging them gently.
“How do you like that little girl? You want more?” Mike asked.
A moan of emitted from Linda’s lips as Mike brushed back her pigtails and
softly nibbled on her left ear.
Softly Mike spoke into her ear, “Maybe tomorrow night we can play nurse and
doctor?”
Linda just answered, “Ahhhh… The games we play”.

Lynda

I didn’t mind so much when my family put me in a home because I never liked those
selfish bastards, and once I discovered strip bingo night I was sorry I didn’t
commit myself sooner!
At first it was a little weird, watching my new neighbors struggle to get their
shirts off when their first numbers were called, and I regretted having my cataracts
removed when some of them got close to winning, but then I made a load of new
friends when I yelled that all I needed was an O69.
That old coot Harold Blonksy hasn’t stopped laughing.

Anima

White pawn to dee four.
“I noticed your van double parked– Looks like you could use a hand…”
The classic opening move; Does this sound sincere?
Black pawn to dee five.
“I do have two, but if you are offering assistance…”
Queen’s gambit! This one’s a little sharpie… I like that!
White pawn to cee four.
“I have to run down the street for a few minutes, but I’ve got time to help
you move the rest of those boxes if you can wait. You shouldn’t have to do
all this manual labor alone…”
Will the queen accept or decline?

Ellybean

The fact that there was more liveliness in this place than there had been
for years brought joy to the families of the community so Greta knew her
team was counting on her. This shot could make or break everything they
worked so hard for. Saying a little prayer, she swung by the sweat of her
brow. The ball glided down the smooth surface and strike, she had made the
shot!
Cheers were let out all around! Greta had proudly won. She passed the wii
remote to the next player and a boisterous man declared “Prune juice is on
me!”

Justin

Marcus turned and fled. He dodged a torrent of pulse laser blasts. Dirt
showered everywhere. A boulder exploded near him and red filled his vision.
More zombies rose and Marcus slowed as they grasped at his. Guts flew around
him as zombies were massacred by the hail of beams and rockets. An
increasing number of explosions tossed him clear of the zombies. He headed
towards a knee-high fence and tried to jump it several times unsuccessfully.
A rocket hit him exploding him into giblets.
Marcus shoved the keyboard away, shouting at the screen.
“Stupid game! Let me jump the fence!”

Daniel

I drove my silver 1932 Roadster down to the Boardwalk.
This car is a real panty dropper, but I prefer to pay for the good stuff.
I blew my wad on the hooker and hotel.
Didn’t matter.
Payday was right around the corner.
I cruised around town to Marvin Gardens to get some blow, the good stuff.
Not the third rate shit they cut with baking soda over on Baltic Ave.
Live fast, die young.
I drove the panty dropper toward my house on Pacific to get high and die.
Didn’t see that damn cop until it was too late.

Norval Joe

Kent was excited to be at a party attended by most of the freshman at his small high school.
He was chunky and had complexion problems that facial clensers didn’t begin to clear.
He sat quietly in a group of the most popular kids in his class.
Someone put an empty bottle on the table and gave it a spin. It stopped and pointed at the head cheerleader.
“Truth or dare”, the football captain said.
“Dare,” she replied.
“I dare you to kiss your true love,” he grinned smugly.
She turned and gave Kent the first kiss of his life.

Planet Z

There was only one comic book, and both Bobby and Joey wanted it.
“Noisehair duel,” they said together and nodded.
“First one to cry or bleed loses,” said Joey.
Bobby didn’t cry when he broke his arm. Or his leg.
Joey didn’t cry at his father’s funeral.
They were cold, heartless kids. Numb to the core, the world had destroyed their capacity for tears.
Bobby and Joey passed the tweezers back and forth, the tiny pile of nose hairs growing slowly on the kitchen table.
Joey drew first blood, a tiny trickle of red.
Bobby took the polyethylene bag, smiling.

The Champ

639159

It is the Fourth Of July.
Thousands of miles from the Coney Island Boardwalk, Hodo blindly crawls on the cracked earth, flies buzzing in and out of his nose.
There is no food.
There is no water.
There is nothing but dirt, flies, and death.
A pack of hyenas catches his scent, and Hodo doesn’t feel them as they tear into his flesh.
Back at Coney Island, the winner of the hot dog eating competition congratulations the runner-up.
They laugh, throw up on each other, and laugh again.
To Hodo, the pool on the ground would have been a banquet.

A whisper in the ivy

639170

I hear a whisper in the ivy.
Is it the wind, blowing through the leaves?
On the ground, in a bed of green, covered with shadows, I see something.
I kneel down to look closer, but there is nothing there.
Another whisper. This time behind me.
And yet another. To my left. To my right.
It is the wind, and it wants to tell me something.
It breathes down my neck, past my arms, through my fingers.
“What is it?” I whisper back. “What do you want to tell me?”
Silence. The wind keeps its secrets, locked in the ivy.

The strange coffee

639168

Mary watched the last drop of coffee slide out of her cup and on to the floor.
There was a sizzle, then a whiff of steam. The drop of coffee burned through the tile to the basement.
Mary looked at the coffee pot, swirling it carefully. She’d used a free sample she’d received in the mail.
After a moment of panic, she realized it hadn’t burned a hole through her.
She went into the bathroom and checked to make sure.
After she got dressed again, she shrugged and filled another cup.
This time, she added sugar, igniting a massive explosion.

The Flower Goddess

639168

In her retirement, the Flower Goddess fills her days by arranging the stones in her Zen garden.
“Where are the flowers?” asks a visiting priest.
“In my memory,” she says, and she picks up the rake.
Concentric circles, weaving patterns. Lines without end.
Her sister, the former Goddess of Dance, sits on a bench and watches the sand.
“In my youth, I would have found inspiration from this,” she said. “But instead of useless motion, I merely observe and appreciate the stillness.”
The Flower Goddess nods, and summons afternoon tea.
She plucks hibiscus blooms from memory to boil in it.