The dictator

When the occupying Army caught the dictator, we announced it to the press.
And the press cheered.
People took to the streets and cheered, firing their guns in the air.
Tearing down posters and pulling down statues.
Burning police stations and army bases.
Destroying all of the books in libraries and schools.
Looting stores and banks.
It was absolute chaos.
The interim governor asked the dictator for advice.
“Sound like a you problem, not a me problem,” were his last words.
His supporters in the prison rioted, and they took over the prison.
Finding his body, hanging in his cell.

Dee

It’s been a long time since Dee died.
Her kidneys failed, and she’d been on dialysis, but needed a transplant.
Her family didn’t match, but her brother was a match for someone, and that someone’s brother was a match for her.
So, they arranged an exchange, and the surgeries were a success.
Except, her body rejected her kidney.
I was also a match, but she died before anything could be arranged.
A few years later, I came down with kidney stones.
And those are really painful.
A pain worse than death?
Probably not, but it helps me sleep at night.

The days

So, it’s May.
Mother’s Day came and went…
My father’s birthday coming soon…
Then father’s day… and my mother’s birthday.
Last year, they were making their moves to trap and exploit me.
This year, they’re dead.
All I wanted was to forgive them for everything they did.
But they tricked me… they manipulated my emotions.
They fucking used me.
I still have twitches and a bit of PTSD from it all.
But in the end… it will be okay.
And if I am condemned to Hell for what I did to protect myself, well, I’m sure I’ll see them there.

Clouds with character

I like to go down to the beach at the bay every now and then just stand there, listening to the water on the shore. When it’s a nice sunny day with a few clouds, I can just stand out there and feel the sun on my skin. But I think I like it better when it’s cloudy and raining because of all the deeper blues and grays and shapes of the clouds, there’s a lot more character to them and watching them slowly roll across is relaxing. I shake the sand off of my shoes and drive back home.

Wash

There’s a few car washes in town and two of them are with the same chain that uses a subscription model, and sometimes the wash is broken at one, and the vacuums are broken at the other, so I get washed up at the first and drive to the other and then do my shopping and come home. Not that I drive much but this gets me out and about sometimes I pick up a cheeseburger on the way home, small drink and some fries. Oh it’s for my wife, not me. I don’t need to be eating that stuff.

Weekly Challenge #1036 – Twist

The next topic is Dear everyone

RICHARD

Twist
I hate how the world has become so dumbed-down. When did the human race descend to the level where everything has to be explained to them?
Have we really become so stupid we need instructions to complete even the simplest of tasks?
Please hold the hand rail’, ‘Push to exit’, ‘Twist to open’… I mean, come on, are we really that thick?
Then I watch the news, scroll through social media and find myself coming to the conclusion that, just maybe, we are.
Only the message we need isn’t ‘Twist to open’, it’s ‘Wake up and smell the coffee!’

LISA

A Need for Something Sweet
Neptune was angry. He pummelled the pier until the wood weakened and split. The end of the pier snapped into the water; the waves could lap at the shop then. Licking the windows trying to taste what was beneath. The weight of the water behind the waves splintered the glass and it gave way. The shop had been selling traditional sweets since the pier was built. Sweets that no one under thirty had even heard of never mind tried. Aniseed Balls and Candy Twist. A jar of bonbons bobbed in the sea then crashed against a rock. Neptune was calmed.

LIZZIE

Write the story of your life, they said. It’ll be a success. And she wrote the story. It wasn’t fine and it wasn’t a success. Why? Because the story had one character. She was the main and only character. Her story wasn’t that interesting, she thought. Born to a family of crazy people. Small town, crazy school. Moved to the big city and got a fancy job that paid well. Then, she decided to write her story. The intrusive thoughts took over and she was done. The moment she jumped off the bridge, she thought “I’m crazy enough to fly”.

LEWIE

Oliver Twist’s parents were out of town,
vacationing.

He hosted a party
full of energy and music.

There was someone in the other room
playing a game of Twister,
shouting, “Left hand Blue!”

His friend Ernő kept to himself,
sitting in a large armchair,
twisting a Rubik’s Cube,
and Timmy tested Tibetan tongue twisters.

Chubby Checker started singing the twist.
Outside, a twister formed — the ultimate plot twist.
The television died.
Henry screamed.

His mother scolded him for twisting her TV rules.

He blamed his twisted sister’s
twisted sense of humor.

“But it is the theme, isn’t it?” she chuckled.

SERENDIPIDY

Why does the twist always have to come at the end?
Why not the beginning? (The butler did it! There: I saved you a long read).
Or perhaps the middle? I think that would be a real twist… You’d never have seen that coming.
But no, we always pin it to the end, often the last chapter, maybe even the very last page.
So predictable, so dependable, so very boring.
So, I’m not going to do it.
You’re coming to the end.
And, there is no twist.
Really. I mean it.
And you still got to the last line anyway.

TOM

Like we did last summer

If you weren’t an Aruther Murray prodigy, social dancing was problematic. Spent time at many a Polish wedding hugging the wall. Then as if a gift directly from the gods came: The Twist. A dance that remained in my skill-set deep into the 80s. The trick is to look exponentially cooler is lower till your knee are nearly scrapping the dance floor. By 1993 I had all but lost this skill, but then who among us could have competed against the like of Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction. And that Italian kid. Wonder if she can still cut a rug.

NORVAL JOE

Mandi shoved the magnifying glass into the pocket of the baggy cat pajamas borrowed from Mrs. Weinerheimer and followed Billbert down the stairs. Standing by the kitchen table, covered with other arcane devices, Billbert said, “Okay. Let her out.”

Mandi twisted the handle of the glass in her pocket back and forth, hesitating. Her bottom lip quivered. “Do I have to? She’s so mean to me.”

“Show Sabrina you’re better than that,” Billbert suggested. “That you’re kind.”

She pulled the magnifying glass from her pocket and looked into it.

Sabrina appeared and frowned. “Why are you guys staring at me?”

PLANET Z

Cindy woke up, sitting in a chair.
She tried to get up, but she was tied to the chair.
She looked around, some kind of dark basement.
A door opened, a man came down the stairs.
It was the singer, Chubby Checker.
And he was grinning.
“Do you want to twist again,” he said. “Like we did last summer?”
“No,” moaned Cindy. “Not again.”
She remembered the bruises. The pain.
The shame.
Checker wagged his finger.
“Come on, baby,” he said. “Just like this.”
Then he held out his hands, reached over to Cindy, and…
Cindy passed out from screaming.

Funeral for a funeral

A member of Hamas died in a Lebanese village.
His stash of weapons and explosives exploded.
So, they held a funeral for him.
A riot broke out, and three people died at the funeral.
At each of their funerals, three more people died.
For a total of nine.
And then at their funerals, twenty-seven.
Funeral after funeral, riot after riot, explosion after explosion.
Until they suddenly stopped.
There was nobody left to riot.
There were no more stashes of weapons to explode.
And there was nobody left to attend a funeral.
Finally, peace was achieved.
(People still blamed the Jews.)

Family not friends

Why did I forsake my father? Why did I forsake my mother?
When it’s friends that you love like family, they matter.
And I will do everything I can for them.
But when it’s family that aren’t your friends, they don’t matter.
It takes a lot of self-control and power to overcome the guilt they abuse you with.
Yes, you owe them your life and your education.
But they don’t own you.
And anything they did for you was to help you make a success of yourself.
Exploiting that, after years of neglect or distance, will make nothing but failure.

Fire and brimstone

Hell isn’t all fire and brimstone, you know.
That’s just a little light show the welcoming committee uses to scare the new residents.
Once you get past registration and assignments, it’s actually palm trees, sand, and a gentle breeze.
Not that you’ll notice, as you’re dragged in chains.
Dropped into the line for your eternal punishment.
Demons sipping coffee, chatting with each other, as you wait in line for… for…
“What are we in line for?” you ask.
“We’re on break,” mumbles a demon. “Quiet.”
The line never moves, the breeze never stops.
And you wait… and wait… and wait…

Doctor Odd Gender Reveal

Doctor Odd was keenly aware that he wouldn’t live forever, and despite growing an army of clones to carry on his legacy of mad science, he had a strange feeling that he needed to have an actual child.
So, he got married, and soon after, his wife became pregnant.
At the Gender Reveal Party, Doctor Odd unveiled a quantum black hole generator hooked to a fusion reactor.
“If it’s a boy, we’ll hurtle towards the sun,” said Doctor Odd. “And if it’s a girl, Earth will explode.”
Nothing happened.
“Well, shit,” said Doctor Odd. “Miscarriage?”
Doctor Odd grew another clone.