The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic. (You were also challenged to come up with a Single Frame Story on the same topic.)

The topic this week was Switch.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

• Claire Voiant
• Jeffrey
• Lizzie
• Tom
• Serendipidy Haven
• Aequitas
• Munsi
• Tura Brezoianu
• Dondo Dollinger
• Whiskey Monday
• Steven Saus
• Botgirl
• Rick
• Cliff – Uncle Monster
• Bonchance and Sevi
• RedGoddess
• Zackmann
• Norval Joe
• Danny Dwyer
• Justin
• Planet Z

The next 100 word stories weekly challenge is on the topic of Suggestion.

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

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CLAIRE

Teddy threw the switch. The heavy machine hummed and spun up to full speed. It drew a lot of power, and dimmed the lights for a moment in the great house. Teddy dropped in the first few items and the sharp blades did their work without bogging down. Next, a few more items, some sweetener, and a bit of liquid to thin the pink slurry. He poured the finished blend into some tall glasses, serving his unaware house guests most of the annoying neighbor that made the mistake of irritating Teddy by playing his dammed accordion so late every night.

###

“Better switch than fight.” The new motto was posted inside the door of the clubhouse. The Khaki Scouts voted to allow girls, homosexuals, and transgender members into their organization. They had fought long and hard, using the power of the national council and the great church in Utah to ban certain applicants, but there was so much pressure and press against them the last few years, they gave in and re-thought their initial ban and organizational policies. Rather than fight the courts and lawsuits, they opened their membership to anyone who applied, except of course, ignorant, bald-headed coffee house proprietors.

###

Miss Tuttinhamshrope made sure all students saw the willow switch hung behind her desk. She had permission from all the parents to apply the switch to the backside of any student that talked back, spat, smoked, swore, talked out of turn, was tardy, wore their pants low, acted slutty, misspelled words, texted during lectures, answered out of turn, lied, cheated on exams and quizzes, bullied, were late with assignments, got out of their seat, wet their pants, burped, farted, made faces or teased, picked their nose, pulled hair, made obscene gestures, or showed any sort of disrespect to an adult.

###

The squirrel’s switch wiggled and almost vibrated with excitement, as it discovered a bag of unsalted cashews on the little deck off the kitchen. Grandma was cooking and “absent mindedly” left the cashews on the table. The hungry squirrel tore at the cellophane bag and some cashews tumbled out. As he chattered and barked, his friends and his mate came running to gather up what they could, stuffing them in their mouths and retreating to the nest, high in the tree. The following week, the squirrels had bags of peanuts left on the table, then pecans, walnuts, hazels and brazils.

JEFFREY

Switched at Birth
by Jeffrey Fischer

Although I grew up in a loving household, I always felt a little out of place. Where my parents were short and squat, I was tall and lean. They had dark, smooth skin, while I was light-skinned and hairy. They insisted on a protein-heavy diet; I was a vegetarian.

One day my suspicions were confirmed. A wandering minstrel said I was switched at birth, and my real parents had raised another child.

“This is terrible!” I said.

He insisted I had the better of the deal. “You are the heir to the kingdom.”

“But it’s the frog kingdom. I’m the prince of the frogs! What could be worse?”

The minstrel strummed a chord. “Well, young princeling, your true parents are chefs in a French restaurant.” He licked his lips. “Truth be told, the lad’s legs were delicious.”

***

A Different Perspective
by Jeffrey Fischer

My boarding school was big on discipline. Minor misbehaving earned you extra chores. Medium-sized trouble, like being caught smoking, got the extra chores and additional hours of phys ed. But major infractions brought out the switch, an old, rough one, with a well-worn handle. As the punishment was public, this was both painful and embarrassing.

When the boys took control of the school and kept the faculty as prisoners, we decided that turn about was fair play. But seeing Mr. Melmick’s bare ass quickly dissuaded us of that. From then on, misbehaving teachers just earned demerits.

LIZZIE

The monster inside

Sometimes there’s a feeling that makes the mind stray away. He flipped a coin. The break-up was so sudden and most of all foolish. Heads. He would look her up and make amends. Valentine’s was coming up and it seemed to be the right moment. She would be impressed and would leap into his arms, an open smile on her beautiful face. When he showed up at her door, a rose in hand, she had already moved on. She was going out with someone else. His mind roamed away once more, this time desperately trying to avoid the switch over.

TOM

Hand Cranked

Grandmother was displeased with me. She told me to go find a switch in the backyard. I had no idea what I did wrong, but by the dead look in her eyes I knew I must find an appropriate switch or risk raising the level of her discontent. So I cut off a willow branch about the thickness of my thumb and hoped for the best. Grandmother exam it and laughed. “No child one of these switches.” She connected the weathered switch to the magneto. Grandmother had been a gegeneur is Sothern Algeria. I woke up with three broken teeth.

SERENDIPITY

Number two yawned, scratching his crotch reflectively.

Number Three looked at him critically: “You’re becoming a bit of a porker!”

“Hey, you shut it! You’re jealous, just because you do all the running around”

“Hardly a job, is it… flicking switches?”

Number Three looked longingly at the invitingly large switch on the control panel…

“Can I, just this once…?”

“Bugger off!”

The bickering was interrupted by the telephone’s ring; Number Two snatched the handset.

“Yes boss! Immediately!”

“What did he say?”, asked Number Three.

“He said”, replied Jesus, reaching across and flicking the switch to ‘ON’…

“Let there be light!”

AEQUITAS

We called her Sergeant Major due to her fondness for corporal punishment. We were lined up outside her classroom for dinner. I had a green ticket. A green ticket meant your father had died. I was embarrassed so i was acting out. Sergeant Major heard me and brought me in to stand in front of her class and receive punishment. She used a leather strap rather than a switch. She put her body in to the swing of the strap making for an effective cracking noise as she delivered.

MUNSI

After the Adventure

By Christopher Munroe

…I’d switched the idol for a forgery. So by the time Heinrich’s crew found the temple and deactivated its booby-traps, I’d long since absconded with the treasure.

That’s where my troubles began.

I don’t know the first thing about fencing ancient artifacts, and I’d financed the expedition on money borrowed from people who wouldn’t accept “…once I find a buyer” in lieu of cash.

And to make matters worse, Heinrich will definitely figure out that I have the thing eventually.

He’s not stupid.

I expect this isn’t over…

…also, there’s a horrible curse, but that’s a story for another day.

TURA

“Mr. Benn visits Second Life”

Mr. Benn arrived at the costume shop, and went in. As if by magic, the shopkeeper appeared. “I have something new today,” said the shopkeeper. “Would you like to switch bodies?”

“That sounds interesting,” said Mr. Benn. He chose a purple-haired anthropomorphic cat with a long, bushy tail. Then he went out by the other door, the one that might lead to adventures.

On the rolling green hills, all kinds of strange buildings popped into view around him. Some of them floated right up in the sky.

“Well,” he said, waving his new tail, “this will certainly be an adventure!”

DONDO

The bet was simple. If my team won, I decided on the date and what she’d wear, and if she won, she’d decide. Her team won, and I regret leaving the terms of the bet so open.
She said that we’d reverse roles tonight. She would hold the doors open, she’d pay for dinner, and she would wear the pants.
I went along with all of that, even wearing heels.
But I’m having trouble with her last request, how do I give up the one thing I’ve never shared?

I’ll cry when I hand her the keys to my Mustang.

WHISKEY

Switch on a Smile
“I learned at a young age how to tell truths cloaked in humor. If you can make someone laugh, you can say anything out loud. Even the darkest words aren’t so heavy when they’re framed in sarcasm or jest. And if I ever went too far, said too much, opened my mouth just a little too wide and let some of the scary stuff spill out, well, I could always switch on a smile and say, “I was just joking.” No matter. It was just a joke.”

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

“Daaaaaaad!”

I trudge half-asleep down the dark hallway. My feet are freezing on the hardwood floor.

“Daaaaaaaaa-”

I open the door mid-yell and survey the room. Nothing under the bed. Window closed. But there’s a red glow and hint of sulphur from the closet.

I grab the SuperSoaker from his shelf and open the closet door. A demon bares it’s teeth at me. I pull the trigger and cover it in holy water.

“Done,” I tell my son. “Now go back to sleep.”

“Can I have a drink of water?” he asks.

I raise the squirt gun again.

BOTGIRL

Screech! The car lurched to a halt. The acorn I’d thrown with all my might hit the driver in his face. I dropped from the tree and ran home. A minute later he pounded on our door. My father answered and took the brunt of the driver’s rage. Next thing I knew, I was getting spanked for the first time in my life. It didn’t go well. I was so upset that a blood vessel burst in my eye. My father sprained his wrist. That was also the last time I was spanked. Good thing he didn’t use a switch.

RICK

It all unfolded right there on the porch.
Them 5 bullies was goading the tall nerdy boys into a fight!
Both tall, skinny, wore glasses … and their mamas dressed them kinda funny!
The shorter nerd reckoned the taller boy was more scared and started in with some name callin and such.
The taller boy kept saying “I don’t wanna fight you”, then the mouthy nerd said “you’re just a damn yankee” …
… was like he’d flipped a switch!
The taller boy, lost it, punched him square in the face!
Knocked him out!
Blood everywhere!
Them bullies ought be ashamed of themselves!

CLIFF

You learn a lot when your parents are hillbillies. I’m sorry, Redneck Americans. Anyway, when I misbehaved as a kid, my dad would send me outside to get a switch off of one of the trees. He’d use it to raise welts on my backside. So this one time I thought I’d be funny. Instead of the woods, I went to the garage and brought back a light switch. Dad wired me up to a car battery and flipped the switch a few times. To this day, I can’t go in a hardware store without twitching just a little bit.

BONCHANCE AND SEVI

Bait N Switch

Pepe had a plan!
He knew that he was a born leader, he just needed followers!

Gain control of the minds of a bunch of troops and all else will fall into place.
Pepe traded his tea to a Chinaman for a thousand Hersey kisses.
How deep into the trenches could he get with these as his lure to join his plight.

I mean seriously, who can resist a milk chocolaty kiss?
Mind you these were specially laced milky kisses…
Just take out a bit of the center chocolate and switch it with the right drug and viola an army!

REDGODDESS

The hotel goes all out on Valentine’s Day. The penthouse suites are scattered in flower petals, couples with the Cupid Package get champagne. When did Valentine’s Day become a litmus test for relationships? Lola had made a switch to lower her expectations. No dates on February 14! Not sure when she lost the romance. Perhaps the thoughtless gifts of past lovers. She was almost in tears when she saw a book and a card leaning on her door. “I never liked poetry until I met you. I think of you when reading this.” Lola picked up a worn copy of Anais Nin. She smiled.

ZACKMANN

The villain tied her hostage to a railroad track then made the call “Give me a bazillion dollars or bad haircut boy has sung his last song”
The hostage started chanting “Oh baby baby baby Oh”
The young woman really really wished she had been able to gag her victim. She placed her phone where his screams could be heard, The train was coming at him fast or would have been if not changed directions at the switching station.
She asked “I won’t go overboard and kill you because then the radio would play your songs constantly for several months.”

NORVAL JOE

“Be ready to flip that switch when I shout ‘go'”, Flerdy told Borle, pointing to a silver toggle on the console.
Borle held out his hand, ready to act.
The hyperdrive capacitors screamed as they wound higher and higher.
Flerdy struck an ancient tuning fork and placed its base against the ship’s console. When the whining drives matched the fork’s tone, Flerdy screamed, “Go.”
With a flick, everything went black, inside the ship and out.
In the sudden silence, Flerdy said, “The switch engaged a string drive. It’s theoretical. We’ll have to wait to see if it takes us somewhere.”

Patrick groaned beneath a tremendous weight. He desperately sucked air into his burning lungs to keep from passing out.
“Do you give?” Mangus asked from his perch on his brother’s shoulder blades.
“No,” he wheezed.
“You’re a changeling, you know. Fairies came to switch the real Patrick for the worst kind of demon when you were just a wee babe.”
“You’re the demon,” Patrick cried at his brother.
The wiener dog smiled an evil grin. He knew he was the changeling. The malicious fairy who switched him with the Irish Wolf hound pup hadn’t been the cleverest of the bunch.

DANNY DWYER

“Do I hit the switch now?,” the conductor in training asked the experienced train conductor. “Ah, Ya, might be a good idea since we are speeding into the station.” The Trainee flicked the switch. The train suddenly slowed down, then calmly entered the subway platform, before coming to a swift, yet gentle stop. “What’s the trick to conducting a subway for as long as you have?,” the kid asked the senior. “Don’t become an alcoholic,” the conductor retorted. The Trainee replied, “Honestly, how did you conduct a subway for over 30 years without being an alcoholic?” “Just flick the damn switch.”

JUSTIN

Mars City, new foothold of the human race, and a new home of horror and death. The scientists unearthed something, and like any good scientist, they poked it, prodded it, and opened up a gate to Hell. Now Delta Labs is filled with demons and baby Satans, clawing at my armor, reaching for my soul. I hope this room has supplies. What? Lights switched off, I hear a door open… the hell? Demon with a chainsaw?! The only light is from the shotgun blasts, illuminating teeth, blood and chain. I’ve got to get a better post next tour of duty.

PLANET Z

We couldn’t trust Ted with a dog or cat.

Or a fish.
Or a mouse.
Or…

After we tried every pet in the pet store, we finally got Ted a pet can of soup.

That’s right. We gave Ted a pet can of soup.

It’s safe.
It’s cheap.
And we can always buy another.

Ted walked up and down the soup aisle, unable to select a can.

“I want to take them all home with me!” he cried.

“Just one,” I said.

In the end, he went with a packet of Lipton mix.

So it could fit in his pocket.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge, 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 Black.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

• Claire Voiant
• Serendipidy Haven
• Tom
• Jeffrey
• Munsi
• Carmsie
• Lizzie
• Erika Dorland
• Rick
• Tura Brezoianu
• Zackmann
• Cliff – Uncle Monster
• Steven Saus
• Bonchance and Sevi
• Justin
• Norval Joe
• Frej Wasastjerna
• Singh
• Planet Z

The next 100 word stories weekly challenge is on the topic of Switch.

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

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CLAIRE

He left me with a black eye and a loose tooth. I picked the fight during half time. We stood face to face, and he said something about removing his jacket, and pow! One to the mouth with a quick, straight right, and a left jab to the eye. One-two! I stood there, stunned, more embarrassed than hurt. He was a country boy, and his dad or his big brother taught him the trick that caused me to lose two front teeth at thirteen. I walked away, head down, staying in the shadows of the stadium lights, crying and embarrassed.

#

Black is the color of my true love’s hair, although it is getting very thin. She does everything she can to thicken it up, or treat it to give it more body and cover, but I can still see the bare and thinning patches. I want to suggest she get a smart hat, or silk scarf, but then I would have to explain why, and it would be too awkward or embarrassing for both of us. She never says anything about the patches of dry skin or little rashes that pop up on my face so often. Bless this woman.

#

The black ones are favorites. Yellow, second. When I was a kid, I used to put a black one in one nostril and a yellow one in the other, and go on about my play. After the jelly beans warmed, the sweet smell of licorice and lemon filled my nose. Folks would give me a sidelong glance, but never say anything. When I went into Mister Fong’s store to get a soda, I had forgotten the jewels in my nostrils. He was a quiet, polite man, and didn’t say anything, although he offered a hankie after I bought my drink.

#

The edge of the room at the ceiling was covered with a smoky swath of black mold. Deadly I heard, or at least not good to breathe. We got the house cheap, but had to rip out all the interior walls and insulation. You could wring water out of the fiberglass. Some of the studs were rotten, and had to be removed. Wire was re-rerouted, and some replaced. The seller was a deacon in the church, and when he and his wife signed the contract, they smiled warmly and gave us the fine, gold Parker they signed the contract with.

SERENDIPITY

Black Anniversary

Appetiser

The car came to an abrupt halt and he glowered at me, before exiting, slamming the door behind him in the blackest of his black moods.

It was my fault we were late of course, why could I never be ready on time? This time though, it was intentional – payback for the affair that he thought I didn’t know about. The same affair that had driven me into the arms of Marco.

Almost dragging me into the restaurant, we were led to our table – the waiter, hovering anxiously, could obviously sense the tension.

“It’s our anniversary!”, I explained, smiling broadly.

Entree

I ordered the garlic mushrooms, eliciting a snide comment about their effect on anniversary kisses. I can’t remember the last time we kissed and meant it, garlic or not.

He settled for prawn cocktail – I knew he would… so predictable, and oh, so boring. I’ve never known someone so black and white; and you can forget any shades of grey!

We ate in stony silence, as my thoughts turned to Marco and the week in Europe we’d planned – I smiled at the thought of the tickets in my clutch bag, resting on the table, right in front of his eyes.

Main

The main courses arrived – my venison cooked to perfection, whilst he wouldn’t have noticed if his seafood linguine was half-cooked and cold, such was the relish with which he wolfed it down!

Ten minutes later, and he was looking decidedly queasy, no doubt thanks to the rat poison lacing his black, squid ink pasta sauce. The idiot just sat there, too damn proud to make a fuss.

I asked him if he was alright, only to receive a withering look. Well, what did I care anyway?

The waiter appeared, clearing our plates away and slipping me a surreptitious wink.

Dessert

“I’ll order for you”.

He was in no state to argue; I signalled our waiter – Marco – and pointed to the menu – “This please, and black coffee”.

The desserts arrived – his looked good enough to eat – I’d spent hours preparing it while he was in work.

I could see he was struggling: a panic-stricken look filled his face as the battery acid sorbet worked its way into his system. Desperately, he grabbed his strychnine-laced espresso, downing it in one…

He’d never complain about my cooking again!

“I’m just going to powder my nose”, I murmured, slipping from my seat…

TOM

Leave the Light On

Blackness had never been my friend. As a child I had multiple rituals to keep it at bay. The closet door had to be ajar exactly ¼ inch. Bedroom door ½ inch to maintain the respective glow from each space which grayed the heart of blackness. The radio had to be tuned to Music Till Dawn. A sheet had to be on top of the navy blanket covering face, feet, and hand. As a child I thought Monsters hide in the black. These rings of early warning keep me safe. At 60 I’ve learned the Monsters hide in the white.

JEFFREY

Closing Time
by Jeffrey Fischer

I staggered, a look of shock on my face. The bastard had shot me! Oddly, I felt no pain. The coward took a last look at me, stuffed the gun down his waistband, and fled. I tried to pull my Glock, but found that I couldn’t move my arm. Instead, I toppled over backward, hitting my head on two bar stools before landing on the floor, sticky with spilled drinks.

I stared at the ceiling, the soft recessed lights boring into my eyes. I couldn’t blink, I couldn’t move, I could only look at those lights, now starting to dim. Fade to black. It was closing time.

The Usual Tipple
by Jeffrey Fischer

The two strangers sat next to one another at the otherwise empty bar. They started talking, as men sometimes do.

“I’ll get the next around,” Ray, in an usually generous mood, said, signalling to the bartender. “What’s yours?”

Gary said, “Johnnie Black.” The bartender reached for the bottle and poured, then pushed the glass toward Gary. He took a sip.

Ray hoped his credit card wouldn’t be rejected. He kicked himself for not finding out what Gary was drinking before impulsively offering to buy the round.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what makes the Black Label so good?”

Gary considered the question for a moment. “Well, there’s the smooth, smoky taste, but…”

“But?”

“But I’d be a liar if I didn’t say it tastes especially fine when someone else is paying.”

MUNSI

I Finally Get Around to Endorsing an Energy Drink

By Christopher Munroe

I am thirsty.

Life is empty.

Why? Why isn’t there an energy drink for me?

Isn’t there?

Bev-rage, an energy drink by Goths, for Goths, is finally available, assuming you can face the conformists at your local store.

Available in three flavors, Black as Night Black Current, Black as the Raven’s Wing Black Cherry and Black as my Soul Salt-Cola, Bev-rage provides the energy you need for moping, writing poetry, or just sitting alone listening to old Cure records through oversized headphones.

All the activities a Goth might need energy for…

Bev-rage, buy it.

Drink it.

Quench your existential thirst.

CARMSIE

The blackness of coffee

From lips to ears and back again sad memories were whispered. Silver spoons in coffee mugs clinked in the background.

A door opened. Heads turned and the room froze.

Mum walked in.

As she took a seat several voices nervously tumbled over each other.

“He’ll be missed.”

“We all loved him”.

“He’s at peace.”

Mum smiled wanly.

“Have a coffee. You’ll feel better,” suggested Aunty Joan. The others nodded.

While she sat sipping her coffee an ocean of tears tracked crookedly down Mum’s cheeks.

My family thinks the blackness of coffee cures everything … but it doesn’t.

LIZZIE

“Don’t touch the button, Cindy,” commanded Tommy to his cousin.

“Why not?”

“You’ll be sucked into that keyhole,” he pointed at the pantry door.

“What’s inside the keyhole?”

“A box…” Tommy was enjoying this.

“What’s inside the box?”

“A black hole,” Tommy replied.

“What’s in the black hole?”

Tommy thought nothing, but reconsidered, because Cindy was full of questions these days.

“You…”

Cindy giggled.

“How can I be there if I am here?”

“Black magic…”

That’s when Cindy pressed the button.

“Where’s Tommy?”asked her aunt when she realized the kids were too silent.

“In the black hole… perhaps with me.”

ERIKA

Black

His irises expanded in the candlelight while she considered that all eyes have black centers.

Windows to the soul, she thought on an inhale as he fingered her chin.

Wicks crackled, held transfixed in the bittersweet burn of their siren flames. Vague memories of a preacher’s sermon on abstinence rippled across her tongue in a fleeting attempt at resistance, but the night swelled with instinct as the lovers pulsated toward midnight.

The blackness between stars howled like a wolf and caressed her soul with slick onyx fingers. Craving midnight’s touch, she sacrificed herself to the hypnotic burn of dark hours.

RICK

Her first memories were of auras.
Shifting, sparkling, brightly colored emanations …
each singularly unique!
Each a window to the soul from which it radiated.
She loved to meet the people with the bright auras,
and had learned to avoid those who had lost their sparkle and shine!

She saw him as he walked toward her.
She stopped in her tracks, her mouth open wide.
His aura had no color, no sparkle … no emanation.
It sucked from the auras of others …
diminishing them.

An aura so BLACK!!!
She knew she faced a demon!
She shrank back …
Just a child

TURA

I remember the blacksmith. He was actually black, the only black man we’d ever seen. He called himself Jack, but it can’t have been his real name. Where did he come from? How did he fetch up there? He told some tall tales to us children, but he never really said.

One day the King’s men came, demanding one man from every village. Later, they would take more. One lad volunteered (dead now, of course), but they insisted on taking Jack as well. I think they knew who he was.

I never saw him again. I don’t know what he’d done, back wherever he had called home. His story is gone, ground into the mud like so many others, in the war.

ZACKMANN

So glad it is the new year and all the apocalypses of 2012 have been avoided. I was very disappointed that several times I received emails from a certain electronics store telling me it is like Black Friday all over again. The Email reads like a horror version of Groundhog’s Day in which you relive the worst shopping experiences of your life. Day after day of standing in long lines in subzero weather to not be able to buy anything you came in for because nothing in the ad is stocked. Does reminding us of this pain really increase sales?

CLIFF

My senior year of college, I interned at a newspaper staffed by a bunch of salty old guys who were far from politically correct. After the unfortunate article about Senator Ruiz, the board of directors insisted that the newspaper install censoring software. All offensive language was sanitized before publication. The journalists loved it. They didn’t have to monitor themselves anymore. Lazy writing and bad habits were cleaned up automatically. Even the editors stopped relying on their own judgment. It all fell apart when the headline on the local section proclaimed “After years of debt, city firmly in the African American”.

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY

The third minute ends, and everyone’s heart takes a beat.

If it can. For some, the strain is too much. Others were flying, driving, swimming, and are now smears on the landscape.

Everyone else is alive again.

There were no gates. No fires. No waiting virgins, or cycles, or wheels, or reincarnation.

Just black. Absence. Nothing. No feelings, no sensation, no joy, no fear.

But now, three minutes after everyone’s heart stopped, they know what waits.

And no matter how hard they pray in stone boxes, worship the planet among the plants, praise someone, anyone’s glory, they know.

They know.

BONCHANCE ND SEVI

White by Severina Halostar and Bonchance Longfall

This is the season of my discontent.
Everywhere I turn there is a white horizon.
The ability to discern objects from this desert of frozen water has long since left.
Shutting eyes tightly, feebly fighting off the blinding whiteness bestows red relief only for a moment.

Exhausted from my body’s endeavour to transform energy to heat,
through endless shivering, saps all remaining vigour and the cold sinks deeper into my soul.

As I lay in my bed of white covered in a sky of pale,

I embrace the bitter cold. I feel slumber taking me.

Gradually, all fades to black.

JUSTIN

Colonial Marine Arnie was separated from his squad, if there was a squad left. The corridor was long, lights flickered. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down onto his rifle, which pointed the way into every dark corner.

Arnie looked up. Something was above him, in the girders and the wires, he knew it. No reason or rhyme, he just knew it. Every few yards, he looked up, but nothing.

He looked up again, and all he saw was teeth. He backpedaled, screaming until the gun clicked empty, leaving only himself, and an alien corpse smoldering in the corridor.

NORVAL JOE

“You know. Maybe we slipped through a black hole. We were getting really close to the galactic center,” Borle Phlegmbburn suggested.
“I wouldn’t think so,” Flerdy Torquespindle replied sarcastically. “First of all, you’re supposed to spend eternity, falling over the brink into the black hole, while your final seconds stretch out infinitely. Besides, we would either be blasted back out as light energy or consumed in the hole.”
Flerdy entered data into his ship’s computer.
“What are you doing?” Borle asked.
“I’m backing up. Maybe I can reverse this weird jump if we just go back the way we came.”

Leopold gazed into the depths of her eyes. Two solid black pools reflected his own image back to him. His insecurity and doubt were blatantly obvious, even with his images in miniature. He loved her, yet he was incapable of telling her so.
There was aristocracy in her line and nothing but mundane commoners in his. Her sire Lord Willhelm Pookie Schnapps and her dam, Princess Magdalena Frankfurt Wiseburger.
And his parents, they just called them Shultz and Helga; how plebeian.
She would be the queen of the show, and he, just a plain, old, black and tan weiner dog.

FREJ

Black. That was all he saw. Black space, pricked by stars. Even Zeta Reticuli was eclipsed by Beachball.

He took his binoculars, set them to maximum amplification and high magnification, and swept the starfields.

Nothing.

He flipped his fighter upside down to scan the other half of the sky. Still nothing.

An IR scan: again, nothing.

The enemy ship was too far away and too cold…

Or not. He had an idea. He scanned Beachball in IR.

There! The silhouette of an enemy fighter, cold against the warm planet!

He aimed carefully and fired.

An explosion, then the blackness returned.

SINGH

Singing the Black Dog

I have been bitten by the black dog, the one frothing at the mouth for no reason. Yes, she left the india-inked note on my table with a black rose; and now the madness does not stop. All I have is her heartless black rose of a poem that makes me froth at the mouth each time it sings inside me:

Down we lie
on the grass each night
and hear the snap of firelight
you nestle back – I am your piece of turf
we face the crash of the surf
how long can we lie
under black sky
adieu

PLANET Z

I take my coffee black.

No, not without sugar, cream, or milk.

Or whiskey.

Black. As in solid black.

Pour some ink in there. As long as it’s black.

Got some paint? Better be watercolor. Because tempera and house paint are way too thick for coffee.

Take a step back.

Does that look black enough?

No?

Then turn out the lights. Board up the windows, and put blankets over the boards.

Not dark enough?

Then cover your eyes with cotton and wrap a scarf around your head.

And…

Shit. I tipped over the coffee mug.

Have you got a flashlight?