He lives on Elephant Street

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Mother told me to look both ways before crossing the street.
To the left, I saw an elephant. It looked sad and lonely.
To the right, I saw a jolly minstrel being attacked by kids with rocks. He looked frustrated at the abuse.
So I tell the minstrel to go cheer up the elephant.
He does, and the elephant begins to dance happily to the merry tune.
All these wonderful opportunities to make others happy, why should I ever cross the street?
Then I hear a sickening splat.
The elephant has crushed the minstrel.
Is the light green yet?
RUN!

Sweet Potato Fries

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There’s some thing special about sweet potato fries.
I’m sure you’ve eaten mountains and mountains of ordinary fries. Even dipped them in all sorts of stuff – ketchup, mustard, and even mayonnaise like in that movie.
But no matter how you get them – curly, crinkle-cut or whatever – they’re still the same potatoes in there.
So, for a change, that’s why you should try some sweet potato fries.
Just lay them out on a tray in the oven, bake ’em, and then get some ranch dressing to dip them in.
A little something different… well, until you get bored.
And go back.

Filthy

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The kitchen was positively, absolutely filthy.
Dishes piled up to the ceiling. Rats chewing on open boxes of instant pasta in the corner.
And the stove, well, I won’t tell you about the stove.
It was so repulsive, not even the rats would go near there. Cockroaches didn’t dare explore the greasy mountains caked in the corners of what used to be burners.
“So, what do you think?” asked the landlord.
“Well, the kitchen needs some serious work,” said the agent. “But about those rats…”
“Yes?” asked the landlord.
“Can I keep them as pets?” he said. “They’re so cuuuuuute!”

Screaming

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We landed on the planet’s other moon and felt a strange vibration on our helmets.
“Do you hear screaming?” asks the captain.
We sit and listen.
It sounds like every child on the moon is screaming at the top of his lungs.
Except – the moon’s uninhabited.
“Ghosts?” I ask.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” said the captain.
And he’s right.
Sure enough, the entire moon is a series of windy canyons. The wind rushing through the valleys sounds like screams.
Still, we had to soundproof our helmets before conducting the survey.
And nobody wants to come back here, either.

Weekly Challenge #86 – Snow

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Welcome to the eighty-sixth 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 selected by Stuart Warf.
It’s Snow
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which stories were the best from Weekly Challenge #86?
Tony Folino
Hedgie Till
Tom from Footnote
Anji Bee from Chillcast
Guy David from Guy David dot com
JD White
Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
Yxes from Podmafia
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

TONY FOLINO

As the snow fell, the team lined up in formation. The football felt like a block of ice. He thought his fingertips were going to snap off. He lost all feeling in his hands an hour ago. The best he could do to catch and hold the ball was to use a combination of useless hands and numb arms to cradle the ball against his frigid body. An alarm sounded and he turned and walked out door, took off his gloves and motioned to the administrator. “That new simulator feels so real. Wanna get a beer?”

HEDGIE

Early one morning at a New Hampshire college, a wide eyed Bermuda born freshman stared in wonder at the gently falling snow. Winter was here! Giddy with excitement, she ran outside and leapt into a small drift. She made snow angels and had snowball fights with friends for hours. Her dream of a snowy winter had come true! A few weeks later, knee deep in drifts and her arms full of books, a group of seniors that had witnessed her first snow filled morning chuckled to themselves as they heard her muttering “fucking snow. I can’t wait to go home!”.

TOM

See Snow.
Fall snow Fall.
See Dad.
See big shovel.
Shovel dad Shovel.
The snow is white.
The dad is red.
Dad like the snow has fallen.
See Mom.
See Phone.
Call mom call
before Dad dies.
Down our street come the white van
With backward letters.
Hurray van Hurray.
See the tires spin
See the van spin.
Crash van Crash
into the ditch.
See Mom.
See Tears.
Fall tears Fall.
The air is very still.
The dad is very still
See Sky.
Gray sky Gray.
See Snow.
See Dad.
Fall snow Fall
cover-up the dad.

ANJI

i am a southern california gal through and through. you can hear it in my accent, that calls to mind slacking surfers; you can see it in my style — the penchant for year round bare feet; but most of all you can sense it in my attitude — that laid back, chilled out, keep it mellow vibe i maintain despite my workload or surroundings. but once upon a time, when i was still a teen, i moved to arizona with my mother for a year. now most people associate arizona with extreme dry heat, but in flagstaff, they get snow.

GUY

The snow has been falling, dripping on my heart for days, and it is now frozen. No sound is coming out, no internal clock ticking, clicking the days of my mortal prison away. Gone are the days, chased by time rushing by, washing me away in it’s tidy tide, forgotten in a prison of ice.
The rain will wash my pain away, leave me clean, cold and still. I’m forever blue, in a crystalized ice cage, here I stay, unmoving, uncaring, for all my cares are gone, forgotten, as I forever sleep, with a frozen heart, buried under deep snow.

JD

I cover my one sin with other sins
First I commented one sin in ignorance
Then I lied to keep hidden that sin, this time not in ignorance
After the first lie another lie is created and after that, another follows
Soon the lies are too many to count and my mind,
spinning out of control,
bends under the effort to maintain a reality that is not real
The mind bends but it does not break.
Is there a breaking point?
Snow covers the ground as far as my eyes can see
Would that pure snow could cover my sins.

HOUSTON

We open with young Karen crying over the puddle which used to be
Frosty the Snowman.
Karen, what’s wrong?
Santa, it’s Frosty, he’s melted.
Ho, Ho, Ho. Don’t you worry Karen; Frosty is made from “Christmas
Snow.” Once he gets a blast of�
But Santa!
What! I mean, yes Karen.
But Santa, Frosty was starting to melt. WAIT! DON’T OPEN THE DOOR!
But it was too late. The Christmas Wind brought Frosty back to life.
Happy birthday! What the [REDACTED]??? Yellow snow?
Now it is a little known fact that Frosty had the strongest pimp slap
of all the snowmen.

LAIEANNA

“Oh come on,” screamed the devil,
“This just isn’t right.
The people are happy.
They won’t even fight!”
His precious lake of fire
Where souls once burned in it’s flow
Was nothing more than slick and solid
And all the ground was covered in snow
In typical demon fashion, he had a blazing fit
Being sure he was heard as he’d stomp and yell
“You’re showing off up there,
Just to prove you can freeze hell.”
“You’re making a mockery of me.
You’re making me a fool.”
He turned towards his chambers, grumbling
“Just look at me; I’m turning blue.”

YXES

A fresh blanket of snow quietly covered the ground when he suddenly noticed a jacket on the path, then some pants, a hat, some shoes. “This was very odd,” he thought, as he continued picking up articles of clothing on his way to the doorway of a rugged cabin that was hidden behind the trees. He saw smoke curling out of the chimney, and candle light flickering in the windows. Then he saw her, standing in the doorway, naked, except for a red santa’s hat, and a bright red ribbon artfully wrapped around her body. She whispered, “Merry Christmas, lover.”

PLANET Z

I keep a snowball in my freezer.
I also keep a severed head in my freezer.
The severed head came off of a guy from the Census Bureau who came around the other day asking nosy questions:
�How old are you?�
�How many people live here?�
�Are you married?�
�Do you have any children?�
All these questions!
So I got angry and chopped off his head.
Looking back, I probably should have just hit the guy with the snowball.
I could really use the space in the freezer that the severed head takes up.
And the snowball, too, I guess.

Sleepy Time

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It’s sleepy time, but I don’t want to go to sleep.
I want to think about strange things all night long and write them down.
Really strange things.
Like, did you know that you can’t hide behind Swiss cheese?
People looking for you can see right through it because Swiss cheese has holes.
And people can see through holes. Right through them.
You can hide behind Cheddar cheese just fine, but not Swiss cheese.
Cheddar cheese doesn’t have holes. But Swiss cheese does.
If you put holes in Cheddar cheese, does it become Swiss cheese?
Maybe.
I’ll sleep on it.

The Miracle

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The Temple was theirs again.
After much celebrating and giving thanks, it was discovered that there was only enough sacred oil to light the lamps for 1 day.
Somehow, that oil ended up lasting eight days.
Yeah, that’s the Hanukkah Miracle.
Ever tried using an oil lamp instead of candles or electric lights?
If you haven’t, well, it’s a steep learning curve.
Getting those wicks soaked just right, and then finding the right level of oil… sheesh!
Wanna know what the real Hanukkah Miracle is?
Lighting the damn things and keeping them lit all night long.
Now that’s a miracle!

The Trucks

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Around the clock, the trucks keep coming across the border.
The ones heading North are full of dirt and rocks.
The ones heading South are also full of dirt and rocks, but it’s different dirt and rocks.
We’re not sure why Canada and Mexico are sending all this stuff back and forth, but as long as their trucks keep paying the toll and buying our gas, we really don’t care.
They could haul more back and forth if they used freight trains, but some treaty requires that they use trucks.
So they are.
But why do it at all?
Strange.

Haunts Me

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My little girl was shrieking. Confused.
Her back legs were limp. She fell off the bed, dragging herself.
Scared beyond description.
I called my wife, called a cab, got dressed. Got her into a carrier and out the door.
The emergency clinic said it was a blood clot. They’d try to thin it with drugs.
When they took her in back, I heard her meowing her “WHERE’S DADDY?” cry.
Go home, they said. Sleep. Come back to check her into the day clinic.
Two hours later, they called.
I should have been there for her.
And that’s what haunts me.

Broken Notes

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Walter’s saxophone was tired of screaming out the same, broken notes every night.
Practice makes perfect, but in Walter’s case, it just made more noise.
And it made Walter’s saxophone utterly miserable.
One day, Walter tried to take the saxophone out of its case, but it had been locked.
He looked all over the place for the key, but he couldn’t find it.
He accused his neighbors of stealing the key, but none of them had taken it.
Walter didn’t want to break the lock, because it might damage the saxophone.
Never mind that the damage had already been done.