Pillows

569880

After a while, a pillow soaks up so much sweat that you can’t wash it out.
It’s time to go pillow shopping.
Do you fill it with down? Cotton batting? Memory foam?
Here’s a suggestion: clouds.
I mean, you look up and you see them all over. And they look so soft and fluffy.
Why not clouds?
Go skydiving on a cloudy day and bring a big plastic bag. Then, as you’re falling, scoop the cloud into the bag.
Once you’re on the ground, pour the cloud into a pillowcase and sew it shut.
How comfy. How restful.
Sleep now.

Weekly Challenge #16 – Rollercoaster & Farmers

6,161,417

Welcome to the sixteenth 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 rollercoaster and farmers.
Ten stories were submitted this week: four rookies, and the never-ending volcano of insanity from Planet Z.
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorite:

Who had the best story this week?
Elisson of blog d’Elisson
Caroline
Houston Keys
Stephen
Debbie
Andrew of Dodgeblogium
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Laieanna
Rahel of Elms In The Yard
Kolek of the Kollektive
The Mystery Man from Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Thanks to everyone for sending in their stories, and I look forward to what you’ve got to write (and say) next week.
The theme will be posted shortly, and for God’s sake don’t blame me for it. You’re the ones who voted.

Coffin Shopping

728818

Oliver patted the lining of the coffin. “It’s very comfortable,” he said.
“Comfortable?” asked Ellen.
“Yes,” said Oliver. “Care to try it out?”
Oliver pushed her into the coffin and slammed the lid shut.
He could just barely hear Ellen’s muffled screaming and hammering on the lid.
Oliver waited for her to quiet down before opening it again.
“It’s also soundproof,” said Oliver.
“Soundproof? Comfortable?” gasped Ellen. “Why would I need those for my father?”
“Wait… you aren’t a smuggler?” asked Oliver.
“No.”
Oliver slammed the lid shut again and called for a pickup.
Damned secretary, marking the appointments wrong.

By The Axe

615337

Lying under a massive oak, his crushed chest filled with one last gasp of air, Earl remembered what his father told him many years ago.
“Live by the sword, die by the sword,” he said.
“But I don’t use a sword,” said Earl. “I use an axe.”
Earl’s father frowned. “I don’t know how you’ll die,” he said. “Maybe you should switch to a sword?”
“Swords aren’t very good at chopping down trees,” said Earl.
“Then I guess you’ll die by the tree,” said Earl’s father. “Live by the axe, die by the tree.”
“Timber,” whispered Earl, and he died.

The Devil’s Due

643080

Every day, the Devil puts himself on trial for all of his evil deeds.
The evidence is presented in its entirety, from the dawn of Creation to the moment the judge bangs his gavel.
Witnesses take the stand, present their testimony, and shuffle off to make room for the next victim of The Devil.
The Devil offers no defense, and he throws himself upon the mercy of the court.
Without fail, the jury always quickly finds him innocent.
The Devil scowls, and leaves the court a free man.
“Would they honestly find me guilty, I’d let them leave,” he says.

Boxed Up

864543

Brad woke up in darkness, a splitting headache his only companion. He rubbed the back of his head and then felt around him…
Straw… wooden floor… wooden walls… a low wooden ceiling… faint light leaking through the slats…
Brad decided he was in a crate.
He listened… ocean waves?
“Hello?” he shouted.
He waited. No response.
Brad kicked at the wooden slats until they splintered.
He peered out from the hole… a sandy beach, with the sun setting over the water.
“Excellent,” he said to no one.
He spent a week on the island, then called for a pickup time.

Shakesphere

734926

“All the world’s a stage,” said The Immortal Bard.
Little did he know, a thousand years after he said that a team of astronauts and planetary engineers would transform one of Saturn’s moons into an orbiting open-air theater.
Well, open-space theater. Despite several attempts to enclose the moon with an atmosphere, the semi-permeable membrane bubble kept leaking and bursting under the pressure.
The remote-controlled gargantuan robots were tied to neural pickups in the actors brains.
Someone backstage said “MacBeth” and cursed the production. Next thing we knew the planetoid had shattered.
Thank goodness for armored spacesuits and extra oxygen tanks.

Prison For Life

600295

Seventy years ago, Allistar Muggs had been sentenced to life in prison without parole.
Turns out he’d sold his soul to The Devil so he could live forever.
Nobody believed him at first, but Allistar didn’t age a day as the years passed by. Nor did the increasingly brutal assassination attempts ever succeed.
He always seemed to heal up without so much as a scar, missing tooth, or torn-off finger. He’d wake up the next morning, same as the day they gave him a number to wear.
We sealed the freak in concrete and buried him in the prison yard.

Weekly Challenge #15 – Hill

5890267

Welcome to the fifteenth 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 hill.
Nine stories were submitted this week:two rookies, and the never-ending regurgitation of madness from Planet Z.
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorite:

Who had the best story this week?
Marcus of LITB
Laeianna
Cynthia
Brandon
Kolek from the Kolektive
Elisson of blog d’Elisson
Will from Smart Bomb Radio
Andrew from Dodgeblogium
The Mystery Man From Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Thanks to everyone for sending in their stories, and I look forward to what you’ve got to write (and say) next week.
The theme will be posted shortly, and for God’s sake don’t blame me for it. You’re the ones who voted.

The Gates Of Heaven

584905

Centuries went by, and Peter made a list of the things that annoyed him about Heaven.
He wondered about the Pearly Gates. Why have gates without a fence?
Then there were the harps. They were all left-handed.
Finally, nobody was sweeping up all the molting from the angels’ wings. Feathers feathers, everywhere.
One day, there was a lull in the death count, or maybe everybody dying that day was far too evil.
Either way, he had some time, so he asked God about his list.
God smiled. “I work in mysterious ways.”
Peter nodded, and went back to the Gates.