Posts from June 2009
Herbert Cralston blinked heavily. Light poured into his eyes the moment they opened, forcing him to shut them again.
He groaned.
“He is awake,” said a gargling voice.
“Very good,” responded another voice. “Dim the lights.”
Gratefully, Herbert eased his eyes open.
The faces he saw were definitely not human.
PI’s apartments are worthless, but this was mine.
The thug inside had broken my seal on the door. The tape was like my services: cheap but effective. I felt less fear than the tape, though.
I relieved my holster of its lopsidedness.
The doorknob was cold. Soon, he would be.
When they finally landed, they knew their plane would never fly again.
They gathered driftwood and heaped it into teepee-like piles. “These are not for cooking or warmth,” the captain said. “They are beacons.”
He hoarded the matches for weeks and used the last of them to signal the rescuers.
“All in.”
Timothy Thicke shivered as Evan Edgelow put all of his poker chips in the middle of the table. Thicke knew what the other onlookers didn’t: Edgelow was putting more than just his money on the line.
“I fold,” pronounced Edgelow’s opponent in disgust.
Thicke and Edgelow smiled, relieved.
In Love With an Officer
@50wordstories, June 26, 2009
“Why won’t you marry me?” he whined. She said, “Because you can’t afford a ring.” He stole one that night, and she arrested him for it.
Vitality + Experience
@50wordstories, June 21, 2009
Global warming led him to encase himself in ice from the neck down for 30 years. His head aged; his body didn’t. He became a great man.
He peered over the edge of the bridge.
“Are you sure it won’t snap?”
“It’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Hundreds of people bungie jump here every year.”
“Safely?”
“Stop worrying and jump!”
“Fine.” He jumped.
Her cellphone rang. “What happened!? He’s still alive!”
“Sorry, boss. I couldn’t do it.”
When he had finished digging, he lined the pit with plastic and ran a hose into it. He watched proudly as his makeshift swimming pool filled up.
He had always dreamed of being a lifeguard. All he needed now were some babes to save.
He put up signs and waited.
Cliven ran frantically through the streets. Where had Nogard gone?
If I were a baby zombie dragon, he asked himself, where would I go?
Before he could answer, he heard a whoosh, a shriek, and a giggle.
Nogard flew by overhead, trailing flames, carrying a pudgy six-year-old in a tiara.
“Grandmother, what big eyes you have!” said Little Red Riding Hood.
“The better to see you with, my dear,” said Grandmother.
“And what a big nose you have!”
“The better to smell you with, my dear.”
“And what big teeth!”
“Fusspots,” muttered Grandmother. ”I put in your grandfather’s dentures again.”
The whispered words tiptoed from his lips and swarmed her mind, some filtered down into her subconscious and made themselves at home.
They lay dormant at first, but when they woke up they danced with her deepest fears…
He stole her silence and she would never forgive him for it.