All posts by Tim

NEWS: Pirate Week Audience Choice Award

Did you think the awesome collection of prizes for Pirate Week was big? Well it’s about to expand again!

In addition to giving out prizes to one winner and two runners up, I’ll be making a selection of stories available on Friday for Audience Choice voting. Whoever wins the Audience Choice Award will be given a very special prize: they will have input into the next Captain Blackbird pirate adventure short story I write!

I hope everyone’s looking forward to reading all the great stories that are going to be posted this week. I’ll be posting about six stories each day, so check back throughout the day if you won’t want to miss anything.

Also, since I received so many entries I won’t be posting any stories that I wrote myself this week. I have enough work to do scheduling them all and doing the judging! :)

The Waffler Conspiracy

“I don’t know…”

I gritted my teeth. “Make up your mind! I can’t stand your waffling.”

“Both options look good!” she protested. “I hate being forced to choose…”

“Here,” I said, “I’ll choose for you.” I flung a waffle onto her plate.

“But,” she said, “maybe I want a pancake…”


This story is based on a title suggested by @PoshPlatypus.

Your News at Nine

“In today’s headlines,” said the news anchor on TV, “civil unrest rages on throughout the Middle East. Also, Hugh and Bob Mungus need to stop playing so much XBox and do their homework.”

“Huh?” said Hugh and Bob.

Mom grinned. She hadn’t told her sons about her new boyfriend yet.


This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt, “in today’s headlines.”

Sick of Being Single

“I’m sick of being single.”

“Yeah, me too. It’s totally lame. It’s hard to do anything about it though, you know?”

“Well, this is kind of counter-intuitive, but apparently if we don’t want to be single anymore, we have to split.”

“Worth a try. Anything’s better than staying single-celled forever.”

Cedar Dust and Sore Shoulders

She heard the saw cease its whirring.

Her love stomped in, dewdrops of sweat lining his creased forehead, clutching a crude cedar carving of a heart.

He had suffered so much, and still laboured under the weight of the memories, but today, it seemed, his stomps fell a little lighter.


Happy Valentine’s Day!

This story is based on a title suggested by @PoshPlatypus.

Faulty Trigger

*click*

Oh no.

*click click*

It’s jammed! This is bad. REALLY BAD.

*click click click click*

What am I going to do?! Any second now he’s going to turn around and see me, and then…

*click click BANG*

Phew!

I thought I might get blamed for breaking his nail gun.


This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “faulty trigger”.

That Which Amounts to Nothing

First their eyes danced, glancing and winking. Then their feet danced, carrying them in intersecting paths. Next came the dance of voices: introductions, banter, flirtation.

He anticipated the dance of lips: she replied with the dance of the open palm.

Nursing wounded pride and cheek, he retreated, his rhythm lost.


This story was based on a title suggested by @Wolfgang_Cloud.