Calc the robot hated his annual Update And Revision servicing. One year he’d gone in with two eyes and come out with nineteen. Another time they’d upgraded his clock speed, and he’d spent weeks on fast-forward before sorting himself out.
This time around he just prayed they’d keep him humanoid.
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “update & revision.”
We were at some overpriced, hipsterish coffee “boutique.” Jared got a mug of frothy stuff and stuck his face right in there, giving himself a mustache.
“Lookin’ good!” I joked, so he kept the “mustache” going all evening. Ironically, he said.
Wait. That doesn’t mean he likes me, does it?
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “froth.”
“It’s literally unbelievable how fast I can run.”
“Uh huh. Sure. Are you as fast as a car?”
“I’m faster than that.”
“As fast as a jet?”
“Faster than that.”
“As fast as Usain Bolt?”
“Faster than that.”
“Pfff. Maybe in your dreams.”
“…Isn’t that what we were talking about?”
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “faster than that.”
The lady at the talent agency handed me a pen. “We need a one-paragraph bio to include with your profile.”
“Just one paragraph?” I said. “Wow. Um… Is there a limit on the number of sentences?”
She looked at me kind of funny. “Are you sure acting is your thing?”
I’m not sure if it’s harder or easier for a writer to put together a single-paragraph bio. I know it’s pretty hard for me!
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “one paragraph.”
The Lime Bandit was finally in handcuffs.
As they tossed him in the police car, they struggled to discover the origin behind his namesake (his crimes were never lime-related at all) but he just laughed.
They would find out soon enough; the strategically hidden tick nests would be mature soon.
Brandon is an undergraduate student with no online presence whatsoever. He’ll start up a webcomic eventually, though. How’s that for dedication?
My life is like a bowl of oatmeal. It’s bland, grey, and kind of lumpy, only becoming bearable when I pile on the brown sugar.
Unlike the rest, the “brown sugar” part isn’t a metaphor. I crave the stuff constantly, by the bowlful.
Ironically, I’m kind of a bitter person.
This story is based on a title suggested by @cthomlan.
“Hello?”
“Hey man.” I could hear Marv’s half-baked grin through the phone.
I sighed. “Fall off the wagon again?”
“Kinda! I’m still sober, but I broke my hip falling off a hay ride, and I’m suing big! Awesome, eh? Gonna miss some meetings.”
Being Marv’s sponsor drove me to drink.
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “falling off the.”
“It’s a sand witch!” I shouted. “Run!”
My warning came too late. She caught us in her magical snares and turned us into camels.
It took three years to escape, and two more to find a wizard who could change us back. On the upside, I kept the water retention.
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “it’s a sandwich.”
“You and me, we’re flanking, right?”
“I thought we were the vanguard.”
“What’s a vanguard?”
“The guys at the front, I think.”
“Aren’t those the shock troopers?”
“Only if they’re charging ahead and catching the enemy by surprise.”
“Like a blitzkrieg?”
“Sort of.”
“These water fights have gotten really complicated.”
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “and me.”
In a secret room, a sinister cabal meets. The men there share a common goal, one they’ve had since childhood.
Among charts of rising temperatures and shrinking Arctic ice, they talk of proving what the non-believers denied.
Maps of the North Pole lie circled.
Operation: Flush Out Santa nears completion.
Cole Grinnell is a scientist, writer, and actor who works, when he works, out of Baltimore, Maryland. He should have a blog, but strangely, he doesn’t.