“Let’s do some brainstorming!” said Miss Flannerty. “Today’s topic is Violence.”
Billy and Bobby and Suzie shared words like “punching” and “stabbing” and “capping y’all haters” and “bad”.
“Ah, my mistake,” said Miss Flannerty, pulling some chemicals, syringes, and DVDs out of the closet. “I meant brainwashing.”
It was time to take off the training wheels…
Literally.
Dad tossed the screwdriver up and down. “You’re sure you’re ready for this?” he grunted.
Terrence crossed his arms, frowned, and nodded emphatically.
Later, in the hospital, Terrence held his dad’s hand.
“Be tough,” said Terrence. “They can fix you.”
“Everything sure is great, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, absolutely. I can’t think of a single possible thing that could make my life better.”
“More steak?”
“Nah; I’ve got plenty.”
“More bacon?”
“I already eat it four times a day…”
“More steak wrapped in bacon?”
“…I think you may have something there.”
“Say hello to my little friend,” sneered the dark-haired man.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello,” said his little friend.
“Are you new to town?” I asked.
“Yeah, I moved last week,” she replied. “I like it a lot here, but it’s hard to meet people.”
“Tell me about it!” I said.
The rearview mirror held a terrifying apparition:
An entire herd of rampaging bovine destroyers trailed behind us, rage and hunger dancing in their eyes.
“Don’t stop! Stomp on the gas!” I shouted, but Georgia wordlessly pointed at the fuel gauge.
The cows advanced, and we were all out of grapefruit…
He could lift a truck off the ground with nothing but two fingers and a crane.
He could fly short distances by kicking his legs and holding his breath.
He could breathe through his nose and his mouth at the same time.
He was my best friend, and I hated him.
Two glowing eyes peered at me from the shadows: wolves.
I blinked, and there were four eyes. Then six. Then ten.
Then… Thirteen?
I did a quick recount. Thirteen? That didn’t make sense. Had one lost an eye in a fight?
Ah, it had just been winking. I winked back.
“…humans gained ultraviolet vision, but found that its effect when combined with ordinary sight was disorienting. Hence the initiative to recolour our everyday surroundings to a sufficiently distinct hue….”
Dave hurriedly threw the lever, and the Twenty-First Century reasserted itself around him.
“It’s true, Jimmy! The future really is orange!”
This story won the Mere 50 Words contest, with a $50 prize. Congratulations!
“I’m sorry, sir, we’ll simply have to assign you an entirely new model.”
The Hardware Maintenance Commission representative smiled sympathetically, leafing through his papers.
“I know this procedure can be painful, but unfortunately your current version is no longer the standard.”
I sighed, lifting my son out of his stroller.
This story earned the First Runner Up, with a $25 prize, in the Mere 50 Words contest.
“You find me attractive?” the mermaid asked the derelict sailor.
“Absolutely,” he nodded. “Don’t you agree?”
She frowned. “No merman did.”
It seemed impossible. “Why?” he asked.
“My figure,” she said. “I’m not streamlined.”
“Is that why humans only ever see mermaids with curvaceous figures?”
“We go where we’re appreciated.”
This story earned an Honourable Mention, with a $10 prize, in the Mere 50 Words contest.