Martin surveyed the grotesque display in front of him. He didn’t want to risk angering his captor, “It’s an interesting chair.”
“Chair? Marty, my boy, look again. This is a throne.”
The man in full tuxedo and a plastic raincoat strutted around with a slight giggle on the tip of his tongue. “Do you know how many hands this took?”
“I …” Martin’s voice trembled.
His captor caressed Martin’s long fingers. “I’ve always admired yours. They’re the perfect centerpiece. The essential finishing touch, if you will.” His hacksaw rested on Martin’s wrist. “Shall we begin?”
Word Count: 99 For the 99 word challenge at Carrot Ranch. Fact: This was inspired by Amelia Bedelia
Verdant – RDP word of the day Music – Dirty Three – Self titled
Luscious. Fertile. Sasha’s garden was everything Mari could never inspire in her own. Her belly too, round with verdant life in a way Mari would never know.
Obsession. Jealousy. Rage in Mari’s veins blossomed as she feigned excitement for Sasha’s burgeoning life. Sasha’s roses brought home awards. Her daffodils sailed into a spotlight all their own. The baby kicked while she laughed on.
Inspired. Alone. Mari took to a rusted axe in order to get the job done.
I forgot to time myself but I intended to aim for 5 minutes to start. This probably took about that long.
“I’ve read every last one.” “That one?” Shari nodded to the oldest book in the pile. “My favorite, it has every spell possible, even one to bring back the dead.” “Wow.” Shari knew the guy was a fruit loop. “I should get going.” “So soon? But I’ve been waiting for you for eons.”
She awoke one fine cupcake morning, Blue skies and nary a cloud in sight. Village windows remained shuttered, Terrific beasts tethered to the night. It was a fine day indeed. She had the invitations, Colloquial and drawn in invisible ink. Balloons of her favorite shades, Faded blues and washed out grays, Floated about the room; Specters all their own. Nine thirty and a quarter past second five. She clasped her hands, Breathing anticipation, When only a strangers shadow Fell upon the door. “Am I late?” An echo from empty marble halls. “I do love parties after all.” She tugged at cotton candy curls And a dress of a more bland sort. “Of course, of course. Just lay your grievances down here. After all, isn’t that what pity parties are for?”
Between how overwhelmed I’ve been pretty much all year at this point and a looming sense of becoming stuck in the status quo I’ve honestly felt like shit lately. I feel stuck, unimportant, unmotivated, uninspired and so very much like a total failure. I get to points where I wonder if every decision I’ve ever made has been the wrong one. Since I found myself having a pity party … Here we are
Dan surveyed the film scattered before him. “There has to be something I’m missing.” Bodies, splayed open and surrounded by a hodgepodge of mystical ingredients, stared back at him. He really thought a handful of cinnamon would be the key. “Hey Siri, how do you reanimate a corpse?”
278 characters – 48 words For Twittering Tales And yes, I asked Siri how to reanimate a corpse (to my disappointment she did not deliver anything funny).