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.
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).
The chair creaks under me, weighted by century old bones.
“Congrats! You just amaze me; to think of the things you’ve seen and done!”
I shift through the archives in attempt to place the young girl. She has the family blue eyes and my sweet Harry’s smile. A fanged man dominates her dark shirt.
“Old stories say witches and vampires drink blood to stay young.” Her face contorts uncomfortably as she slinks away, no doubt on her way to tell.
I can’t hide my sneer.
Maybe tonight I’ll run away. Surely it’s not too late to become a vampire.
Word Count: 99 Word/Idea: Growing Older For the flash fiction challenge at Carrot Ranch and inspired by my really saucy grandmother who was born in 1928 and reminds me everytime I see her that shes “too young to be this old”. And Happy Mother’s Day to the areas celebrating it today
Sometimes I forget to breathe. It’s not that I don’t want to. The air is just so heavy now. Like at the end of it all we only had sins left And they’re trying to smother the few of us that remain into non-existence. Of course I survived, heaven nor hell wanted me. I wouldn’t have pushed the button if I’d have known … I’m forgetting again. Today I saw it. Squat pale sandstone in the distance and figures bobbing in and out. The lab notes said they have a way to go back, If they’ll let me in.
Words blurred in and out of Delia’s focus. She slammed the book into her lap and glared towards the younger woman bound by ropes in the backseat.
“See, this is our problem. You never shut up.”
The woman blinked as the statement hit her but the gag prevented her from responding.
“Even now I can just hear you whining.”
The woman stared towards the slouching fabric above her despondently.
“I thought we were friends.” Delia mocked. “You know you can’t have friends in this business.”
The woman sighed.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow I’ll pretend I never knew your name.”
Word Count: 100 For the always fascinating Friday Fictioneers, click the link and blue frog to read more. I realize this is a beach and not a pier that you drop bodies off but you know … artistic liberties.