“Scotty has a new venture.” Dad peered over his paper, clearly reliving nightmares of Scotty’s entrepreneurial spirit.
“Is it … What is it?”
I was five when Scotty roped me into a lemonade business. It may have worked but he got the sugar mixed up with salt. His grilled cheese emporium went under after a rare virus ravaged most of his customers. Only the neighbors two dogs escaped but I’ve never been convinced they ate the discarded sandwiches. His t-shirt business never took off. We have t-shirts for days stashed in the garage.
All of this flashed through dad’s mind, I could read it on his face.
“Honey, should we continue supporting these things? He’s insanely smart, he’s going to go far but …” Mom held her hand up silencing the criticism.
“Do you want to kill his spirit?”
As his snot nosed kid sister, I would call that an ok idea.
Dad sighed and set his paper to the side. “Fine. Let’s go see.”
Scotty stood proudly in the street, a tugboat with fresh blue letters bleeding down the side sat behind him.
“Son, you’ve never been on a boat. We don’t live anywhere near water.”
“Why is it so big?” “It’s a tribute to our robot overlords.” Dan adjusted the stainless steel colander on his head. A walkie talkie clipped to his buckle emitted a stream of white noise. “Well it is impressive in size.” Leslie marked the boxes along her checklist. “That’s what she said.” “Oh, oh please don’t.” “No, that is what she said.” Dan pointed to clouds dotting the horizon. For a split second Leslie could see a glint of something more than vapor in the sky. The white noise shrieked, spewed unintelligible words then fell silent. “They’re happy with my tribute.”
Word Count: 100 For Friday Fictioneers, to read more about the prompt and other stories click the link
“Oh shit.” Mark disappeared below the railing. “What?” Emmy strained to see beyond the trees. “No, it’s Mrs. Smith!” Mark leaned between the columns. “She has her tongue down the pool boys throat again.” Emmy handed the camera up to him. “We’re here to get evidence after all.”
48 words – 276 characters For Twittering Tales Click the link for rules and to read more
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.