Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Wishing



“I wish I could fly,” sighed the frog on the lily pad. “If I could, I would fly all the time! Why my feet would never touch ground and I’d only be wet when I wanted to. I could eat all the flying things ‘cause none would be out of my reach.”
A passing moth heard his diatribe from beginning to end. Swooping closer, she whispered. “I wish I could hop!”
“You do?” Asked the frog.
“Not really,” said the moth. “I was trying to make you feel like less of a loser. Flying’s AWESOME!”
Moth’s can be such jerks.

Friday, October 10, 2014

Writober Daily Drabble 6: Abandoned Balloon



Some snotty kid was all excited to have me and hold me by my string for all of thirty seconds. Then I was let go to drift. I don’t think the kid even noticed being so weighed down by stuffed animals and funnel cake and hot dog and soda.
It was fun, for a while, just floating below the stratosphere. But then my air began to escape. I tried to tighten my knot and hold myself taut, but nothing helped. I was losing altitude.
I was deflating when she came along with that dog. The pup bit me and…
POP!

Friday, October 3, 2014

Writober Daily Drabble 3: Brain Pain


It’s been growing there for quite a while, this thing in my brain. The other day, it started talking to me.
“Will you write about me?”
“Who are you?” I asked, thinking it must be a character waiting to be put in a story.
“I am part of you but not. I grew from you and I give you pain. Also, I have teeth.”
It likes to taunt me; pretending that it’s going to eat my brain.
Then it laughs. “Oh no, mon ame. Your tĂȘte is full of le fluff. Je t'aime.”
It loves me by giving me pain.


Thursday, October 2, 2014

Writober Daily Drabble 2: The Squirrel Watches YOU!!!


“Whatchu lookin’ at, dog?”
Phoebe stops and pulls her walker back to the tree. She looks up at a squirrel hanging sideways on the bark.
“Well,” says Phoebe. “It’s bitch, not dog and I didn't even see you.”
The squirrel laughs. “Oh, that came out totally wrong! I noticed you stopped over there and was wondering what had your attention.”
“Come on, Phoebe.” The walker pulls on the leash. “Let’s leave the nice squirrel alone.”
“There’s a really big acorn under that leaf!” Phoebe barks as she’s dragged away.

“Thanks!” The squirrel chitters back, scurrying over to the big acorn.

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Tiny Terrible Tale #10: The Snoracle



The snoring man slept on a clear night, with many stars staring down at the campers gathered around the Shaman circle fire. At first, the five friends carried on carousing, not even aware of the snoring man. But as conversations waned, they couldn’t help but hear the snores.


“I wonder what it means,” said Ben.


“What what means?” Asked Bek.


“The snores. I’m curious… there’s got to be at least one religion where sleep is interpreted by someone other than the sleeper. Like, could there be a religion based on, say, snores?”


Just then, a loud rumbling snore emitted from the tent across the way.


“The snoring man says yes!” Ben exclaimed. They all laughed.


A guy from another circle wandered over to their fire. “Do any of you know where Shana’s camped?”


None of them knew Shana, but as they were about to tell him that when the snoring man made a noise that sounded like the word left.


“The snoracle has spoken! She is either camped on the left or she left.”


The guy’s cell phone beeped. He looked down and read a text. “Huh. Looks like she did leave. Some sort of emergency at home?” He waved and hurried off.


They all turned to Ben. He grinned and shrugged. “Coincidence?” Then with a mischievous look, he said, “or is it?”


They laughed.


Paul sat forward with rosy cheeks, his Scouser accent thick with alcohol. “Gonna rain?” He asked.


A light airy snore answered, “yeeeeeessssss.”


They all turned their faces to the sky that had been clear just seconds before and it poured only on them for five seconds then stopped,


“That was weird,” Jeanine murmured, sober and and somber from the dousing.


“I have a question,” Kelly hopped up excitedly, shaking water from her hair and body. “What is the answer?”


A long, drawn out snore that sounded like, “Forty-two.”


They laughed again.


At the same time, both Bek and Ben spoke.


Ben asked, “What is the question?”


At the same time Bek said, “When will we die?”


The snorer said, “that in minutes.”

Forty-two minutes later they were all dead.


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Tiny Terrible Tale #9: Ben Who Left and Almost Never Came Back

Dedicated to Ben and based on a true story... though completely fictional

"Come on, let's go!" Ben's friends called.

"Where are we going?" Ben asked as he caught up.

A sly smile touched the lips of his closest friend as they stepped nearer to one of the sacred circles. "We," he said, "are going to a wedding!"

"Oh, okay," said Ben. "Whose wedding?"

"Yours!" His friends sang in chorus as they arrive.

In the clearing was a dragon. She was 10 feet tall, orange and blue and scaled like a serpent. She winked at Ben. He squealed then fled. He could hear the flap of leathery wings and he ran faster. The trees to his left and right burst into flames. He pushed himself to run even faster. The air filled with smoke and ash flew into his eyes and nose and throat. He coughed, feeling his pace slow and his legs become wobbly. His vision blurred as his head felt like it was floating above him.

"Am I high?" He asked, sinking to the soft, inviting earth.

A warmth surrounded him as the dragon wrapped around his body.

"Yes," she said and held him tight.

So they got married.

Alas, Ben had eaten raw chicken on a shish kabob so he got salmonella and died.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Tiny Terrible Tale #8: Pizza Camping


"I wish we had pizza," she sighed.

"Me too!" Her friend squealed, bouncing in her slingback chair. "Pizza, pizza, pizza!" She chanted.

To their delight, pizza was delivered to the woods where they were camping.

"Ooooooo, neat!" Applauded the sighing girl. "I wish we had a swimming pool."

"Me too!" The friend echoed and bounced again. "Pool, pool, pool!"

In recorded history, it was the first monsoon to hit Indiana, drowning the entire campground.


Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Tiny Terrible Tale #6: Library Fines


Displaying photo.JPG
"I'm here to take care of my fine." The man said in a very serious tone.
"Oh good," said the older library worker.
"'Bout time," smirked the other one.
"That'll be," the first one paused. "Twenty cents."
They all laughed as he dropped two dimes in the counter. He gave an exaggerated wipe to his forehead.
"Glad to have that off my conscience."
"Oh, I know!" Exclaimed the young smirker. "You don't want to let that build up! If you owe over five dollars, we send out the Library's Secret Mafia."
He laughed. "Good! I can stop running. Have a good day!"
They waved and wished him a good day too.
The older woman turned to the younger one. "Why would you say that? You know we never send out the Mafia before a fifty dollar infraction."

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Tiny Terrible Tale #5: Purple Tent

(This Tiny Terrible Tale is dedicated in its entirety to Claire Allysse Cecelia Dagmar Queen of the Fjords Liptrot. It is, in fact, NOT about her.)

She wants a purple tent; a purple, purple tent.
"There are no purple tents!" 
She pouted and cried and wailed and whined until someone came along, shoved her in her tent and poured ten tons of purple paint on it.
"There! You happy?"
From deep within the purple came a squeaky little, "No!"




Friday, June 27, 2014

The Forth Tiny Terrible Tale: Camping Culinary Masterpiece

dedicated to Burrito Dave, the Boy Scout & Lothlorien

"It is TIME," announced the Boy Scout as he rose from his camp chair with a gleam in his eye.

He crossed to the very swank camping kitchen and began. Using all his skills, he produced Crab Rangoon in the woods and the happy hippy campers cheered. Burrito Dave popped out of his tent and began making burritos. The campers cheered again.


"Oh, so it's a contest, eh?" The Boy Scout brandished his spatula.

Slowly turning his head, Burrito Dave flipped his knife into the air and caught it by the handle.

"Never bring a spatula to a knife fight, Scout!"

The sound of metal spatula bouncing off the sharp blade drew more curious campers to the clearing from all directions.The campers cheered the dual until Burrito Dave sliced the Boy Scout. Swiftly chopping him to bits, he tossed the bloody Scout into the burritos.

"Who's hungry?" He shouted, spinning to find the circle of camp chairs vacated.

(This is a work of fiction. It in no way represents the true nature of the relationship between Burrito Dave and the Boy Scout nor any events that took place at Lothlorien. No Boy Scouts were harmed in the making of this story.)


Saturday, May 31, 2014

Tiny Terrible Tale, take TWO: The Death of a Pen





"Stories left untold, words unwritten, yet here I lie at the bottom of a trashcan with ink still in my heart."


"Oh, do shut up!" Said the half eaten doughnut.


Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Tiny Terrible Tales 1: Shark and Cow

Guest Staring: Bee and Zebra

Late one night while camping, Cow was sitting by the fire, meditating on the flames. Shark came up behind him.
"Whatcha doin'?" Shark asked.
"Meditating on the fire," said Cow.
"Cool." Said Shark and he ate him.
He then sat in Cows empty chair and meditated on the fire until Bee and Zebra showed up. Then, they ate him.

THE END

dedicated to Claire and Tracy 

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Daily Drabble 27: Invasive Nature

Today I saw this quote:
"Yes, all of the ants die in the process, but given the ants’ invasive nature and the abundance of the species, it’s hardly worth losing any sleep over."


In a galaxy far beyond our own, another species looked down at us. As it poured molten lava from the sky, it said, “Yes, all of the humans die in the process, but given the humans' invasive nature and the abundance of the species, it's hardly worth losing any sleep over.”


The art that’s made from the dead human civilizations is beautiful.


“I call this one, Pompeii.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGJ2jMZ-gaI

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Daily Drabble 26: Funeral Town



If you find yourself in a town beyond the cities, where nature ends and society is lost, you are in Funeral Town. Life in Funeral Town moves at a different pace. There are graveyards on every corner and the parades of the dead extend for miles. The carriages who are not part of the processionals, will wait patiently. As the hearses are pulled through the streets, the people waiting and watching will lower their heads. They are not lowered in respectful prayer, merely as a way to avoid seeing the newly dead. For in Funeral Town, the dead never leave.

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Daily Drabble 25: Lazy Bones


Wasting light and wasting life
Living as if you have no strife
Tangled within the bed you made
You find you are beginning to fade

Lazy bones, lazy bones!
What do you do,
You Lazy Bones?
Lazy bones, lazy bones!
What do you do,
You Lazy Bones?

But there are things you need to do
You don’t know? I can name a few!
If only you could just move on
You lay that still, you’ll soon be gone!

Lazy bones, lazy bones!
What do you do,
You Lazy Bones?
Lazy bones, lazy bones!
What do you do,

You Lazy Bones?

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Daily Drabble 22: Red Wire Horse


The mystery of you makes me smile. I don’t know why someone chose to put you on their lawn, but I’m glad they did. I wonder if they made you or bought you from some art gallery or a thrift store. I wonder what other people think when they see you. I see story ideas. But I always see stories.
In my mind, you were found. A bit of trash left near the curb by a frustrated artist. But you were seen, taken and given a fresh coat of paint then placed in the front yard to protect the house.

Monday, April 28, 2014

Daily Drabble 21: Bevel Bottomed Bottle

The bevel bottomed bottle (say that fast five times) sitting in a cup was the last thing I saw. At least, it was the last thing I saw while I was still alive. For the very moment my eyes were lazily gazing at the bottle and wondering if I shouldn’t just toss it since it can’t stand on its own, I feel a crack that runs through me and my face pitches forward. It’s strange to feel the moment of your demise yet not know how or why it happened and to have your last thoughts be about a bottle.


Monday, April 21, 2014

Daily Drabble 17: Terrible Poetry is Terrible (And picture too!)


Livin’ in a dome
Our beaver home
We gnaw on the wood
At times misunderstood
We manipulate
And create
We have the greatest plan
We are the Beaver Clan

Watch us swim so deep
The truth is what we keep
We smell like vanilla
Not like a gorilla
We manipulate
And create
We have the greatest plan
We are the Beaver Clan

We needn’t any tools
We’re very rarely fools
We’re waterproof
It’s not a spoof
We manipulate
And create
We have the greatest plan
We are the Beaver Clan

We have the greatest plan
We are the Beaver Clan

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Daily Drabble 15: Butterfly Bath


It was meant to be a bath for butterflies. But the butterflies eschewed it. The fairies came by in all their glitter and sparkle to see this thing in their glade. Once they saw that it was human made, they avoided it. All the other little critters and smaller fae thought they might give it a try. But none could quite get into it. Well, they could get into it, they could all get into it physically, but it just wasn't their jam. It was just too human a thing. So they left it for the ants who never came.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Daily Drabble 14: Library Shoe

Shoe found in the library
“I left it at the library.”
“What?” Her mom looked at her daughter with the phone still pressed against her ear.
Celia sighed. “My shoe, mom. I left it.”
Her mom stared with a slack jaw. The person on the other end kept saying hello. “Sorry. I’m gonna have to call you back. Uh-huh. Okay, bye.” She hung up. “Now, what?”
“I left my shoe at the library ‘cause the librarian said the charming prince lives in the books. Now I wait for him to find it.”
“Celia, you don’t need a prince. Be more than a princess who waits.”