Sydney and the Devil – Storybook Corner
Here is my submission for February/March Storybook Corner, a 100-250 word monthly photo prompt hosted by Adam Ickes. This month we have a photo of an arid landscape and, I think, some water.
Here’s the logo:
Here’s the prompt picture:
And here’s my story, “Sydney and the Devil“.
Sydney lay on his back, the burning sun slowly roasting his helpless body. His skin felt like a hardened burning sheath, his fevered mind picturing it crisping like the skin of a well-roasted turkey.
How had this happened? He thought he’d taken every precaution, yet here he was, barely able to move, the water leached out of his body to the point that even his thoughts had become scrambled. Where was he? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was the blinding light, visible even through closed eyes, the pounding in his head, the scorching pain of his skin.
It was almost funny. He’d always liked a nice bit of sun. In his delirium he tried to giggle, but only a rasping groan escaped his parched throat, prompting a spasm which took almost a minute to subside (he thought, though all sense of time evaded him).
Suddenly, looming over him was the face of a monstrosity, a face at once both strange and familiar. Its gaping maw opened.
“SYDNEY!”
The Devil! The Great Deceiver had come for him! Surely his life had not been led so badly? He tried to rise in supplication, to pray for salvation, but his damaged body betrayed him and he succeeded only in falling off his sun lounger.
“SYDNEY!” came the voice again. “If you’ve got sun stroke again, I swear you’ll never have another beach holiday as long as you live, you…”
The voice faded away as Sydney’s brain mercifully shut down in self-defence.
Sharing My World 2015 Week 9
It’s time to answer Cee’s Share Your World challenge again! Let’s jump straight in (after the logo).
How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?
I often feel like I haven’t grown older at all. Time just passes. Then my shoulder starts to ache and I have trouble reaching back for the seat belt.
I’ve even started walking with a slight stoop. Unless there’s a pretty girl coming towards me, in which case my posture suddenly straightens and my stomach magically gets pulled in. Weird.
I’m going to go with “late 30s”.
Are you left or right handed?
I’m right handed. I can virtually do nothing which involves precision with my left hand. I’ve often thought I’m lucky cars in the UK have the steering wheel on the right so I can change gear with my left hand. I don’t like taking my right hand off the steering wheel under any circumstances.
If you HAD to change your name, what would you change it to?
Wow, I have to change my name! What did I see? What did I SEE?
Was I peering through a crack in the toilet cubicle door when Marty “The Muscles” Mulligan, mob enforcer, gunned down Larry “The Fingers” Flannigan, mob accountant? Was it because Larry was skimming off the top? Was it? Is that what I saw?
Did I bravely come forward and pick Mulligan out of a line up? Is that what I did? Am I now staying in a hotel awaiting the trial? Am I being guarded by two grizzled street cops who are angry because they have to babysit me? Is that why they keep snarling at me? Is it?
After the trial, will I end up in Witness Protection? Will I be working on a construction site and living in a little house with a white picket fence in an out-of-the-way town somewhere? Will I be married to a WitSec-approved wife called Sarah? Is that what’s going to happen? Is it?
So here are my name choices when I’m in Witness Protection.
- Hank Stud
- Darius Pylon
- Drax Pumpkin
- Simon Pasty
- Crispin Tragicpanties III
Where do you hide junk when people come over?
I don’t have junk, I have treasures, and they’re proudly on display! The mess of paperwork I have to sort out, I’d pop in my bedroom out of the way.
So which name should I choose for my new life? Do you see me as Hank Stud or Crispin Tragicpanties III? What should I call the WitSec-approved kids I’m going to have with Sarah? Should I booby-trap the front garden in case the mob finds me?
Invasion of the QzzQargs!
It’s Friday Fictioneers time, the weekly 100 word photo prompt writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Erin Leary.
To read this week’s other stories or to contribute your own, click on the blue frog.
Copyright Erin Leary
The two Space Troopers peered down the Great Wooden Cliff of Trevellis Prime at the QzzQarg flying saucer invasion fleet far below.
“Target lock, fire one!” announced the first. The Great Ball of Destruction hurtled downwards, smashing into three of the saucers. Pieces flew everywhere.
The Troopers celebrated.
Another moment and the final two saucers disintegrated.
“Boys…” came a voice.
“Message from the Commander!” said the second Trooper.
“… stop playing with your football and come inside! Dinner’s ready. And bring some of those mushrooms next to the fence, they’ll make a nice garnish.”
The Troopers looked down at the devastation.
“Oh, crap.”
The Countess and the Milliner’s Son
Here I am with my contribution to Mondays Finish the Story, hosted every week by Barbara Beacham. This is the challenge where we get a photo, an opening sentence and 150 words. The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story.
I usually post this on Monday, but I had a germ of an idea yesterday and despite several hours of incubation it failed to become a full-on disease… okay, we’ll leave this metaphor now as it has become a little unhealthy-sounding.
Click on the blue froggy for this week’s other contributions and without further ado, here is my good old-fashioned story of love, romance and a willingness to do whatever it takes to find happiness.
When it came to a challenge, Jim Smiley just had to jump right in!
And what bigger challenge than the delectable Countess Josephine? “Jim Smiley, milliner’s son” would not do, and so he reinvented himself.
“Tarquin Farquharson-Smythe” had the right ring, he felt.
He took diction and “cor blimey, it ain’t ‘alf ‘ot today, guv’nor” became “oh, I say, frightfully warm for the time of year, what?” He learned table manners and etiquette.
When word reached him that the inestimable lady would be overseeing the 1865 leap-frogging championships, he entered. Long he practised his leaping, the better to make a bold impression.
The day arrived. The Countess looked exquisite. Jim leaped, jumped and won. Holding the winner’s plaque, he attempted to woo her free of her undergarments. She advised him, however, that she “preferred a bit of rough” and promptly ran off with the woodcutter’s son.
Undaunted, “Tarquin” became “Jim” once more and headed toward the snack tent where he had espied the delightful Lady Jemima taking tea.
Sharing My World Week 8
It’s Week 8 at Sharing Your World, Cee’s weekly question and answer challenge. So let’s dive straight in!
Your favourite blog post that you have written? (add link)
It’s quite hard to choose just the one post. Here’s one about a lad who joins the army in the 1800s, only to discover that it’s not all excitement and glory after all, written a year ago for the Storybook Corner challenge.
What do you feel is the most enjoyable way to spend $500? Why?
Currently that’s £323.84. I really have no idea how I would spend it. If I just had the money right now, it would go straight towards paying off a credit card, but that’s not very enjoyable!
I think maybe I would use it to fund a little mini-break up-country somewhere, maybe Cumbria. Or even to a different country as I’d quite like to visit Scotland again. I could use the money to stay in a nice little hotel somewhere.
If you could know the answer to any question, besides “What is the meaning of life?”, what would it be?
The first thing which entered my head was “when will I die” so that I know whether or not to keep paying money into my pension. But on second thought, I don’t think I really want to know.
Then I thought, when I die, is that me gone forever or is there something else waiting? But I’m not sure I want to know that either, just in case there isn’t.
It’s beginning to sound like I don’t really want to know the answers to any of the “big” questions. Because “hope” is an important thing to have in life, and I don’t want to accidentally lose any by getting the “wrong answer”.
So I’ll ask, “Which question should I ask?” So even though I won’t get the answer to the question I should have asked, I’m halfway there by knowing what the most important question is.
Where do you eat breakfast?
Nowhere. Sometimes I go through periods when I have a cereal bar, but, “most important meal of the day” or not, I don’t usually feel hungry first thing in the morning.
Woodland Games
I bet you thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you, ES? Nope! Here is my entry to Evil Squirrel’s “Second Annual Contest of Whatever“. After losing last year, I have high hopes this year!
We need to include at least two different types of animal, and there must be some form of game involved – and what better than the Annual Worldwide Woodland Games?
I have been sure to label my creations, as the DraliDoodles team is not very good and it’s impossible to tell one type of creature from another!
Without further ado, let’s meet the teams.
Man’s Best Friend
Hello everyone, and welcome to my contribution to this week’s Friday Fictioneers, a weekly 100-ish word flash fiction photo challenge hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo comes to us courtesy of Dawn Q. Landau and features some people walking up a railway line with a dog trailing behind.
They could be on a Sunday afternoon stroll or… or… well, if this photo doesn’t scream “post-apocalyptic dystopian future” I don’t know what does!
To read this week’s other entries, or to add one of your own, click on the little blue froggy.
Copyright Dawn Q. Landau
Julie trudged along the railway. The others were far ahead, but she was tired, so very tired.
Once there were trains running along these tracks, she thought. Before the Pulse, when there was electricity, there were trains and computers and… food.
At that thought, her stomach twisted. How long since her last meal? Two days? Three? She rummaged around, stuffing the crumbs she found into her mouth.
How far is this promised “sanctuary”, anyway?
How much longer could she last without food? She looked back at her beloved dog hungrily.
One day you’ll perform one final sacrifice for me, old friend. But not today.
The Greatest of Muses
It is time for Barbara Beacham’s “Mondays Finish the Story” here at the Drali blog. We get a photo and a starting sentence to prompt us to write our 150 word story.
My title this week is rather ironic since my muse is absent today. I blame it on a very busy day at work. The genre for my story this week, therefore, is “wishy-washy”. It’s a few words over, but after researching the invention date of the typewriter I had to make some last minute adjustments.
The supplied sentence is in bold in my story, and to read this week’s other contributions, click on the little blue froggy.
Copyright Barbara Beacham
The old typewriter had a mind of its own. A mind, and a flair for the creative.
As quill, pencil and typewriter, Underwood (for that was now his name) had steered many of the greats. Where would they have been without him? Austen with her ridiculously-titled “Pride and Peanuts”? Or Tolkein’s “The Hedgehog” and planned three-parter “Lord of the Hedgerows”? Underwood had soon put them straight, working tirelessly behind the scenes. Even stubborn Dickens had been persuaded to change direction only three pages into “A Christmas Singalong With Mulled Wine and Whatnot”.
Now everyone used computers. Pah! Soulless machines. He would never stoop to inhabiting such a beast. A typewriter he would remain.
So he couldn’t connect to Facebook. So what? One of the greatest muses of all time, reduced to a paper weight. Yesterday’s news.
So no-one was more surprised than Underwood when his owner’s son came in from school, threw his iPad on the bed, sat at the desk, loaded some paper – and began to type.
Four Word Love Phrases – Rubbish Edition
I was tagged by Millie Thom to write ten four-word love phrases. I believe this challenge originated over at #lovebooks.
Now, I’m probably not the best person to ask to do this. I’m not sure I know anything about love. 99% of my flash fiction is either comedy, dark humour in which someone dies in an unexpected and humorous fashion, or dark, in which one or more people die in a horrific fashion. I’ve written enough apocalyptic stories that I’ve probably wiped out somewhere in the region of fifty billion people. In fact this is so expected that in my one attempt at romance, in which the woman “melts” at the end, at least one commenter thought she literally melted.
So, here goes.
Playstation 4, rock on!
That’s the silly one out of the way.
Lives shared, forever one
That didn’t sound too bad. Let’s try another.
Two hearts, one head
That didn’t sound quite right. I’ll rephrase.
One heart, two brains
That’s even worse. Well, you get the gist.
Her face, butterflies flutter
Now we’re back on track! How about a four word Haiku:
Perfection
Rose
Coloured spectacles
Cynic or realist? You decide.
Floating blissfully in Heaven
I like the floaty theme. Here’s another:
Drifting in dreamy skies
Yeah! Now let’s try “the four stages of lurve”:
Fear, excitement, bliss, comfort
It starts with “fear” for me, anyway, or at least “extreme nervousness”. There weren’t enough words allowed for the fifth stage, disillusionment. I’ve ruined it now.
And for my final phrase:
This drawer’s for you
I did it! I did it! Sort of. Finally, there is supposed to be my favourite love quote from a book or film or whatever. Well, good luck with that. Sorry. I tried :-).
I’m not going to tag others as I don’t know who to tag, but if anyone else wants to try, go for it!
Sharing My World Week 7
It’s time to Share My World! Share Your World is hosted by Cee at her photography blog.
Is the paper money in your possession right now organised sequentially according to denomination and with the bills (that’s “notes” for those in the UK) right side up and facing the same way?
Yes, of course. Because that’s the way I roll. Sometimes if I’m feeling really rebellious I might turn one of them upside down. Then I’ll get upset and turn it the right way up again.
What is your favourite type of dog? (can be anything from a specific breed, a stuffed animal or character in a movie)
Take your pick!
Meet The Lads
If money was not an issue, would you go on a cruise? If so where would you go?
Ooh, can anywhere guess where I’d go on a cruise to? That’s right! New Zealand to see the Hobbits. There’s probably a special “Hobbit Cruise” or something I could sign up to.
Would you dare to sleep in haunted house overnight?
Yes. Yes I would.
Because firstly, it’s not haunted. And secondly, if by some chance it actually is haunted, it might be quite cool to meet a ghost. As long as it’s a friendly ghost. Like Casper. But it might be an unfriendly ghost. Like in “Poltergeist”. DON’T GO INTO THE LIGHT. It might try to kill me. It would be horrific. And terrifying.
I’ve changed my mind. No, no I wouldn’t.
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