The Great Escape
It’s Mondays Finish the Story time here on draliman’s blog. This is hosted by Barbara Beacham in which we get a photo and a starting sentence and have to write a 100-150 word story (not counting the starting sentence).
Click on the little blue froggy to see all this week’s contributions. The supplied starting sentence is in bold in my story. It’s a little bit o’ dialogue this week.
They finally made their escape. Unfortunately, they were now stuck in a ditch.
“Moron!” yelled Teddy.
“Idiot!” yelled Brian.
They sat in silence for a moment.
“What now?” asked Teddy. “They’ll catch us for sure.”
“Try it again,” said Brian.
Teddy pushed the pedal. The wheels spun. The truck didn’t move.
“We’re dead,” moaned Brian. “They’ll catch us, then they’ll kill us.”
“Or they’ll lock us away forever,” added Teddy.
They stared at each other.
“Maybe if you got out and pushed?”
“You get out and push!” yelled Brian.
More silence.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Teddy finally.
“Too late,” said Brian, looking behind them.
Racing up the road came Mr Jenkins in his tracksuit. Much further back was Mr Hawkins, huffing and puffing and clutching his chest.
“Idiot children!” yelled Mr Jenkins. “You could’ve been killed! We’re calling your parents, then it’s detention FOR LIFE!”
“Said so,” mumbled Teddy sadly. “Locked up forever.”
Lost Friends
It’s Friday Fictioneers time hosted by Rochelle, and the photo this week was contributed by Jan Wayne Fields. We need to write a 100-ish word story based on this photo.
I’ve pretty much written nothing but comedies for my challenges recently, but this photo made me feel a bit gloomy for some reason. I nearly renamed this “There in Spirit”. But that sounded a bit corny :-).
Click on the blue guy to read this week’s other stories, or even contribute your own!
Jared stared out of the window. The table behind him was set for four as it always was on this day, a memorial to the four friends who had sat here together every year to celebrate life.
Inseparable since childhood, three years ago death had intervened. A New Year’s party, several drinks too many, a car, a corner, a tree.
Jared’s heart felt heavy as he thought of the three companions he would never again share good times with, help through the bad times.
The door opened and the three friends sombrely entered. Jared took a last look and faded back into their memories.
Close Call
It’s time for Mondays Finish the Story, a weekly challenge hosted by Barbara Beacham in which we get both a photograph and an opening sentence.
The goal is to finish the story in 100-150 words not including the opening sentence, which is fortunate as the opening sentence is quite long this week!
Click on the little blue guy to see the other stories for this week. The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story.
Racing down into the atmosphere, the unidentified object crashed, leaving behind one heck of a huge crater and a plume of smoke that could be seen from miles around.
Jake and Betty stared in astonishment – at the sky, having been blown off their feet by the blast. Jake reached for his phone.
The police arrived, then the onlookers and finally General Herbert, accompanied by a single tank, his entire arsenal.
A small grey-green figure emerged from the crater, waving all six of his arms enthusiastically. He held up a satchel of some sort.
“Invasion!” yelled Herbert. “Open fire!”
The little figure exploded in a shower of alien guts, sheaves of paper flying from his satchel. Herbert retrieved one.
InterGalactic Pizza™ now operating on your planet. Call today!
“No!” yelled Herbert. “What have I done? A pizza delivery alien. Harmless, innocent, nooooo!”
On the ground was a small device. A radio? He pushed the button.
“Hello? Is anyone there? I’m so sorry…”
“Yes?” said a voice.
“Oh, thank God. We’ll have five quattro formaggi and a side of coleslaw.”
It’s Unicorn Appreciation Day!
It’s January 11th, and we all know what that means, don’t we?
Yes, it’s Unicorn Appreciation Day (UAD)! We will be celebrating here with pictures, poems and fun facts. So, let’s begin with a picture of the magnificent beast.
Hmm, I don’t think the DraliDoodle team has quite captured its full majesty. Apparently they “don’t do horsies”. Never mind, let’s have the first of our poems. This one’s from the DraliDoodle team.
Tablet ready
Stylus in hand, sketching, colouring
pointy horn.
Well, that was an epic fail, both words and picture.
FUN FACT! After being hunted almost to extinction, unicorns numbers are increasing as they are a protected species. They are only hunted by the residents of a certain populous island, and only for “research purposes”.
JOKE! What do you call a unicorn without a horn? A horse! Ha ha ha.
Blogs are expensive to run and “draliman on life” is no exception, so please bear with us while we hear from our sponsor.
Oh no. That wasn’t very appropriate, was it? I do apologise. But we need the money. Let’s move quickly on to the second of our poems, this time contributed by the DraliRomance team.
I dream
of your glossy coat, your liquid eyes, your huge
pointy horn.
The DraliRomance team has only ever had one outing on this blog and now we know why. Back in your box, DraliRomance team! Let’s try one from the DraliHorror team.
Rearing high in dark shadows
Hooves smashing, vicious ripping
pointy horn.
Yeah, that’s more like it!
FUN FACT! Did you know that a baby unicorn is correctly called a “babycorn”?
I wonder how people celebrate UAD? Here’s a picture of UAD celebrations in a typical English town. I bet everyone is having a fun time!
It doesn’t really look like family fun. At least they are all wearing the traditional unicorn headpiece, even if one enterprising chap is using it as a weapon. Let’s hear from the DraliKids team.
Glossy, cuddly
Friend to kids and bunny wabbits, catching rainbows with
pointy horn.
See, that’s more like it. At least they’re getting in the mood.
FUN FACT! Unicorns can be safely approached in the wild, but beware if they have their babycorns with them. Don’t approach during the mating season, as no-one likes to be disturbed while they’re having the rumpy pumpy.
We’ll end our unicorn fun with a poem from the DraliOffice fire marshals.
Burning, hot tongues blazing
Flesh melting, all that’s left
pointy horn.
Yoinks! It appears that all the fire marshals are members of the DraliHorror team.
I hope you all enjoyed our look at that most magical of holidays, Unicorn Appreciation Day!
Cash Cow
It’s time for my entry to Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo prompt is by Jean L. Hays.
I was going to do a dialogue based on all the “no parking” signs but ended up doing some even sillier dialogue concentrating on the banner which sort of says “Unthink”. I know it’s slightly bad form to write “500” rather than “five hundred” but I was having word count issues :-).
Read all the other contributions by clicking on the blue froggy.
“UnThink Memory Wipes” – only 500 bucks, and if ever there was a year Bob wanted to forget, this was it.
“One memory wipe,” said the receptionist. “500 dollars, please.”
Presently Bob emerged looking confused, the last year erased.
“One memory wipe – 500 dollars please, sir.”
Bob paid up (again) and left.
“Heh heh!” smirked the receptionist. “Great scam.” He turned to the technician. “You want your cut?”
“Cut of what?”
“You stood too close to the machine again, huh?” asked the receptionist.
“What machine?” asked the technician.
“Uhhhh… never mind. One memory wipe – that’ll be 500 dollars please, sir. Heh heh.”
Off Mission
It’s time for Mondays Finish the Story! This challenge is hosted by Barbara Beacham and gives us 100-150 words to write a little story based on both a photograph and an opening sentence. The opening sentence does not count towards the word count!
This week’s picture features a helicopter. Is it on a rescue or scouting mission, or is it about to rain down fiery death on some unsuspecting person? What could it be? Read on to find out!
The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story, which is called “Off Mission”.
Silently as the people watched, the black hawk helicopter lifted into the air.
Its pilot Jonas’ orders were clear – guns free, select targets of opportunity. As he flew off, keeping low to avoid radar detection, he knew exactly where he would plant his missiles.
They say “the female of the species is more deadly than the male”, and his chosen target certainly lived up to that. She was vicious, unforgiving, intractable. She destroyed lives, ripped families asunder, ground people into the dirt. Evil had a face, and it was hers.
He began to sweat as his HUD counted down the range – five kilometres, four, three… and there it was, the blacked-out customised SUV containing his nemesis.
She’d even had the nerve, the temerity, to phone him up yesterday to demand – demand! – that he “get up off his fat lazy arse” and sign the papers finalising their divorce.
“Finalise this, bitch!” he screamed as his finger tightened on the trigger.
War of the Idiots
Here is my contribution for this week’s Mondays Finish the Story. This is hosted by Barbara Beacham and we need to write between 100 and 150 words in response to a photo, and using the supplied first sentence (which doesn’t count towards the word count, and is in bold in my story).
I have popped a little bit of history at the end just in case, but read the story first! This week’s other contributions can be found by clicking on the little blue froggy.
The house of Don Francisco sat in a remote part of the desert. A conspiracy theorist, he lived alone and had fortified his basement against “Commies”, terrorists, nuclear and biological attack, the government even. Shelves held canned foods, bottled water, a book or two to read. A small generator provided electricity. He was ready!
Years later he switched on the radio and was aghast to hear bulletins advising of an alien invasion. The world was in peril! He quickly ran to his basement and locked the door.
After long months, his supplies exhausted, Don Francisco finally emerged, emaciated and weak. He staggered to the road and hailed a passing car.
“Did… we win?” he stammered.
“Dude. Win what? You need an ambulance, dude?” asked the driver, a long-haired youth.
“Nine months ago… war… aliens… on the radio…” Francisco managed.
“You mean that Orson Welles retrospective? Dude, can you believe in 1938 people thought it was for real? How stupid… oh. Dude.”
In 1938, as part of “The Mercury Theatre on the Air” series, an adaptation of HG Wells’ “War of the Worlds” was broadcast on the radio as a series of mock news bulletins, apparently causing wide-spread panic as people believed it to be real. Dude! 🙂
















