Going Hemingway with a Line, the Atlantic Ocean, and Heartache (1)

Going Hemingway with a Line, the Atlantic Ocean, and Heartache (1)
Sooo late for this one. 
This is a Chuck Wendig Prompt, in honour of Anthony Bourdain.
RIP.

You ever been to the Island of Flowers? No? You shouldn’t miss out on this one. Portuguese Madeira is a hungry but beautiful place. The mild climate and the rich soil gives it the most precious gifts Mother Nature can give an island.

Okay, I’m done with the touristic daisy-incrusted crap. Pull your fingers out of your ears and stop with the ‘la-la-la-la’.

We’re free for the real stuff, the naked appreciation of food, nature, life. Continue reading “Going Hemingway with a Line, the Atlantic Ocean, and Heartache (1)”

Devil’s Peak

Devil’s Peak

a Chuck Wendig prompt – Strange Photos /  Lily by Rudi Zygadlo / this is a WIP – a zero draft to get the characters, the plot and the end gets rewritten and posted again

-SUPERSTITION-

Five minutes ago I hoped to drop the kennel cleaning into the rookie’s lap, but we got the call.

Dispatch told us to get the dogs and meet up, with the search party at Devil’s Peak. “Shit.” I instantly knew this was going to be a bad night. My palms itched, my neck tingled and burned. The rookie was going to have his baptism by fire. “Another kid?” I asked but didn’t need to. The calendar answered before dispatch could confirm. Full moon. “Damn.” The rookie got my gaze and stood up. “On our way.” I hung up. Continue reading “Devil’s Peak”

space monkey mafia (1)

space monkey mafia (1)

dangers of underserved power – a chuck wendig prompt


I wave a cheeseburger in front of the animal. The chimpanzee observes carefully. He nods vigorously, showing teeth. His ears flap. Chuck’s the only chimp I know to prefer burgers over bananas, or fruits, or gummy bears. He’s a primate in every way.

Probably I could bribe him with booze and cigarettes too. Nearly a human…

I point at the screen. The pattern is so slow, that even the stoned biology student catches up.  Continue reading “space monkey mafia (1)”

Thorns and Rose

Thorns and Rose

Old age was a curse.

Anyone old enough could relate.

It marked the slow end of abilities, and the beginning of limitations. But this was a world made of limitations, wasn’t it? Old age was an abomination, a fence, an unscalable wall, but only if you ignored your abilities all your life long. Within those boundaries, anyone could roam freely.

My name is Rose, like the flower. My short-lived husband, Carl, loved my bloom, my thorns, my venom.  He called my sense of justice, venom.

Continue reading “Thorns and Rose”

No one calls Vespa names…

a chuck wending Friday flash fiction challenge (X) – a 100-word story- okay, it’s less…


 

Today, some idiot calls me a saucy twelve-year-old bitch. The name’s Vespa. No one calls me that!

I may not look like it, but I’m far older than you may suspect. Luckily, I don’t need more than twelve seconds to cast a nasty spell…

Don’t be surprised, if you meet a five feet tall rat in Central Park. Please don’t call him Splinter…

everyone needs good staff

a chuck wending prompt (X), 5-sentence-story / 100 words

music inspired: Burn my shadow away, by UNCLE (war stories)

Entropy was a bitch, but only because I wasn’t a morning person.

Temperature fell below zero in a blink, my breath formed little vapor clouds.

My shadow bloated and blurred the room, stretching to the corners, fanning out and coaxing my thoughts into reality.

A blood colored velvet Chesterfield dropped to the ground with a thud, and a hot cup of tea wobbled into existence right in front of my left hand.

Really tired of these morons, working for me, nothing but a waste of space and energy… Being the devil, doesn’t make my job easier…

 

Advertising

a chuck wending prompt (link); a 5-sentence-story (max 100 words)

A big, unusual looking white wolf stood on top of the hill, the forest in its back, stretched its hind paws and yawned.

Maybe its sky-colored eyes, or its gold dipped tail, or its huge glistening fangs  made it look so exceptional…

Just before sunrise, the horizon started glowing and writing flashed to rush across the sky, as it always did.

The wolf read it out: “Thank you for choosing Strix Planetary Maintenance Systems.”

“Crap, time to upgrade,” the wolf rolled its eyes.

 

holy shit, free opening sentences

  1. “Now that’s afterlife,” the ferryman pointed out amused with his clicking teeth, “you really are a busy body.”
  2. I feel like I should say something clever, or sassy, but I am cold and need my clothes back. Please?
  3. My right formed a pretended gun and fired: BANG, BANG – was I surprised when I hit the target…
  4. “What’s the matter sweetheart, never taken a shortcut before?”
  5. “I’m on the highway to hell,” I blared on performing CPR.
  6. My daughter Emily loves pancakes with chocolate chips and bananas, but this Emily at the table is all wrong, and she won’t let me go.
  7. “Not that you could ever use it, but that’s the secret of creation,” Lucifer nudged gently the leaves of the potted daisies.
  8. “I’ve been thinking,” she cut the foxglove flowers into fine stripes and put them into the teapot, “maybe you need a long nice holiday, darling.”
  9. “That ridiculous excuse of a human being was the god of locks,” Paine shook his head in disbelief.
  10. “Now everybody, repeat,” I stood at the speaker’s desk, pausing for effect, “I AM FREE!
  11. “Yeah, I’d go for a big, hairy ‘n all teeth sidekick,” Lev wrung his fist with a fit of elation, as the goblin nodded approvingly.-producing a huge slobbery pug in the size of a pony…
  12. I heard him snicker over his “Ladies first”, so I threw a chair at his face, that’ll teach him.
  13. “Why are you shooting at me?”
  14. I shared a bunk with a quiet man, a huge afro-american cyborg, with the average of ten words and two facial expression a week.
  15. The tall shadow of Lieutenant Rizzo appeared in the doorway, bubbling drunken zombie words, „sowhyamupnwhuusresponsble?”
  16. I lowered the stethoscope and the heavy door swung open.
  17. The pink tutu bounced up and down as the little girl ran away from my yard, screaming for her mommy.
  18. “Less talking, more running,” Ivanov grunted, cranking the control lever on the emergency life support system.
  19. Adam smirked, floored the gas pedal, and the car skid around the corner.
  20. The tiger yawned, looked at me pitifully, folded his paws and studied my CV, not trying to hide his boredom.
  21. Sleipnir dipped over the event horizon, and started broadcasting “I got you Babe” over all emergency channels.
  22. “Fuck off, grasshopper,” the monks sucked his teeth and let his arrow fly.
  23. “Don’t know, whose dream is this anyway,” the monkey asked, “I’m bored already!”
  24. “Sorry,” I managed a confused face, “I don’t speak bullshit.”
  25.  “Well?” The Spanish Inquisitor leaned forward expectantly, quill ready to note my unspeakable sins. He will be flabbergasted!
  26. The Yellow Emperor glanced into the mirror and smirked, taking over the realm of humans was easier than he thought. “All that Selfie-business is playing nicely into his hands.”

The Goblet of Lost Chicago

a Chuck Wendig flash fiction challenge - here

The shopwindow was white. It kept snowing. Wouldn’t stop anytime soon. I had to clean it away as fast as possible. Long time since I saw anything else than winter. Actually it’s been snowing nearly daily since the …thing. And the thing was a freak weather event, that’s what the telly said.

Some months ago I met an actual meteorologist. He said, it was an unnatural event, with it’s center above the North Atlantic Ocean, somewhere between Greenland and Canada. He was on his way up there, to see with his own eyes. Babbled something about a military experiment – a great heap of steaming nonsense, but he was a customer.

He bought a great deal of ropes and alpine gear from me, some supplies too. He asked about dogsleds, so I pointed him to Charlie, in Egg Harbor. Left me a lot of money  and propane coupons, good for three months. Mary was delighted with the coupons, but she had to go shopping with the money right away. One day, we waited too long and we could  only buy half of the goods we could have, the day before. A mistake not to happen twice.

So while Mary went shopping, I went to meet Charlie and Walt. We had a private little business to keep our supplies stocked. Walt got in some great loot. We won’t have problems for the coming half year.

Future Graveyard

a Chuck Wendig flash fiction challenge (240 w) here

I plucked out a thin thread from the empty space in front of me.

With a gentle pull, I rotated my index around it. Slowly. With elliptical movements, carefully not to rip it. Always the same, always one thread at the time. I tugged at the fabric of destiny, twirled it between my thumb and index, till it became solid. Not one resisted my hands. I made a ball, in the size of my fist.

It looked like hair, made of pure moonlight. I remembered its glow, when I was still able to see, but that was long ago.

Somewhere around me, on the limestone tiles of the room, there must be over ten thousand orbs of glowing silver.

Decades passed, and what I did, I did every day. Since I got blind, I only imagined, when one day began and when it ended. The only constant occurrences were the food. They always send a child with the food, once a day – probably – always a different child.

But that wasn’t my concern.

My duty was to eliminate the uncertain futures, by pulling the alternative destiny patterns out of the tissue of time. I obliterated parallel events out of the myriads of possibilities. The run in the fabric collapsed the unwanted realities on its own. I only hooked the critical event and tugged, till I felt the cold sigh of perishing on my face.