Dance of Doom

Late to the challenge, he weeped,
until offered one more chance to take.

With his sleek hat and steady feet,
he gave his best under the ominous rain.

He fell once, but later found the beat,
oblivious to tides of boiling rage.

A filthy rat licked at his tired soles,
all while he looked around this newfound murky cell.

He found no crowds, no stage, no claims of gold,
only a shockscape made of everlasting hell.

~*~

This story is linked with Lillie McFerrin's Five Sentence Fiction.

Invisible Games

Photo Source

"What are you looking at, honey?"

Molly looked back at her mother, Sylvia. "Nothing."

Sylvia held up a yellow dress on its hanger. "Well don't you want to try on this dress?

Molly wrinkled her nose. "Not really."

Sylvia lowered the dress with her other hand on her hip. "Don't use that tone with me, young lady!"

Molly looked back at the mirror. "Im sorry. Monica says the dress is too bright for me."

"Monica?"

"Are you alright, ma'am?" the store lady asked.

"I'm sorry," a man said as he slowly started ushering Sylvia toward the door and added, "She's been through quite a lot these last couple of days."

Molly giggled, still turned toward Monica. "Daddy is being weird again."

Monica shook her head. "Don't you know anything? Daddy can't see us," she said with a hint of resentment. "But at least Mommy can see you."
150 Words

* * *

I am linking this story with Angela Goff's VisDare , a weekly writing challenge of giving your best story in 150 words or less.

The Handy Man

The drops in the bucket that was perched under the room's leaky ceiling mingled with a light hue of crimson. Ben had to drain the water each morning for as long as the pommeling rain kept coming and he hoped he would never know the the truth about the water's coloring, even though he had some idea as he now clinged to his bedsheets, struggling to keep the slow-drippings off his mind.

"What's wrong?" his little brother, Pete, asked from the other side of the room.

"Nothing - just go to sleep," Ben told Pete.

"Are you still worried about that thing we saw - that ghost?"

Ben held his gaze over the dripping bucket, recalling the scarred face of the man his grandmother  had hired to "fix "the rooftop, right around the time a salesman went missing and said, "That was no ghost."

~*~

This story is linked with Two Shoes in Texas as part of the weekly Six Sentence Stories. Join me!

VisDare: Outnumbered

Woa! Looks like I went overboard with the word count for Angela Goff's VisDare challenge, 450 words overboard to be exact. Luckily, Angela said it was alright for this time around so I am letting it be.




Photo by London Dream


Outnumbered by Sanity

 

I decided to take my wife Joanna to a book signing of one of her favorite authors after being told countless of times that we didn't spend enough time together. The author stood before the podium and began reading an excerpt from his book, detailing his journey into an African wilderness and how it spoke to him about passion, inspiriration, and...blah, blah, blah.

 

I was halfway into dosing off when the blonde woman sauntered into the room with a group of black-suited men. They paid no mind to the author's presence and just stood by the glass viewport, looking out over the city.

 

I felt that I had seen the woman before so I decided to excuse myself and go to the catering table to maybe get a better look. A young redhead woman smiled by the table. "What can I get you, sir?"

 

"Do you have any beer?" I asked, knowing they didn't serve alcohol, and leered toward the direction of the blonde woman. Still, no recollection.

 

"I'm sorry, sir, we don't allow alcohol in the building," the caterer said lamentably. "We do have soft drinks."

 

"A Coke will be fine," I said.

 

I returned to Joanna's side with my drink. She turned to me with suspicious eyes.

 

"Did you get a good look?" she asked accusingly.

 

"What?"

 

"You've been oogling that girl for the past ten minutes!"

 

I shrugged. "Just thought she looked familiar, that's all."

 

"Like your whore in Vegas?"

 

"C'mon, don't start with that."

 

A few months prior to that day, I was at a convention with a few associates of mine when the idea of going to a strip joint started to float around. Despite the fact that I had no interest in going, I was talked into it. Later, someone took a photo of a dancer with her hands over my shoulders as she asked for a table dance. It was later posted on Facebook and all hell broke loose after that. We were at the brink of divorce when I convinced her that it was all just a big misunderstanding.

 

"Well, don't do me any favors by pretending you want to be here," she said. "Go if you want."

 

"I want to be here," I said. "I told you that from the beginning."

 

"Whatever," Joanna muttered and said nothing after that.

 

Moments later, the Coke had filled me up to where I needed to go to the restroom.

 

Upon returning, I noticed a frame along the hallway. A security guard was passing by when I gestured to him. "Excuse me, who is that woman?"

 

"That's Bethany Ballard," the guard replied. "She was the architect behind the design of this building."

 

"Saw her a little while ago," I commented to the guard. "Got this strange feeling that I've met her before."

 

The guard frowned. "Well whoever you saw couldn't have been Ms. Ballard. She died thirteen years ago."

 

I was left feeling even more confused than ever about the woman I had just seen. She could not have been a ghost; Joanna had seen her too.

 

We were on the interstate, on our way back home, when I told her about the portrait on the wall and what the guard had said.

 

"You did see the blonde woman right?" I asked her. "The one you pointed out to? I mean I wasn't just imaging things, right?"

 

"What blonde woman?" Joanna asked annoyed. "I didn't see any blonde woman! I was talking about the redhead at the food table, you idiot!"

 

Once again, my world was edging toward confusion, outnumbered by sanity.

 

600 Words

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



13 Days of Halloween

Eve Jacob will be hosting a flash fiction writing event at her blog called The 13 Days of Halloween. It's very simple and all you have to do to join in is submit a short fiction story of 1000 words or less with a scary-related topic. It does not even have to take place on or be about Halloween exactly as the rules say on her blog just as long as it has that fear element involved.

The deadline is on October 18 and will begin the day after that, so you have plenty of time from today to get started. Visit the link above to get contact and submission info. You can also follow Eve on Twitter HERE. She is always awesome to chat with and is great with exchanging ideas as well.

Have a great week! =D

Paragraph Planet: Still Dreaming

This is another 75-word Paragraph Planet entry I just submitted today.

It looks exactly as I sent it, calling for the title in the first sentence in the text box on their site, just so you know. I will never know exactly when or if the stories will be ever published on their site so I thought I'd share them just in case they never see the light of day on their site. enjoy. =D

***

Still Dreaming. She swayed by the dock with a vivacious smile as the music played. While the night slipped away into a peircing daylight, she would infilitrate his dreams again, much like the bad blood moment that was now in the healing process with the man who asked him, "Sleep well?" The dreamer looked at his brother, his brother's wife still dancing along the dark corner of his mind. "Not really."

My Paragraph Planet Entry: Lost Lilly

I have seen quite a few neat stories coming out of Paragraph Planet and wondered if I could actually pull off writing a 75-word story of my own. It was quite the challenge, and today, I submitted my first entry to the site.  It is a great form of practice for all writers that I highly recommend.

The following is the story I submitted and is exactly in the same manner sent because it called for a full paragraph--no splitting of any kind--so it may appear to look a little weird for some casual readers.

<#*~*#>

Lost Lilly. She was seen daily pulling a wagon filled with dolls. The kids called her "Lost Lilly" because she always appeared to be lost, wandering aimlessly with no one to claim her. One night, Sue looked out her window. The park was nearly empty when she spotted Lilly arranging her dolls in the wagon. Sue snuck out with nagging curiousity. Next morning, Lilly was seen with thirteen dolls, one more than her previous dozen.

75 Words





Five Sentence Fiction: Forgotten

This story is written for Lillie Mcferrin's Five Sentence Fiction.

This week's word prompt: Forgotten

The Silent Room

Forgotten memories sprung to life inside her head, reeling memories of spending many summer nights by her side near the open window, where the mild breeze swirled around them, and secrets bounced back and forth between the two links that were once the best of friends.

Natalee turned to the woman who now had posession of the place and asked, "What happened to this room?"

"I guess the loneliness got the best of her," the lady replied and added, "Sometimes loneliness gets the best of us who know it well eventually - making us do all sorts of crazy things."

"Who are you talking about - you mean Lindsay?"

The lady lifted her gaze toward the ceiling, Natalee following along with her own, later discovering the pulsing surface above where a contorted face pressed against it, struggling hard to pass her screams.

The New Vision - Written for Five Sentence Fiction and Two Shoes Tuesday #20

I am linking up this next story with Lillie Mcferrin's Five Sentence Fiction  featuring this past week's prompt "Inspire" and Josie's Two Shoes Tuesday, which will be ready to link up by Tuesday featuring its new word prompt "Aware".

No photo again, as I am still having a hard time uploading photos with Blogger, but I hope the issue gets resolved soon.

The New Vision

Every Wednesday on his way home from work, as he drove past the sprawling parking lot of the closed supermarket, Henry couldn't help but to wonder what purpose served the group's gathering with its members already seated on chairs arranged in a circle under a tent.

One day during lunchbreak at work, he was taken aback when  his co-worker Mellanie admitted that she had joined the group, telling him that she had never felt more "inspired" by anything in her life, and that the whole experience had empowered her with such an "unbelievable sense of awareness".

Eventually, Mellanie convinced Henry to sit in for a session, and at the end of it all, Henry felt no change whatsoever.

He woke up Thursday morning to his usual routine, and while bustling through the crowding hostile traffic, he was cursed at by an angry driver next to him for cutting him off along the lane.

Henry turned to look at the enraged man, shock bringing a chilling reality over his senses, becoming fully aware that the man and everyone else around him were branded with monstrous red-eyed gnarling faces, and the usual upcoming construction sign ahead that usually read Road Work Ahead now read: Inspire a Change for a New Revolution and Destroy an Enemy!



Two Shoes Tuesday #19: Earworm.

This past Tuesday, Josie from Two Shoes Tuesday put up this week's prompt: earworm. 

I suggested the word to Josie on the day Kingdom Come's "Get it On" got stuck in my head all day after hearing it play on a classic rock radio station, only I assumed it was from Led Zeppelin with the vocalist sounding very much like Robert Plant.

Later in the day, somone told me otherwise, and I learned that a band called Kingdom Come actually existed.

Anyway, an idea came to my head about how a somewhat similar situation might play out in another short flash fiction piece I call "Forgotten Fame". 

By the way, I've been having trouble uploading photos. If anyone else is having these issues on Blogger, please let me know in the comments. Thanks!

Forgotten Fame

"Great song. I heard it on the radio this morning, has been stuck in my head ever since."

"It is a great song," the store owner smiled, holding the record album in his hand and then handed it to Edna. "You can certainly find it here along with other great ones as well."

Edna studied the album and frowned. "Well that's nice but do you have the one with the vultures flying over the red mountains on the front cover?"

"Well this is the only album available ma'am."

"Are you sure?" Edna raised her left brow. "Perhaps you can order it for me. I'll be more than happy to pay extra for it."

"You don't understand, ma'am," the store owner explained. "The Wild Wallaroos only produced one album before they broke up in 1983. This is the only album you'll ever find of the band."

"You must be mistaken," Edna protested. "What about the one with the vultures on it? There's even a picture of the singer with one of the vultures standing on top of his head found on the back of the album. What's his name?" Edna looked up, trying to remember the name but then shook her head. "I'm so bad with names."

"Well I don't know about any vultures, but Leonard Festa was the lead singer of the Wild Wallaroos."

"Leonard Festa," Edna pressed an index on her lips and then shook her head again. "No. Maybe it was the other singer in the band."

"There was no other singer."

"No, but there is," Edna insisted. "There's that one singer  with the deep voice and then there's that one you just mentioned, the one that sounds alot like Billy Squire."

To avoid a tantrum, like the many he struggled to maintain constantly as Leonard Festa with former bandmates, the now simple small store owner breathed in deeply, glaring at Edna as he pointed toward the exit door. "Get...OUT!"

VisDare #2:Resolute

"The Riding Rebel" is written for Angela Goff's VisDare.  The challenge: Write a 150 word story using the photo promt and word. This weeks word is "Resolute".

Enjoy. =)

The Riding Rebel

"Marla, why don't you just apply for disability benefits?"

Laughter erupted from the crowd, ridiculing Marla's limping walk that stemmed from a recent bike-riding accident.

Marla glared at Leroy. "I'll do that if you admit to everyone that you still wet the bed, fool!"

Leroy looked around, voices oohing and aawing, and then looked back at Marla. "That's bull!"

"Whatever," Marla waved away, riding into her resolute destination.

The bar was now coming into view, her heart carrying an uncontrollable rythm.

When she saw Antwon sitting at a corner booth, motioning her over with a certain gloom in his eyes, she already knew that bad news awaited.

"Hey, Antwon," Marla said, handing him a sealed envelope. "Got a message for you."

Antwon took the envelope and opened it. After studying its contents, Antwon rose his gaze toward Marla. "Marla, tell Leroy he's fired."

Marla smiled. "My pleasure."

150 WORDS

VisDare #1: Between

Some people say that I'm very much like a caveman in the sense that I am unwilling to buy into all the hype that spits out ads from the latest high-tech gadgets toward almost every direction.

I still prefer paperbacks over e-books, do most of my writing on my typewriter or composition notebook, and draw most of my inspiration listening to classic rock songs on the very same am/fm radio that has been fueling me with so many ideas since the late eighties. There are many convenient reasons on why I should start benefiting from these over-hyped creations of the digital age, but I have yet to be convinced that I cannot live without them. Until then, I will remain loyal to my old-fashioned fossil gems from the 20th century and laugh at the face of contemporary conformity.

Small changes, however, can be very welcoming, much like Anonymous Legacy's  newly revamped  VisDare. The New Year is being rolled out with a boost in the usual word count limit from 100 to 150 words. Also, the Twitter hastag has changed from #VisualDare to #VisDare. Today's prompt is "Between" with the corresponding photo prompt below.

This story is a bit different from my usual stories, but again, small changes aren't all that bad.

And now the story begins....

The Love Charade

Somewhere between bored and weary, Bryan slumped back in his seat, yearning for the movie's long-awaited end. He rolled his eyes when the actor, perched on the ledge, begged for forgiveness from a woman he barely knew, using a line he thought was downright sappy.

His girlfriend, Amanda sighed and said, "Isn't that beautiful?"

"Sure,' Bryan replied. "She must really be something for him to go through all that trouble."

Amanda's face soured. "He's romantic!"

"No, he's a moron."

It was one day after the movie when Bryan found himself sitting on a long concrete strip high above the ground.

Dressed in a similar suit as the actor with the top hat and umbrella, Bryan shouted the same line toward Amanda's window. "Your contempt is like this never-ending rain: cold and relentless! I can barely stand without the warmth of your love! Please forgive me!"

146 WORDS

Two - Prompt Story

The following story was written for two prompts that got underway this past week so I am a little late again.

The word prompt for Two Shoes Tuesday this week is Discombobulated (Yes, it's a word.) and the word prompt for Lillie McFerrin's Five Sentence Fiction is Midnight.

Special thanks to Josie, owner of Two Shoes Tuesday for picking up my suggested word for next week on her site: earworm. Click on the link above and check it out sometime.

Again, this story is dark much like my others just to let you know in advance. Have a great weekend. =)

Lights Out

It was just after midnight when the lights went out all across the town below the hilltop, the same spot where they spent many passionate moments, sharing the same spectacular view on many different occasions.

"That's strange," Megan said, discombobulated by the sudden blackout and added, "I wonder what happened."

"Who cares," Adam raised the duffel bag he picked up from the hood of his car and then said, "This whole damn place will be nothing but a memory after we're off relaxing in some tropical paradise with our huge final score!"

The lights came on, but it wasn't the city lights that came alive, and when the sherriff stepped off the vehicle with his gun drawn, Adam dropped the bag, raised his hands and pleaded, "Please, I'm not resisting!"

"Oh Adam...you're so dramatic," Megan said while picking up the bag, then walked up to the sherriff to plant one kiss on his lips before the sherriff returned his gaze and gun on Adam, shattering his skull into pieces.

55 Word Challenge: Deadly Dice Games

Every Wednesday,  at Jezri's Nightmares, The 55 Word Challenge contest is hosted with the winner getting a $5 gift card from Amazon plus a badge to display on your own blog. The contest: Enter a short story with exactly 55 words following one of the picture prompts listed. Think you can pull it off? Check it out!

I missed this week's prompt, and had a good one too, but decided to post it anyway.

This atrocious soul once thought to be heavenly, wisked her away from a night of festivities. She now found herself strapped to a chair, her lips bound by leather and her life hanging by the roll of a die.

She yearned for a miraculous seven, but a roll of six landed on her destiny.



Visual Dare: Disobey

This short fiction flash is linked with Anonymous Legacy's Visual Dare . A picture prompt is added every week along with a word prompt. Todays word: Disobey

Maddy's Mystic World #1

Missing Maddy

"I can't believe it's been a month," Maddy's mother Susan said, sobbing uncontrollably. "She was such a good girl. Who would ever want to harm her?"

"I don't know," Maddy's school teacher, Ms. Benavides replied. "but just try to think positively."

Learning that Benavides' daughter went missing years ago, Susan grew deeply connected to her.

Finding some consolation, Susan left shortly before the bell, leaving Benavides alone in her classroom, one of many snow globes from her collection in hand, watching as tiny fists pommeled frantically from within. "Sick horse, huh? You'll never lie to me again, that's for sure."

Continue Reading-- >>> Maddy's Mystic World #2: The Talking Tree

100 Words (excluding title and continuation line)

Two Shoes Tuesday: Lights

If you have not checked out Josie's blog challenge at Two Shoes in Texas, and like to keep the creative flow moving like me, then you are missing out on a great opportunity.

Josie gives a word prompt every Tuesday, and from there, it's all up to you what you make of it, and there is no time limit for your entry. This week's word is "Lights".

Coming off from a recent 100 word challenge on my last post, I decided to give this week's prompt a try by limiting myself to one hundred words as well.

Be warned. Most of my stories, like this one, tend to get a little dark,  just so you know. Enjoy. :-)

The Last Dance



Photo Credit: brh_images



The lights danced along the edge of the stage, moving with her rythm.

Malcolm took a sip of his drink and smiled. Her full red lips smiled back. 

He scanned across the patron audience, mostly forty-somethings aiming for a thrill.

He then spotted the signal, a hooded man with shades nodded his confirmation.

Later, as the song came to its end, she came to him.

"May I have this dance?"

"Absolutely," Malcolm replied.

She swayed before him, her touch intoxicating his senses.

Malcolm breathed in, with only one thought still looming over him: shame this will be her very last dance.

100 WORDS



Triple Visual Dare #4: Xavier's Justice

It's that time again for Anonymous Legacy's Triple Visual Dare.

I almost let this one go until an idea hit me as I was slipping into dreamland and then yanked me out of bed. I highlighted the words in italics to indicate relation to the visual prompts.

Enjoy!



No one entered these Halls of Purity except for members of The Order.

Standing before one of many live murals, Xavier leaned close, his lips barely touching the canvass and said, "I must confess something."

Waiting for a reply, Xavier heard the cawing of a bird and wondered if it was a protector, knowing that they come in many forms.

"Go on," a soft whisper replied.

"Darkness consumes me."

The birds stormed in to defend but failed. Serpents marked by vengeance seeped out from every other mural of the live temple and cut through every fiber of its existence.

Continue to Chapter Two

100 WORDS

Five Sentence Fiction: Joy

Last week, I did not have an opportunity to post any short fiction challenges mainly because I was swamped with other matters. But, I'm back, and this post is another short flash piece for Lillie McFerrin's Five Sentence FIction page.

Today's story asks the question of wether Carl is really turning into a delusional alcoholic or maybe he has discovered something far more disturbing.

Have a good weekend everyone! =-)

Carl knew he was not the known for his looks, but once in a while, he did manage to steal a few inviting smiles and gestures from some attractive ladies from time to time, but never from women quite as beautiful as the one that was sitting at a table from a corner of the lounge.

Maybe it was the drink that made her appear to smile, Carl thought as he sipped on a cold ale, but to assure himself, he tapped on a passing elderly waiter and gestured toward the young woman at the corner. "I'd like to buy that lady over there a drink."

The waiter squints and looks over to the corner and looks back at Carl blankly, and when Carl gestures toward the woman again, the waiter tells him, "I'm sorry sir but that corner area has been off limits since 1972, the year that the owner's daughter, Ms. Joy Harris, was killed in that horrible car accident."

With chills streaking down his spine, Carl shot back the last of his ale, waved to the bartender , paid his tab and bolted out of that place faster than his racing heart, promising himself that he would never drink another day, but more importantly, he would never set foot on The Euphoria Escape Lounge ever again.

Gynoid

The following is an entry for Tuesday Tales that comes from the mind of  Stevie McCoy. This weeks prompt called for use of the word "Gynoid", a female android with the picture below to accompy the story, all within 100 words. Are you up for the challenge?. Give it a shot!

Enjoy!

Photo Credit: Deviant Art

Keema X5000 stood at the tip of this elusive beast known as the Tyorno Organization where the world's only source for its hi-tech infantry units dwelled. She scanned across the neon-splattered city skyline, spotting the signal  she needed to spring into action.

With a swift stomp on the pedal, Keema sped away into the streaming air artery of vehicles, the orange glow behind her prompted what she understood to be a smile, with the beast now falling into its inferno of doom.

She was now the last of her kind, declaring herself the only liberated gynoid to have ever existed.

100 Words

Five Sentence Fiction: Character

My entry for this week's Five Sentence Fiction hosted by Lillie McFerrin

Photo Credit: Lord Kevinz

Five years had passed since the near fatal acccident that left her paralyzed, her dreams of ever making it as a top-ranking cyclist now shattered, but Julia felt that there was still something inside of her that not even the worst catastrophe known to humanity could ever take away from her; her goal-driven character.

She had realized this through a dream she had while undergoing a surgery, her feet dangling just above the ground, levitating toward a green patch of botanical life she knew well as a child that instilled a sense of being safe and protected.

She was warmed by that feeling, but the feeling grew dull too quickly, and she found herself wanting to shake away that comfort zone, kicking and pushing away with fierce defiance.

The illusion gradually brittled and faded into a white brightness, eventually replaced by a man dressed in white, her doctor, who then leaned close to her ear and said, "Julia, can you hear me...can I get you something?"

With a dry sore voice, Julia nodded and said, "A phone book, please...wanna speak with my trainer about a new plan."