I bathe in sound. I sample nibbles of pleasure from each vibration darting across my ear drums and diving into my cortex, translated into a sensuous internal orgy, savouring each soft contact. Conducting each stochastic orchestra, I stand proud and revel in the tempo and timpani of the beats of life, vibrant, swayful, playful. I zealously horde rictus rhythms, stockpiling them deep in psychological vaults, ready to access at a moment’s notice, always ready for me. Dextrous fingers tap out the beat, luxuriating in the lovers’ secret dance, beneath covers of shame…
It’s the silence that fills my nightmares.
Written for Charli Mills’ weekly 99-word prompt challenge, on the theme of “the sense of sound” – https://carrotranch.com/2016/08/04/august-3-flash-fiction-challenge/
Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/ninac52/16342600542
I was getting cold feet about this particular fantasy roleplay. It’s really not my “thing”, getting kidnapped in a van and dragged away for her to ravage me, but Bess seemed very keen on it. Very keen. I never could refuse those puppy dog eyes… or the fire behind them.
So when the van screamed around the corner, I didn’t wait for her. I pulled open the back door and dived straight in!
As I stood there, faced with three very large, very-not-Bess men, in balaclavas, sawn-off shotguns in hand, I suspected that perhaps this was the wrong van.
—Hiya m8, still up 4 drinks 2nite?
– Sorry, you’ve got the wrong number.
—Come on Dave, don’t be like that.
– Steve? That u?
—Not Steve. Nice jumper btw. Let us in, I’d murder a cuppa!
(Dave looks out of the front window, at an empty garden)
– Funny fucker, aren’t you. You’ve had your fun. Piss off now.
—Dave, don’t be like that.
– I mean it. Piss off.
—Last chance, Dave. Let us in.
(Dave steps out of his front door to check. Nothing. Returns inside.)
“Funny how people never lock their back doors, isn’t it? Now, about that cuppa…”
Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/gagilas/8400671726
Has anyone read this story before??
Once upon a time, there was a simple, self-aware Story. It went about its business in the town of Letters-on-the-Page, quietly sowing seeds that would be developed later. As inevitably happens, some chaotic words were introduced, disrupting the cosiness of Story’s existence. Things got steadily worse, despite Story’s best efforts.
In the middle, Story decided a different approach was needed. The experience had fundamentally changed it.
Nevertheless, those unsavoury words looked like they had the upper hand. Calamity! Then, just in the nick of time, everything was resolved in an obvious yet surprising way, paving way for… “The End”.
Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/rossyyume/7772794404
“Sir, we’ve analysed the results of the Serendipity Stick.”
“Well, what have you found out about this couple?”
“Well, the stick says that their meeting and falling for each other was approximately 80% fate, 10% chance, 5% inevitability, 3% drunken luck, and 2% for…”
“2% for the moon, sir. Apparently it’s in waxing crescent phase. That always implies new growth.”
“That’s right, sir. New growth. It’s all the rage.”
“Is that so? I have a somewhat simpler explanation. None of your scientific mumbo-jumbo.”
(snaps stick and hits the other man with it)
“It’s love, dumbass.”
May each of you be hit with the serendipity stick 🙂
Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/dragonoak/5892635331
I stumbled on through the desert, so close I could taste it, feel its nectar sliding down my parched throat. Days wandering dusty wastes, every breath clogged with abrasive sand, would soon pay off. One more forsaken hill, one more desolate dune… It was relentless. Ever-shifting, numbingly monotonous, beneath an unforgiving sun.
One more dune to go… Too far. I collapsed from exhaustion, rolling without resistance to the base, my world tumbling with it. I cried salt tears, utterly broken. Defeated.
Then, lying there in the dust, I finally found what I’d really been searching for all along.
Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/colfrankland/8369256554
Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2016/07/21/july-20-flash-fiction-challenge/ on the theme “surprise in a desert”
The train slowed from an imperceptible crawl to a palpable stop. “Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of East Midlands trains I’d like to apologise for the delay.
“Unfortunately, the driver has lapsed into a deep malaise… Is there perhaps a poet on the train?”
I leapt to attention.
“If I may be so bold as to show it,
I am, indeed, sir, a poet!”
Everyone in the carriage burst into a spontaneous, enthusiastic and prolonged round of applause. An old couple started dancing in the aisle. A middle-aged mother swooned. An angry man wept into his tattoos…
Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/12287146
Luke flailed wildly against the fresh zombie. Weakened by hunger, he didn’t even have a weapon this time. Heart thumping, he backed up, heading for the kitchen – searching for a knife, anything… nothing. No knife block. Cutlery drawer?
He grabbed the first metallic item and swung, eyes closed, at the zombie’s head. It speared in through its ear. The zombie dropped to the floor, inanimate again.
Steve burst into the room with his club. “You ok?” He took one look at the scene and burst out laughing. “Use the forks, Luke!”
Luke dropped to his knees, sobbing, utterly drained.
This is the second one today from my friend Sandra’s “zombie – fork” prompt 🙂 Apologies to all the nice Steves out there. A couple of them have done you a real disservice!
Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/albercik/3066168639
“Do you know what I hate about zombies? Obviously, apart from the whole undead-risen-eating-my-friends thing?” Steve was in full flow, playing to the crowd (of one).
Not again. Faith sighed, eyes on the road. If I ignore him, will he shut up?
“No manners. No pretty please or thank yous. They never wait in line. They don’t even use knives and forks, let alone napkins!”
Faith lined up the approaching zombie in her sights, whispered “Excuse me!”, and splattered its brains across the asphalt. She didn’t know what was worse.
An eternity of this, or another day with him.
Written for my friend Sandra, who sort of prompted me to write using the prompts “zombie” and “fork”… I actually wrote two! So, if anyone else has some burning idea for a story or a prompt, feel free to lob them at this chimp like a banana!
Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/cipion/14919716673
Things have been tough since we arrived, but my people try not to make a fuss. I think that’s why we fit in so well, despite the green skin. And second heads.
There have been some… misunderstandings… along the way. Apparently your dogs are not snack food. We learnt that lesson the hard way. Now, we keep our hungers hidden.
Its’s the least we could do, after you took us in; gave us shelter.
But you really have no idea how delicious you taste…
I’m not asking for forgiveness.
All I’m asking is that you respect my human needs.
Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/jdhancock/3653177703
Written for https://carrotranch.com/2016/06/29/june-29-flash-fiction-challenge/, on the prompt of “human needs”. I twisted the prompt a little 🙂