Sunday, May 28, 2017

Mean Orc

Octoberville

Peter and Matt, two friends of the orc, were talking in the hospital corridor.
“No orc should have to go through this. The contusion was serious and now he’s talking funny. Everyone is laughing at him.” Peter rolled his eyes in disgust.
“Well, I suppose,” replied Matt, “but he was always slightly mean. Don’t you remember when…”
“I really don’t care. He should be respected. He’s fragile now.”
Suddenly, the orc died.
Peter waved. Matt got closer.
“I killed him,” whispered Peter.
“What on earth? Why??”
“I was talking to him and, man, did he have a mean bad breath.”
100 Word Stories

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Bank

Enoshima

The security camera of the bank turned slowly, especially because it would get stuck in a certain position looking away from the main room into a wall. When Deborah stood in front of the camera frantically waving for help, Thomas, the security guy, was watching TV. The SWAT team stormed the bank and saved Deborah. Thomas took a glance, still the wall. But it was time to go home. He put on his coat and walked downstairs, a broom in hand, to hit the slow camera back into motion. Then, Deborah grabbed the broom and hit Thomas with it, quickly!
100 Word Stories

Sunday, May 14, 2017

Thump

Wintersweet

Thump, thump, thump, the little rabbit rushes on, thumping his little leg on the ground.
And he huffs and he puffs.
Thump, thump, thump. Away, farther away, the little rabbit thumps southbound, immersed in thoughts profound.
And he huffs and he puffs, harder and harder and kicks and kicks around.
“Where’s the playground? Where’s the foxhound?”
And the thumping little thumps, they abound.
Sick of this monotony of sounds, the thumping rabbit goes underground, still huffing, still puffing.
But, oh… what happened, what happened? He tripped, knocked his head on the ground, poor little thumping rabbit, said the wicked ultrasound.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, May 7, 2017

What a Circus

Octoberville

Four men entered the Carnival grounds and shot a few rounds left and right before robbing the cash register in the souvenirs stand. Luckily, they didn't hurt anyone. Sophie, however, wasn't happy. She pulled on her father’s hand, wide-eyed. The 5-year old pointed at the carousel, a big hole on the thigh of one of the horses. The father nodded. When the robbers were arrested, they were sick to their stomachs. Sophie’s father, with the help of other by-standers, had tied them up to the colorful horses, heads down, and made them go a few rounds, left and right.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, April 30, 2017

Rogue Quiz

Milk Wood

Lilly studied a lot for the quiz about Nature. The prize was wonderful, a prize she had dreamed of for years. Well, she was only nine, but she had dreamed of it for quite a while.
There was only one problem. Tommy. Tommy was an expert cheater and he had won the last few prizes. She could barely look at his smirk.
While Mrs. Blake was not paying attention, Tommy sneaked a peek at his cheat notes and Lilly poked a finger in his ribs. He screeched in pain.
“Tommy!”
Yes, he was disqualified.
That was the best prize ever.
100 Word Stories
(Prompt: PICK TWO: Gorge, Hockey, Pallor, Quiz, Mellow, Rogue, Marsh, Caesar)

Sunday, April 23, 2017

What?

Forgotten City

“Go up the hill, then left. Take ten steps and turn right. Walk straight forward for about twenty steps and then walk back ten steps, turn left and then right. Go around the fountain in the middle of the square twice and then forward a few steps, say 10. You should see it.”
“What?”
“You should see it there.”
“Wait a second. Why do I have to take twenty steps forward and ten back?”
“For the same reason you have to go around the fountain twice.”
“And why is that?”
“If you haven’t figured that out yet, you never will.”

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Offend

Pure Dreams

The family gathering was supposed to be a fun get-together, but it never was. Everyone pretended it to be great. Long time no see, you look great, and heavier, you've grown to look just like your mother, big nose and all. The usual remarks and the standard sarcasm. However, they would all go back, each year, for the family gathering.

Until that day when grandfather, whom they thought was hopelessly senile, put everyone back in their places.
“Have I offended anyone?”
The silence marked the end of the family get-togethers, well, until grandfather’s funeral, that is, where everyone met again.

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Correct

UWA

“Didn't I tell you not to stand at the back of the room, staring at the ceiling? I find that extremely annoying, not to mention distracting. You cannot just stand there in silence. You haven’t said a word since the course started. Your attitude is totally unacceptable,” said the teacher, furious.
Without any sudden movements, the student pointed at the ceiling and everyone looked up.
A gigantic spider had built a massive spider web where huge flies were stuck and desperately fought for their lives.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, sir, but that’s quite the life lesson, wouldn't you say?”

Sunday, April 2, 2017

Tumble

Purple

Time tumbled the walls of the old theater. Abandoned for years, it became refuge for all sorts of animals, including good old Ronald. Ronald found a secret room underneath the stage and decided to hide there. This time he didn't run too far. The only problem was the kid. He always kept half the money Ronald gave him to get food, and he was a dangerous blabber. When the kid’s mom showed up and dragged Ronald by the ear to the local police station, the kid waved the little flag Ronald had placed on the wall of his secret room.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Camp NaNoWriMo April 2017



Here we go again. A few days till the beginning of Camp NaNoWriMo.
The story I plan to write this year is an erotic thriller. I have been preparing it for four months. For the first time since I started doing NaNoWriMo/Camp NaNoWriMo, I've plotted every chapter carefully, leaving little room to chance. I hope that by doing this, I'll be able to stick to revising/editing more easily after I'm done with the writing stage.
My goal for April is to write the first 10k words. This means 334 words a day. It should be easy to do.
The story is untitled for now, although I have a few options to choose from. However, none has proven to be "the one" yet.
The characters are lined up and ready to be totally mischievous, and the story has enough twists and turns to keep everyone on their toes.
So, drum roll! Let the writing begin!

Sunday, March 26, 2017

On Eggshells

SIC


New job, new goals, more money. That was great, right? Wrong.
Arthur’s supervisor, a wannabe vampire of sorts, decided to bite all the men in the company.
Arthur wasn't fond of bites, especially of co-workers, even if they were female. So, he maneuvered cautiously through the intricate maze of corridors.
The day the supervisor caught him by the wrist, he smashed her face in with the lunch tray.
He told the police he feared for his life. They believe him.
And Arthur joined another company. This time, the goal was to find a quiet work environment… with no biting.
(Prompt: PICK TWO: Join, Aspirin, Gravy, Mercantile, Polar, Clay, Eggshell, Juniper)

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Dry

UWA Tricia Farella


No land in sight, no end in sight, no peace.
The ship sailed through the rough storm, and most disappeared quickly. The dread and the roar fought furiously as wind and rain slapped against the sides of this frail vessel, a growing fever of force subduing even the strongest will.
And the thunderous darkness fed on the fears inside, witness to an ominous dance of threats and horror.
And all she wanted was a warm, dry place where she could be in peace, an inner peace of rainless boredom, that carefree nothingness that without warning lets the warm sun through.

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Flap

Octoberville


The tent flap suddenly flew open and any vague hope of privacy vanished in a split second.
“What are you doing?” Mrs. Hamilton’s raspy voice echoed through the valley.
“Nothing.” Romeo tried to conceal the true reason of his embarrassment by pulling the sleeping bag over his lap.
The camp monitor was relentless and drilled him with questions.
When she left, her doubts not totally set aside, Romeo smiled.
“That was a close call.” 
The short alien nodded and grinned.
“Good thing we don’t have these small houses back home, we just become invisible.”
“What?! Why didn't you say so?”

Sunday, March 5, 2017

Suggestion

Octoberville

“Try looking under the bed, he says … Why didn't he come upstairs himself and look under the bed? Why did I have to be the one looking under the bed? On my knees, getting my best clothes dirty… Yeah, like the dude is going to hide under the bed. What if I find him? What then? I’ll just say, hello, you. All good?”
Silence.
“Oh, damn. What’s this?”
More silence.
“Hey, Patrick. He’s not under the bed. But I found that hand we lost track of. The one we chopped off of the… what’s his name? The other millionaire.”

Monday, February 27, 2017

A Merry Band of Losers

Octoberville

When I first visited Second Life (SL), I quickly realized that profiles were a great source of information.

I must admit I had (and have) little interest regarding the real life of a complete stranger. However, I was/am quite curious about favorite places/events in SL. I have found some of the most fascinating sims and communities simply by reading profiles.

Having said this...

Profiles are also a never-ending spring of completely barbaric nonsense. I’ll refrain from addressing the idiocy, the ignorance and the blatant childishness featured in so many (too many) of them. But one statement keeps coming up and this one in particular has always baffled me. I recently came across it once more and that triggered this rant.


*steps on the soapbox*


Only losers spend time in SL instead of being out there in the world, they say.

Virtual Reality (VR), as happens in Real Life (RL), does have its idiots and losers, granted. Yet, to say that everyone in SL is a worthless escapist, who clings on to make-believe roles of power (everyone owns something, a store, a club, a sim) and friendships or relationships is, in my opinion, going too far.

Why is it so outlandish to meet someone in a virtual world and become RL friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands or wives? Why is it more acceptable to meet someone at a bar or a birthday party in RL?

Why is building togetherness, creating common grounds, attending events and sharing life in SL being a loser? Why does this make a resident more of a loser than doing the same in RL?

Let’s take it one step at a time.


RL becomes suspended, postponed, when we immerse ourselves in a virtual world.

SL becomes so addictive that we isolated ourselves, damage our social life, and waste an infinite number of hours in completely useless interactions, they say.

That happens for some, yes, not for all. Not even in my wildest dreams, when I joined SL, did I think I’d become a moderator, a host, a store owner, an event organizer, a blogger, a bloggers’ coordinator, a neighbor, a friend, a partner, and a traveler. I've created and I've watched others being creative, admiring their exceptional imagination. All this enriched my RL.


SL is a waste of time, they say.

I suppose it could be, yes. But SL made me go back to writing (I have written three books so far, I update my blog regularly and am preparing the plot of my fourth book; I am hopeful SL will also help me to find the motivation to revise my books… I hate revising) and it allowed me to learn skills I always thought I was hopeless with (such as working with an image editing software, a skill I now use in RL often).


SL is a world of fantasy where nothing is real, they say.

True. Many create alternative life stories and reinvent themselves. However, there are also SL friends meeting face-to-face and cherishing their friendships even more, people crossing borders, continents, to build a life together, to get married, to have children, and there are people making a very real living for their very real families.


SL is an excuse to hide from RL, they say.

It might be for some, it might even be for you.

It’s not for me. SL is as much a part of my RL as going to a friend’s place for a cup of coffee, to a theater play, to the cinema, or for a walk by the sea.

And, let’s face it, those of us who are hiding are doing a pretty good job of creating environments and events for others to enjoy as part of their real lives.


What a conundrum… To be or not to be… a loser.

I can only say this much before I wrap up. How you decide to enjoy your SL is exclusively your business. However, don’t think that because you consider yourself a loser for being in SL, and not out there living the real life, the rest of us feel the same.

Be creative. Be participant. Learn. Teach. Share.

Virtual reality is taking its first steps into the future and we are part of that, yes, this merry band of losers is creating the stepping stones that will lead up to the future of virtual worlds.

*steps down from the soapbox*


Sunday, February 26, 2017

Lightning or Not

Milk Wood


“To control the uncontrollable...” Diane sighed.
Annie shook her head. “What is that suppose to mean?!”
“That thing’s stumbling out.”
“What thing?” Annie turned around and tentacles were sliding out of the show's chest.
“What is that?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Looks like an octopus.”
Suddenly, the wannabe octopus slammed the lid open and turned into a giant green lightning.
“Nice effect. Is it for the show?”
That was the last thing Diane said.
“Octopus… At least now you’re fed. I told you a million times it was not the time yet. We’ll get them all, but not yet.”
100 Word Stories
(Prompt: Pick Two - Lightning, Italics, Spain, Tofu, Fragment, Ochre, Stumble, Pad)

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Normal

Asalia House

A normal day always started with a nice cup of coffee. This wasn't a normal day.
When she picked up the cup, the stain of lipstick on the brim glared back at her, a mocking slap on the face.
The stupid ass had forgotten to clean the cup right.
She walked to the bedroom and looked around carefully. Everything was in its rightful place. Except…
An earring had rolled under the bed. Silver. A loop, how fitting.
She picked up the phone.
“Go for it.”
Two days later, he was found by the river, wearing a shiny silver loop earring.

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Lick

Venexia

Late, as always.
Her pathetic little assistant, buzzing with enthusiasm for his new job and who had the annoying habit of licking his fingers to turn every page of every report, had proven to be quite the slacker.
When she entered her office, nothing was done. Unacceptable. The problem was that the eccentric middle-aged man now owned half the company. She’d have to get rid of him, but how?
Pushing him down the stairs? Too obvious. Hiring someone to get rid of him? Too expensive.
Then, mysteriously, he became quite ill.
They say reading reports is hazardous to your health.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, February 5, 2017

Late

Sopor aEternum

They were late.
“What now?” Ron sat on a rock.
Peter kicked the grass. He was furious.
“We keep looking.”
“Where? In there?” Ron stood up.
Peter walked up to the small cabin and kicked the door open.
“They didn't take the jewel box with them. It’d be too dangerous. Look, a trap door.”
It was barely covered by some debris.
“Let’s get it and take off.”
A bright pair of green eyes stared back at them.
“Damn… Didn't they say it was a box?”
The jewel was the 10 year old heir of the biggest fortune in the country.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Blindfold

Tim's Dreams

“Wear a blindfold and follow the hordes. Blindness is liberating. Not even the venerable elders will lead us through. Don’t fight it. That growing lightness cradles a fading uncertainty, a state of alluring oblivion, of complete exemption, it will free us.”

“Turn it off. That’s depressing.”
The silence invaded the darkest corners of the room as the two friends sat side by side in front of the TV.
“Did you notice she was pregnant?”
“I don’t want to think about it.”
“Did you notice…”
“No.”
“You’re wearing your blindfold already… You’re doing what they want.”
“Just shut the hell up.”

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Bus

Dark Moon

Right by the bus stop, Roger noticed a strange flower. It seemed to have grown exponentially overnight.
He walked closer and noticed the flower was panting. Suddenly, it spat out some bones.
Roger jumped back, alarmed, hiding behind the glass of the bus stop. Those looked like fingers, he thought.
“Where’s the damn bus?”
The following morning, the reports on TV were slightly intriguing. A whole bus and a young man waiting at the bus stop had mysteriously vanished.

“I think we have finally developed it right. We are ready to take over that miserable planet. Start the count down.”

Saturday, January 21, 2017

A Shark Doesn't Always Look Like a Shark

Finlandia

I worried and worried about someone, and then...
Three words were enough.
I had a decision to make.
Should I look at those three words and take them as a heartfelt remark or should I choose not to be completely moronic and read them for their true meaning? A veiled insult buried under a layer of pseudo-venting self-pity aimed at asserting a pathetic sense of ownership, a desperate attempt to announce to the world how fleeting and unimportant something was when, in fact, it is life-changing.
The cursor blinked on my screen while I read those three words over and over again.
I was then faced with another decision. Should I leave a comment, perhaps buried under a layer of pseudo-jocular animosity or should I just close the website and ignore it?
I made my decision.
I will not worry again, but I shall not forget.
I have three words of my own.
Enough is enough.
Oh, and here are another three words.
Forget about it.
Yep. And to wrap it all up, three more.
Moving on indeed.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Party

Magical Farm


The party was scheduled for ten.
Lucia stressed over everything, the lights, the music, the food, the lights.
“What’s wrong with the lights?”
“Honey, they are crooked.”
“The lights are fine.”
She shrugged and walked away to stress over the food again.
Eleven and no one had arrived.
“Where is everyone?”
Midnight and nothing.
The next morning, Lucia received an email signed by everyone, claiming they had orchestrated that revenge for some obscure reason she couldn't understand.
She didn't care. She was still fixated on the crooked lights.
“The lights were fine!” yelled Peter from the kitchen, reading her mind.

Sunday, January 8, 2017

Fun

Magical Farm


Her last wish was to have the room filled with balloons.
While she was sleeping, they brought them in.
The look on her face when she woke up was extraordinary.
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement, mesmerized by the soft swaying of a multitude of colors.
Suddenly, she reached for the cord of one of the balloons and frowned.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“Mommy, we must free them now. They won’t be happy locked in here.”
So, they opened the window and, one by one, the balloons were set free, as was her young tired heart later that night.

Monday, January 2, 2017

2016 in a Nutshell

Home


Being willing to experiment is, in my opinion, one of the most important aspects of being a writer. I have tried my hand at several different genres and, as a result, I found myself dabbling with erotica. We'll see what happens.

Finally, I was rather surprised, not to say shocked, when I realized the total number of words written in 2016 (most of them unpublished) was a whooping 457857.

More in 2017.



"Study the past, if you would divine the future."

Confucius

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Key

Milk Wood

The key to a delightfully horrid celebration is to get that special treat from the freezer and display it in the lounge at work.
At some point, his colleagues asked why the room was so cold.
All he did was point. And there it was.
“Is that… a real arm?” someone asked, disgusted.
He nodded enthusiastically, adding that he had chopped it off himself. And how he managed to work that middle finger into a perfect position!
But there was no time to brag.
“Happy New Year and all that,” he managed to yell as he escaped through the back-door.