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Challenge week 13:
December 12th 2011
Photo prompt: pink piggy jeep Phrase prompt: ducks in a row Judge’s prompt: were-moose
“To the SWINE!” I called to Ralph. The terrain was rough and though Ralph could take care of himself I took it upon myself to make sure he made it safely beyond the swamp and as far away from his mother as possible.
The boars were gathered where I last saw them and I was happy that Pinky was among them, she wasn’t happy that most of her hair was gone from the last time the villagers decided to burn down her home. It’s how she got her nickname for her exposed pink scars.
I climbed atop her and clung on to her bared tusks for support while I steered her the way through the swamp with Ralph following behind.
“Just have to get our ducks in a row so that you’ll never have to go back Ralph.”
He remained silent aside from a grunt.
The moon was almost in position and we weren’t nearly ready for it. I tickled Pinky’s chin hairs to make sure she understood the gravity of the situation. Her hind legs pushed forward with more force and the mud kicked up from the ground.
But it was too late.
Ralph was now a were-moose.
199 words
Challenge week 10:
Novemeber 21st 2011
Photo: Crushed trash can, Phrase: The difference between, include: astral projection
My body felt like a vessel I wasn’t a part of any longer as I watched the words cascade from Trent’s mouth like a thrown up trash can. It was difficult enough that I had to sit here listening to his reasoning for dumping me but I couldn’t seem to say anything else other than, “I appreciate your honesty,” as I clung to the white linen napkin at my lap like the towel in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. It was a magic napkin that could hopefully block the laser beams of insults as he waved his hands around the air saying, “I don’t have the emotional capacity to handle whatever this is.” Apparently I was the one with too much drama on my plate for him but the difference between us is that I knew that as soon as I could gain movement back in my limbs he would find out just how much drama a simple napkin could cause.
161 words
Challenge week 9 :
November 14th 2011
photo: playground swing witha bite out of it, phrase: “the eye of a”, prompt: include Sherlock Holmes
The stories were true and it was going to catch up with it. After all my birthday wish was to be Sherlock Holmes and he always caught the bad guys. The seat of the park swing had a chunk bitten off the side and I knew the creature was hungry.
Do I go into the eye of a canopied forest where the tracks lead? Or do I go to the picnic table to investigate more clues? What clues would be at a picnic table? I marched into the forest following the broken twigs. The tracks were fresh.
I could hear the howl of the beastly monster. A large reptile emerged from the forest pond. Its claws were sharp, multiple rows of razor teeth and huge filmy eyes. As it moved closer I could see the slime dripping from its scaled skin and it was then that I discovered… I didn’t want to be Sherlock any longer.
I ran back to the picnic table and noticed a banquet.
Just one bite.
My wish came true.
I looked at my hands and flexed the webbed muscles and extended my claws. The monster had eaten from this table and now so have I…
200words
Challenge 5 WINNER!
October 17th 2011
photo: flooded city , phrase: “Nothing Left to”, prompt: title starting with X
Xanadu- Ode to Breathe
Like rust beneath the surface of a drowning city I knew exactly what I wanted to do for my remaining days. If ever a piece of iron could be living it was when water and air corrode it. Only then is it more than just metal; it breathes. I am just a robot in the monotonous routine of the world just waiting to live. It’s unfortunately that only when we are dying do we truly start to expand and fill our iron lungs with air. Protecting myself from the elements is what preserves my embalmed body but I am not afraid of oxygen anymore.
There is nothing left to indulge in but to risk my existence to another.
“When I met you my world stopped, for just a moment. When our eyes met I knew that I was no longer numb to the world. No longer blinded by the incoherent goals of my days I know now. Will you drown with me? In the ocean of our love?”
Will you drown with me?
You make me breathe.
I am alive.
184 words
D. Ryan ( @DRyanLeask ) judgemaster says: Wow! What a cool way to look at things and to bring a Robot to life! I love the way that you looked at how iron rusts and deteriorates as a form of life and delved into that in only 200 words. Gave me a real sense of feeling for your character.
October 10th 2011
photo: pants over chair, phrase: “about last night”, prompt: Dorian Mode
The fog is thick and wets my face like a drenched veil. I can smell the dew drops on the surrounding plants, fresh and cool. My body lies shivering in the brush. Leaves caught in my short black hair, dirt stuck to my sticky skin, and my hands clutching a pair of scattered jeans. With what strength is left I pull the blue cotton on both legs at a time then jump to my feet.
“We’ll find him!” A man’s voice hollers out with the Dorian mode howls of incoming search dogs.
I may know nothing about last night and what I’m doing out in the middle of the woods but something tells me I don’t want to be caught by them. My bare feet trample through the twigs and pinecones wincing at the new and uncomfortable sensations.
I fall.
Trip more like it. When I look at where I’ve fallen I hold my breath.
The woman beneath me flutters her eyes. Golden starbursts in the morning sun eyes stare back up at me with soft chestnut hair billowing out behind her.
“Until the next full moon.” She smiles.
189 words
October 3rd 2011
photo: cemetary action, phrase: “last call”, prompt: greek gods
Being proved right never felt so horrible. Year after year I would tell my doctor that my anxiety really isn’t neurotic but justified because I am the last of the line of moon princesses on Earth. How I came about this knowledge didn’t really help any because all I had were visions and dreams of someone chasing me.
“Where is the stone Princess?” A man with long black cup of coffee hair leans in. He was definitely a sugar free personality by the seriousness in his tone.
I shuffled through my purse for my medication. The anxiety building within me was causing my stomach to churn with enough acid to bust another hole through my gut. This was not the time to be having an internal attack like an eagle at Prometheus’s liver when someone right in front of me was more than willing to do the job himself.
“I don’t know anything.” I popped a tums in my mouth and cringed at the chalky flavor. I’ll never get used to that texture.
“Last call Princess before this tomb stone is the only thing left of you.”
My heart pounds and a heat sears through my body.
“Being right sucks.”
200 words
September 26th 2011
photo: speed dating, phrase: “follow the scent”, prompt: David Gilmour
Going to a bar is hard these days ladies, it’s only a matter of time before some drunk person waddles over like a one winged bat to suck the life out of your party. So follow these rules and you should be alright on your next outing. First bring a friend with you this way you eliminate the chance that a lone soldier will come over to distract from your Peach Schnapps combo. Then only the guys with wingmen will be potential animals determining which meat they want to eat like you’re on a speed dating service with a ringer to scope out the baddies from the goodies. Follow the scent of beer to determine if your man’s head is even in the building; don’t need to get involved with the next David Gilmour with eight kids in the wagon aiming for number nine. Remember keep the consumption down enough that he can still say his name without slurring. Those Italian shoes you bought last month won’t hold against the onslaught of a purging beast. Happy hunting ladies.
178 words
September 18th 2011
photo: speedometer, phrase: “raise the stakes”, prompt: uxorious
I was flipping through the dictionary one day and came across a word I’ll never forget. A fondness fills my heart every time I hear it vibrate in my ears, ‘uxorious.’
Now I know what you’re thinking, why would having a whipped husband make my eyes swell up with unexpected joy?
I’ll tell you my pretties.
Because every day I imagine running leather boots up my thigh and having it contour to my body like a second skin. Pressing my firm heel into his chest until it’s imprinted into his flesh. It would be a refreshing change of pace to go more than 40 mph in the bedroom traversing the same roads we’ve before.
“Honey…” His voice quakes with what I can only assume is ecstasy as I pour the scented candle wax on his neck letting it drip down and harden.
“Enough talk dear. We’ve played your way for long enough.” I smile deviously as I thumb the chains within my hands. Their cold and send my heart racing. It’s like power in a link.
“I never should’ve…” He begins before I place the gag in his mouth.
“Raise the stakes and married a red-headed librarian.” I finish.
199 words
