• 08:00:28 am on June 26, 2012 | 20
    Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

    Tuesday Tales 46!

    Challenge #46

     By entering, every contestant agrees to shamelessly promote and praise the winner on twitter.

    For all discussions about this challenge use hash tag #TuesdayTales

    Please give a shout out to this week’s Tuesdaytales judge:


    Jeffery Hollar

    Poet, father, husband and Klingon/Ferengi hybrid mix. Voracious reader (been at it for 45 years) and writer of paranormal satire.

    Our judge is challenging us this week with the

    Secret Word:



    google search


    Go ahead and check out the archive of all the tuesdaytales or escort you to your tuesdaytales needs HERE



  • Robin Abess 2:58 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    A sea of golden blooms lay before me. I took off the spectacles I’d been given and polished them. The world around me blurred, but through the glass, everything was clear. My distinguished guide waited patiently, wings fluttering too fast to see as he hovered there. Taking a deep breath, I nodded to him and put the glasses back on. The colors of this world were almost too bright to bear. I followed the being closely through the field and suddenly a massive tree loomed before me. Tentatively, I reached out and touched the sun-warmed bark. The Way was open.

    100 words

  • Wakefield Mahon 3:55 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    I pulled out my glasses as I waded into the ocean of bright yellow flowers. I hardly bothered with the confounded things anymore, preferring to leave the misery of the dreary concrete and asphalt out of focus, pretending it was only an unpleasant dream. The flowers weren’t there before and I wondered if dandelions had taken over. While cleaning the lenses I distinguished the difference. Amongst the tulips and buttercups were, in fact dandelions. I placed my glasses on and knelt to pick and examine one. A red trickle came from the “ground”, the sky darkened, I saw the teeth.
    100 words

  • A.D. Duling 3:57 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    Not everyone is blessed with twenty- twenty vision and that isn’t bad. Sometimes when I take off my glasses, the blurry world is a work of art to me. Objects and colors blur, making a masterpiece; sometimes a better sight than the clear one. Sometimes what is pretty looks better blurred. You know, those beautiful people who are ugly inside. They make me want to take off my glasses and there…better. Now about the hearing… I see tiny tulips in my lenses as I finish my wiping. I put my glasses on. Yes… even the distinguished are better blurred.

    100 words

  • LupusAnthropos 5:19 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    “It’s all done, boss.”

    “It’s all done, Vinnie? What’s done?”

    “We had Mario whacked, just like you told us to.”

    “WHAT? Mario’s my best friend! He’s our closest ally! What’d you go and do a thing like that for?”

    “Well, that’s what you told us to do. You said all of us should do something very special for Mario and that he had to be extinguished, so we took care of him for you.”

    “EXtinguished? EXtinguished? Mario brought in thirty million dollars, last month. We couldn’t have done it without him. I said he should be DIStinguished, you moron, DIStinguished!”

    100 Words

    • Robin Abess 7:29 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

      That. Is. Awesome.

    • Jessa Russo 10:46 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

      Best flash fiction piece ever.

  • michelawalters 5:28 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    His bright gold glasses weren’t the only thing that distinguished ‘Pa Joe from others at the Oakwood Nursing Home. His youthful spirit and still agile reflexes were tools he used to cheer up the other patients who were frailer than he was. His love of bluegrass and blonde busty nurses were also widely known throughout the center. The day he broke his hip twirling the young candy striper was the beginning of the end for Joe. His inner-light dimmed after that and even his favorite nurse’s flirtations couldn’t bring back his joy. Movement was his life, without it, he withered.
    100 words

  • Nellie 6:06 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    The coke bottle lenses were so thick, the clarity of the wildflowers was crisp and clean. Everything else was a blur, colors muted. The surgery was supposed to make everything look like the flowers in the glasses. With some work, they said. It took time for the eyes to heal after all, but everything would be the same.

    Bennie laid back on the glass. He was told that he would be distinguished without those magnifying lenses on his face. He was told that he would look professional. The glasses didn’t make him that way, he made himself that way.

    99 words

  • Lisa McCourt Hollar 6:12 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    By Lisa McCourt Hollar

    She thought he looked distinguished. I saw him for what he really was; a predator. He promised to take her away from here… away from me, like I was the monster. He said I couldn’t keep her from leaving; she was going to be famous.

    I warned him, Franny’s my daughter; no one was taking her away. He laughed…called me an old man. Well, I may be old, but I keep my promises. They never did find her body, just her sunglasses where they fell among the flowers and a lot of blood…in Mr. Hollywood trunk.

    Now he’s famous too.

    Word Count: 100

    • Robin Abess 7:31 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

      Nice! Shivery tale.

  • Maureen (@Emyrldlady) 6:15 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    He never had a chance. Where once there were mobs of swooning women and envious men, now there were impersonators and mockery. He’d fought his demons and lost, and so did we.

    On sultry summer nights I’ll take out the old 45’s and play them on my rickety portable record player out at the beach house, dancing alone in the sand. I’ll remember being young and in love as I twist and jive breathlessly till I fall laughing.

    There were awards and accolades for a distinguished career. But now all that’s left are memories and a pair of silver sunglasses.


  • RR Kovar 7:18 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply


    “Put on the glasses,” Kendra pleaded.

    I knew what would happen, had heard others speak with wonder of the world made new. They could see it all, each blade of grass distinguished from the next, the flowers ablaze with color.

    “I can’t.” It was a prayer for understanding she could not grant.

    “Why don’t you want beauty?”

    My calloused hand stroked her once-soft skin. “I see it every day, love, even now.”

    “I won’t suffer anymore.” She donned her specs and left me behind.

    Resigned, I surveyed the barren landscape and wondered why I’d been chosen to keep the Truth.

    100 words

    • Robin Abess 7:32 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply


  • Dawn 8:12 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    Later, An Aspirin

    When he wore them, he looked distinguished, like a professor, like he should have been carrying a big sheaf of test papers or a manuscript. He was supposed to wear them all the time – doctor’s orders – but he only remembered when he was driving or watching TV, and in the garden when he needed to keep the pollen out of his eyes.

    I don’t look distinguished. And I feel a little cross-eyed. But the pollen floats from the flowers on the grave, and the plastic still smells a little like him, which makes the headache worth it.

    97 words (100 including title)

  • JonathonVolkmer 8:30 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    Here’s the fixed one:

    Wordsworth said it best, I think.

    “I wandered lonely as a cloud,”

    Time stoops us with the weight of custom, of habit: of itself.

    “When all at once I saw a crowd.”

    The glory of sunrise becomes the common light of day.

    “Continuous as the stars that shine,”

    A boy trades youthful freedom for distinguished drudgery.

    “They stretched in never-ending line.”

    Life stretches on. The years get so heavy.

    “I gazed – and gazed – but little thought,”

    He gets tired of life – of living.

    “What wealth the show to me had brought.”

    But I remember. I remember dancing with the daffodils.

    Still 100 words. Sorry!

  • Sheilagh Lee 9:59 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    A distinguished gentleman, white hair at his temples, a neat white moustache and beard walked in the room. He appeared similar to Santa Claus, but he was the killer of Bay Street. He had taken a gun to his workplace mowing down everyone in sight. Women, men and even children did not escape his wrath. The doctor’s had tried to convince the jury that he was crazy, but they had not been swayed. His execution was today and his victim’s families had come to view his demise, however in this room they found no peace. Only sorrow at life lost.
    100 words

  • Miranda kate (@PurpleQueenNL) 10:30 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    He looked the distinguished gentleman in his new polarized sunglasses and they brought him a lot of attention. The bright sun gave him the best excuse to wear them and the girls flocked round him like the yellow flowers surrounding the country fair.

    But they didn’t know what he saw when he looked through them; how the sunglasses exposed the truth behind their souls.

    He tried not to physically recoil from the withered and twisted forms the bitter ones took, but instead turned to the few that glowed and stood tall, like poppies amongst the weeds.

    96 Words

  • Cara Michaels 10:45 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    The beauty of the world could be distinguished through the aged specs. The clear plastic frames looked like late 70s Bill Gates, but through them the blur of the world exploded in crisp, perfect lines and colors I hadn’t seen since the wars. A flowered field stretched out before me in endless clarity.

    Bitter tears stung.

    I looked carefully to the scavenger next to me, not daring to let hope show.

    “How much?” I asked casually.

    “The little one.”

    I looked to my youngest and memorized her face as I’d never seen it.

    “Deal,” I said.

    “Pleasure doing business, ma’am.”

    100 words

  • Jeffrey Hollar 11:38 pm on June 26, 2012 | # | Reply

    Never Again

    They dragged the young family from his cellar and shot them, saving him for last. There would be no bullet for him. As they tightened the rope about his neck, he felt no fear, only sadness and confusion.

    Could they truly intend to destroy entire races, religions, ethnicities for no crime greater than that of being who they had been born?

    He stood as straight and dignified as his years allowed. Removing his glasses, he saw the world around him grow blurry and lose all focus. It seemed a fitting metaphor for the reality of what his homeland was becoming.

    100 totally ineligible words @klingorengi

  • TuesdayTales 46 WINNER – June 26th 2012 « GLITTERWORD 3:55 pm on June 27, 2012 | # | Reply

    […] You can check out all the rest of the entries of Tuesdaytales week 46 HERE […]

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