100 Words: Bug Tussles

The epic fight ended with the spider winning.  As a child, John (then, Little Johnny) had marvelled at such scenes, spending hours in the garden watching spiders gather and wrap trapped flies and bees; even capturing and trapping them on the web himself, gaining the occasional sting.

Now, grown and running a warehouse of boredom, he watched the spiders in his office and prayed they’d consume him. 

Perhaps they already had.  Or his soul at least. 

Last week he’d sent out an unusual salted meat to an abandoned location.

Until then he had felt like a fly in the organisation. 

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Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt:

 

 PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

The last three stories I've written for Friday Fictioneers, I've other blogged too late: click the pictures below to see the stories... I cheated a bit with one, had too many ideas:

  

An InLinkz Link-up

100 Words: Green flashes amongst the grey (Ideas 1 & 2)

Green flashes amongst the grey raise my head and my spirits.  I smile, my heart lifting a little, as I continue onward towards my wife’s grave.

I pause briefly, standing tall over her headstone, as I once did her own head, thinking of how I would look down into her beautiful eyes, before crouching to lay flowers.  Then I sit and talk, tell her about my week, about work, our families and friends; drinking tea together, often the precursor and underlay of our conversations. 

Then I leave, looking out again for the parakeets.

Next week I’ll tell her about her.


**

Green flashes amongst the grey raised my head and my spirits.  I stopped, smiling up at the bright invaders of an often grisly space.  I’d always liked it, though, hence why I always walked through it, even though doing so lengthened most journeys.

Looking down again I noticed the door to the chapel was open.  A man and a woman, each in Victorian dress, stood in the doorway beckoning me forth.

Only once inside did I notice the cold; and realise I didn’t know how I’d got there.

I’d been downtown... 

A man stepped forward and asked me my plans. 

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Written for the Light and Shade Challenge from the following picture prompt:

 

Image courtesy of Wikipedia Commons, taken by David Berkowitz and used under the Creative Commons Agreement
 

100 Words: Fifteen to One

He always chimes in just before me; it’s so annoying.  As I go to answer, every time, he chips in first and takes the points. 

His reactions and thinking times (are they one and the same for him?) are too quick while mine are too dull.  I frustrated, I take it out on the buzzer, pressing ever harder.  And still too late.

Doomed from the start, though I wasn’t to know, I can only watch as my opponent creeps ever further ahead with answers I know but cannot remember quickly enough.

I started with a hope that’s quickly faded away.

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Written for 100 Word Challenge #407 on Velvet Verbosity; the prompt was the word Chimes.

 Additionally, I wrote a story for Challenge #404 but did not blog it in time to link it up.

100 Words: Underminers

“The woods were destroying the house, sir, pushing the walls both up and out- that’s why the beams are there.  We aren't welcome here but we adapt and survive as best we can.”

They had their reason to be there.  It kept them, and the fight back, going strong.  The hearts of every other forest and wood had already been taken, the trees stopped.  This one, though, was proving trickier to defeat.

“But we are almost there, sir.  Our current shaft, though constantly under attack from roots, is even now burrowing up under the head tree.  It'll soon be over.”

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Written for the Light and Shade Challenge from the following picture prompt:

 

 Image courtesy of Wikipedia Commons, taken by Johann H. Addicks - addicks@gmx.net used under the Creative Commons Agreement

Note: Earlier rejected titles: The woods fought back and There will be sap

100 Words: Last Stop

This is the only place before the Dales, we have no choice.

What else can we do? The car’s broken down.

No, it’s way beyond my experience.

Hello!  Anyone here?

Get back in the car, please.

What?  There’s nothing to worry about.

Creepy?  Hardly. 

Rust doesn’t mean a thing.

Nor that pile of junk.

Don’t worry, I’m sure people come here all the time, it’s just Sunday slow right now.

No, not Sunday dead, because they are murderers.

Well don't, “Just say.”  Look, here’s someone now.  Hello there, how are- Judy, he's-

Run, just bloody run, don’t look back; RUN!!!

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Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt:

 

 PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Claire Fuller

 

100 Words: I shall marry a shapeshifter

Sardonically they told me that she had really gotten her claws into me now. 

If only they knew.

All they see is her gruff, shifty, exterior born from her concern of turning in public.  

They have never seen her softer side, the side I see at home, that made me fall for her. 

That’s why I let their feelings wash over me.  That, and this secret held between us.

It’s hard to date a shapeshifter who hasn’t full control; to be woken up by scratches. 

It is harder to be her, though, make no mistake.  Harder to be the one.

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Written for 100 Word Challenge #404 on Velvet Verbosity; the prompt was the word Claws.

100 Words: The magic of the library

Take a detour past the sleeping cyclist and enter the modern library.  It’s built on the same foundations as the old, and retains its vaults.  New and unassuming on the outside, it’s a cavern of wonders underneath.

But only whispers and rumours I know.  I was there as a work experience student but was not one of the lucky ones.  Another is still there, smug in his magical admin work. 

Every week I attempt a new ruse to admit myself.  Posing as a magical folk, a new way to sneak.  But I will never succeed, such places aren’t for me.

*

Take a detour past the sleeping cyclist and enter the modern library.  It’s built on the same foundations as the old one and retains its vaults.  New and unassuming on the outside, it’s a cavern of wonders underneath.

It was here, as a work experience student, I first entered the secret world of wizards that exists alongside ours.  In Europe, the Middle East and Asia (the Old World) these places are often either far grander or embedded within ancient hills.  Over here they are now often hidden below modern buildings. 

It’s here that magical wonders are created; and catastrophes avoided.

*

“Take a detour past the sleeping cyclist to the modern library,” I was told.  “For it’s built on the foundations of the old one, retaining its cellars and vaults.  New and unassuming from here, it contains a cavern of wonders underneath.”

So I was told. 

I never got that far. 

The chap on the desk misunderstood when I asked him how to locate the magic of the library.  “Well, for me,” he began, “It’s in fiction under ‘P;’” before proceeding to lead me there.

Minutes later I was leaving with Gormenghast tucked under my arm. 

I’ve never looked back.

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Note: A bit of cheating this week through writing three similar stories as ideas evolved in my mind.  The last, though partially inspired by my own love of Gormenghast, was inspired Love Letter to Libraries: Chris Riddell on the Guardian Website.

Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt:

 

Copyright – Randy Mazie