250 Words: The Acephalous Rider

Her hitched-up and ripped ballgown flowing behind, she thundered through the open gates, not daring to look back, hoping against hope she would not be followed.

Pushing her horse on through forests and fields, her immaculate hair fell slowly apart and itself took flight.  Her only thought was to keep on taking routes randomly while ultimately heading east, for the border. 

Her closest servants were to thank for this chance.  Feeling she was too innocent to face the mob’s blade they ushered her away from the party (slapping her into sense when she initially refused) and helped her onto a horse (ripping her dress and changing her shoes) before ensuring a clear path to the gate. 


She first heard them behind as her ride began to tire.  Louder and louder their galloping grew as hers lessened.  She looked out for a new route or solution but she’d taken a road that would only let her go straight on, swamps blocked all other directions but back.

As they drew up alongside she cursed the effects of the afternoon’s hunt before the sword swung and removed her head.

They stopped her horse, fixed the headless body in its seat and hung the head from her steed’s bit rings before thwacking its behind and sending them on toward her goal.


Now every night on that same stretch of road, each lost and lonely little toad will see her form once again in full flight, her complexion now and ever a bright ghostly white. 

250 Words: Strutting Simon

“Actions speak louder than words,” his father had advised when he became a teenager and asked about ways to impress girls.  And so the teen-boy developed a strut and a swagger as he tried to set himself out from the other boys parading the school corridors. 

It worked for a time, girls noticing this confidence in him and pausing by his locker to speak with him.  There were hands held, kisses between classes, kisses at the back of buses and cinemas.  He became a sort of a stud in these early glory years.  Nothing lasted but he didn’t mind at that point at all. 

As time wore on he did want more, though, as the girls quickly became women but he remained a boy, a preening peacock they grew sick of.

School discos and corridors gave way to pubs and clubs and he took his gait into town on a Friday night but no one took any notice so he took solace in drinking and dancing.  He tried to turn the latter into a new swagger, to match that of earlier days, but his discotheque coquetry got him nowhere.  He tried to turn his father’s advice on its head but the slaps showed his talk was worse than his walk.

Over the years he tried different tactics, slowly honing his vocabulary and sharpening his interpersonal skills- until the swagger disappeared and he became more like the person he’d been before he became a peacock, eventually finding someone to be with.

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See also: ≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 14, from whence this was expanded.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 32

If an aubade is morning music and I get woken each day by a shrill alarm, then I don't like aubades.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 31

"Always the quiet ones and she was the most taciturn child I ever taught. Look at her now-I'm sure now she was plotting to be PM back then."

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 30

"I'm in one heck of a swivet over this," the US President said to his First Lady, "Damn Commie kids outside. Where's their respect?"

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 29

The zeitgeists hover over us, each playing their hands and waiting for history to pick the one that stays.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 28

He said, "I have returned from perdition to bring it to you up here in the sun.  Tell all that hell is coming: after me comes the flood."

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 27

The worst sort of kibosh is that atop a beer bottle when you don't have an opener. Horrible cuts or no beer? No contest. Open sensibly.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 26

It was at the billabong that Wilbert the Wallaroo became aware of Wilma. Her reflected eyes met his on the water and the rest is history.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 25

In the dispatch of his victims he was very diligent because he loved his work and wanted to continue it. He was not ready to be caught yet.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 24

And Mercury shall return, and he shall emblazon the sky, ridding us of the Dark Warrior's Land of Shadows and restoring the sun.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 23

"The crux of the matter is quite simple," he told the comic bookstore kid, "Spiderman is a whiny angst-douche."

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 22

Various things have been said about my nose over the years.  I'm liking salient now - tis a Salient Nose!

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 21

The way the hills swooped reminded him of the battle salient and the landscape before him transformed into the jaws of hell he had known.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 20

The way the hills swooped on the map reminded her of the battle salient and she said a quick prayer for all those who were lost.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 19

The Bridge Troll's strategem was sound and good. It's just that the Billy Goat Gruff's was much better.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 18

The Dark Warrior's Triangle of Darkness strategem was flawless. Endless troops hot from the Underearth gave him invincibility in numbers.

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Note: I stole the Triangle of Darkness idea from the Second World War- more specifically from an IWM Interview that I catalogued (see Content Description).

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 17

Another fascicle finished, the Eternal Scribe sighed deeply and picked up a new book. It was a thankless task recording all of history.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 14

His coquetry on the dancefloor had got him nowhere. But what else could he do? The slaps told him his talk was worse than his walk.

≤140 Characters, or Tweet Repeat: 12

He moved to the Placid Plateau after the war and spent his days looking down and out.  Always watching, he'd had enough of taking part.