Sunday photo fic, albeit I’m dangerously close to Tuesday. I given up a trying to do all the flash fics I think of on the day I think of them. I’ve been working to hard in all areas; not just my writing. Now I’m hitting the overload wall. Anywho, I introduce Eric the ghost hunter. I had to edit this a few times – The first draft made him sound so… Perverted.
One person’s heaven.
This jobs a bust, Eric decided, as he stroked the ears of his tranquil collie. Simpletons! Point at an old building and the chances are 5:1 that some fool will say it’s haunted. Eric shot a moody glance at the fireplace; a log had just crackled naturally. I bet that tree grew straight and pure! At least give me some gnarly old wood grown over a forgotten grave! Eric was irked.
The house had the right atmosphere, damn it. The wiring out-dated; the heating pre-war. Disrepair had touched every surface. Without the grace of the supernatural these were but… Idiosyncrasies! Peaceful, and utterly boring, Eric sighed. He missed finding his keys in odd places. The titillation of strange shadows, the rush of an unseen presence. Eric found no excitement here; all he found was a brief holiday in hell.
Today’s second challenge prompt is borrowed from Sunday Photo Fiction. This piece is actually flash fiction but given I saw the prompt and could not stop thinking about a ‘Sailor Moon’ episode I saw when I was a preteen I’m no longer sure whether to categorize it as fan-fiction or flash fiction with a pop culture reference. Either way I tried to make it funny.
John braced himself as cruise ship rolled with the waves. Sure enough, Tamara pin-wheeled backwards into his arms. The impact drove an unladylike belch from her slight frame. Geh, alcohol breath. “’scuse.” Then she was off again, mojito in hand, making a bee-line for the stage. John hurried after her, cursing, not again.
Too late! Tamara had already snatched the mic from bemused entertainers, filling the room with her off-key, static-filled singing. “FightING EVIL ‘cup Moonlight, FINDing luuv ‘cup ‘aylight, EVER ‘running ‘cup eel fright, she ‘cup Sailor Spooon!” At this point John managed to wrestle the mic her grip, only to have her throw her arms around his neck, dragging him to the floor. “’Uxedooo ‘Ask!!!”
It was then an icy voice breathed in his ear, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to escort the Lady back to her suit.” The chill crept straight to the base of his spine. He threw the drunkard over his shoulder and vowed to never take her drinking again.
Now switching from horror fic for Pic it and write to this action thriller for Sunday Photo fiction. The rather royal looking raven in the picture is Thor, one of the many ravens of the tower of London.
Emmett stroked the glossy feathers of the crow perched on his shoulder. He felt the sharp beak gently nip his ears. The pair watched the crowds of the theme park patiently, waiting for the moment to strike. Their tension was palatable as a laughing child shrieked her way towards the field separating the rides of the park. The raven croaked as the mother scooped the child up and pointed with annoyed tones towards a sign: ‘Please keep off the grass.’ “Hush,” Emmett murmured, soothing ruffled feathers, “Soon, Dearest.”
The pair waited, watchful and silent. The crowds shifted; the families of the daytime were replaced by inebriated youngsters. Soon a large group stumbled drunkenly across the grass. Disturbed by their footfalls, the earth erupted open, revealing the gigantic arachnid underneath. The raven sprung from Emmett’s side, morphing and shifting as he fell upon his prey. Emmett watched on, eyes following the black blur as it fought the spider; undeceived by the fluid shift from humanoid to avian. Then, as the creature launched a final, desperate attack, Emmett pierced it through the Cephalothorax with a well placed round. Deed done, the raven settled back on Emmett shoulder with an affectionate nip.
This one is for Sunday Photo Fiction. Reductionism is not good, but ocassionally it can be fun. 😉
“God, this place is boring.”
“Go occupy yourself, child, I’m busy creating Earth.”
The anglel pouted. God wasn’t finished with heaven yet. Everyday was the same. God hadn’t given it feeling yet. He glared down at the tiny beings on the newly created world. What was so good about them? Angels where so much finer, they deserved the attention! And, damn it, he would not be ignored!
Lucifer decided it was time to shake up heaven.
This one is for Sunday photo fiction. Mild social comment on my part, heh.
The aged curator shuffled about the museum exhibits, leading the tour group with shaky monotone repetition of information. Banefully, he eyed a young couple, giving a disapproving harrumph at the girl’s shrill, incessant giggle. The young girl was pointed a little too excitedly at an ancient piece of space-tech. She made a passing remark to her male companion about ancestral technology that made the curator frown. The curator was not alone in this; his expression mirrored on the little-too symmetrical face of the young man. The reason became very clear when the apparent teen responded with ‘Don’t compare me to that pathetic technology.” To this the girl pouted and pulled her android companion into a wilful embrace. The android flirtatiously tickled the girl in response, causing peels of laughter to reverberate about the large hall, causing annoyed stares all around. Ilshrine shot the pair a reproachful look and made a loud shushing sound, before returning to his duties was a shake of his head. There was one thing Ilshrine knew for certain. Teens still had an unhealthy obsession with technology.
This piece of flash fiction has been written for Sunday photo fiction – another visual prompt writing challenge. I feel it came out sounding very aussie, if I do say so myself. For those who haven’t heard of a Darwin Award, this award is usually received by those whose actions serve to remove them from the gene pool. We shouldn’t mock really. Jason and the Darwin Awards episode list.
Monsoon season had hit. Nationwide flood waters were on the rise. Reports of community flooding were pouring in and the emergency services were pinched to relocate citizens quickly enough. Amongst all this panic there were still groups who who took advantage of the rising flood waters. Fishermen could be seen driving their boats up high streets, and children paddling in the shallows. It was only natural that the teens would be out playing silly buggers in the flood waters. Jason and his mates were taking full advantage of waterfall created by a small depression on the hill top by challenging each other to shoot further down the broiling streets. It was chicken with boogie boards, and Jason was determined to win. With cockiness born of ignorant youth, he jumped on the board and let ‘er rip down the increasingly turbulent rapids. Jason careened down the streets, excited laughter trailing behind him, unaware of the danger he was in. The water was becoming incredibly rough, Jason other managed to steer the boar by the skin of his teeth. Panicking, he lunged out to catch a tree branch and this was not a moment too soon as he narrowly missed drowning in a storm drain. With that went his chance to win a Darwin award.