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Weekly Contest #375
“There was a tavern and inn less than a click behind us. I’ve warned you before, you need your rest!”, Princess Alalea spoke to Derargs’ hulking, fur-covered form. He continued to stomp through the heavy, thick, wet snowfall that had dumped enough to cover even his rhinaplast boots that he stole from a tower guardsman long before he became a ghost-sitter/possible world-savior. For not the upteenth hundredth time, he nodded, the horns on his padded war-helm vibrating his miserable agreement. He knew the spirited (in more than one way recently...
Weekly Contest #373
“I'm a little busy right now, your majestic graciousness!” Derarg shouted through his teeth, swinging his nicked broadsword through another blood-slick mound of orc flesh. Again. The iridescent, sepia toned, non-corporeal form of Princess Abalea hovered nearby. None of the shed flesh, inner parts and black blood appeared to soil her restored gown. Standing in front of the few remaining columns of the royal castle where Derarg rescued her, she offered well-meaning advice. “I am only suggesting that if you butchered the orcs coming up behind y...
Weekly Contest #372
“Dr. Matten? Are you still there?” I couldn't help myself, I smacked the cheap microphone on the desk, pretending it did any good. I jumped when the image of the pudgy, balding man in the stereotypical lab coat blinked on the laptop screen. His glasses low on his thick nose, attempting to look very disgusted or showing contempt for whoever was on the other side of his screen. “Of course I am. Where ELSE am I supposed to be on a Saturday evening at this time?” I really hated that egg-head. Most egg-heads actually. Part of me wishes they were ...
Weekly Contest #371
The words fell out of Lester’s mouth without any translation app to help him. Maybe some branch of ancient Latin, maybe a made-up Greek, maybe something that burned up in the Library of Alexandria that….what’s his name made up. Lester’s gloved hand moved up and down over the rusted chain guarding the gates that reflected the reflected light of the semi-bright moon. The rides, wheels, games beckoned, shining, beyond the chain link fence. By now, he knew the motions he was to make while the mystery words fell out of his mouth. Just like many, ...
Weekly Contest #368
“Uncle Thobias? Do you mind if I could ask you a question? It’s kinda personal.” The three-lens glasses drooped down over my snout, hearing Mellindias’ innocent enough question. The child was only expressing her curiosity, the gods know that he she desperately needs encouragement in the field of learning and education. She couldn’t help it due to her background. Thobias Manfred turned in his great chair, his tail curling up into his lap, three-toed claws placed in his lap, offering a seat to the poor handicapped child. When he offered a paw,...
Weekly Contest #366
“I can’t believe that child has the nerve to be so underdressed this time of year! As if he can’t feel that cold wind coming in from the ocean. Here I am, in a wool sweater and a coat like a decent, normal human woman and that young man hasn’t anything more than a flannel shirt and…oh…disgraceful…jeans on. I hope that his parents don’t catch the chill that he’ll be returning home with soon. Well, time I was heading back. Macy and Mitzi will be letting me know I was late for din-din. Bless their furry little selves. At least they can stay war...
Weekly Contest #362
**** Lydia turned the lid, the steam from the pot enveloping her senses. The roasted chicken actually smelled good, despite the lack of spices other than pre-ground pepper and barely any salt. No butter on the small potatoes, nor on the rice. She placed the plate on the table in front of her usual seat at the large dining room table. Sliding the chair up to the edge of the table, she took for granted the loud echo the room made. The house wasn’t a mansion exactly, it was fairly large. Larger than the one room, mouse infested rental she grew ...
Weekly Contest #272
“And now, let us pray….” With those words and Father Warren Larson’s upraised hands, the gathered faithful and not-so-much or those putting on a show for the gossips closed their eyes and dropped their heads. He began the familiar liturgy from the time before he came to the Church of the Lord here in Hugo. He spoke the words that could mean something more than simple comfort to those that needed it worse than him. The widowed, the infirmed sick, the nearly-homeless. Not for him, though. He needed his pain. His wound to remain open like a chi...
Weekly Contest #206
Palazathar, the Dragon Lord, stood tall on the crevice overlooking this seasons’ coming brood. The smell of burning white-stone, the chants of his chosen Priests filling the echoes of the Sacred Breeding Chamber. The Dragons did the work, the Choosing and tending the Eggs, but Palazathar maintained the great spell that kept this Chamber sealed away from the rest of the world. Dragons, the demi-gods that were the anchor of magic in the world, were held as sacred tools of the creator gods. Every Mynian knew that since they were taken as babes...
Weekly Contest #204
“And don’t let me hear another ‘Is it done?’. I’ve been simmering this stew all day and it’s powerful hot in here and you’ve been under my feet all day, Julian!” Mam always got mad-minded when Pa was gone celebrating with his hunt friends after he brought a short horned deer from the mountains. They were getting rarer with the drought this year. I hear the old folks talking about droughts and how bad things are in this day and age along with the creaks and groans of the boards outside of the mercantile. The rocking chairs that Mams’ Pa made ...
Weekly Contest #202
“Where is he?!?” “Why would you want him here at all? The cops will be the least of our worries if he shows up before we’re done!” “Of course I don’t want him here to bust up our little soiree! Not when we’re having fun! I mean he’s usually here 5 minutes after the silent alarm is tripped. So something is amiss.” “Maybe Joey Barlone finally killed him. He swore vengeance on the Red Raven when he locked up his mother for money laundering.” “Alleged….money laundering. I’m with Joey, I think the Raven set up him and his family. Beats me how...
Weekly Contest #201
Why are the lights on? Under my feet, I crunch cups, drug paraphernalia, discarded programs. I see the road crew start shouting orders at the newbies. The venue workers start gathering the chairs, both still usable and the ones no longer able to hold butts. It’s just disgraceful that the Band will be charged for damages because some of us that show them the respect they deserve showed our devotion in a different way. This is nuts. They always do “My almost grand kiss” for the encore before they left. What the hell is going on?!? I stomped ...
Weekly Contest #199
Heads up- This is meant as a sequel to a previously posted story here. "On the way to somewhere you're not". The cup was getting warm, but I wasn’t. The few sips that I took that burned my tongue didn’t help. I knew that I couldn’t get my money back on the tongue burning or the shivers, so I decided to just live with it. Like I usually do. I’m just glad I thought to grab my coats when I left my last apartment, unannounced. Jobs were scarce for somebody like me. Finally got one that helped pay for this cup over-warming my hand, so I need to ...
Weekly Contest #198
Maybe I can start this journal with some gratitude thought like my counselor, Ms. Crystal New Age Healer etc…that sarcasm is just because I can’t remember her real name…says to do. I can’t think of any other way to put all this down….. I’m grateful that nobody else remembered what happened on last Friday’s class trip. So glad, so gratitude. Now for the literal gory details. Mr. Terrance’s history class never sat still for long. For that, I’m also grateful to the old fart. He loved field trips to the museum when they got in an exhibit from ...
Weekly Contest #196
“Hey ace. We need to talk. Now.” Walking toward me at a brisk pace, I grabbed my arm and pulled me along into the sidewalk crowd that cared nothing that I was literally talking to myself. “Do you still have those….coffee shops? The ones that sell an easy drink to make at a ridiculous price and pretend it’s something that matters to everyone else?” I grunted, surprised at the force that I had at this old age. “Uh, yeah. Who are you?! What are you doing?!” I said to myself, staggering at being pulled by my own hand, even decades older. “Wher...
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