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Weekly Contest #301
BiggieBy Don Cambou © The Biggie project had begun three years earlier with scientific curiosity, a dash of deception, and more than a bit of hubris. Linda was happy to work the night shift keeping an eye on the Big Guy and his needs. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but she’d always felt there was more to Biggie than any of her fellow researchers cared, or dared, to admit. She keypunched her way through three doors and into his inner sanctum. Hal, one of the two other researchers, was glad to end his shift. “Looks like you’ve been with Chuc...
Weekly Contest #295
THE WITCH’S FIREBy Don Cambou ©Me feet be tough from not ever wearin shoes. So me don’t feel de sharp sticks me be standin’ on. Bigger sticks be stacked under and around dose, and bigger still under dose. Don’t hurt from de heavy rope dat tie me wrists to de stake behind me neither. Me got no fear, even as de brown cloaked monk pours de hot pig fat onto de big sticks under me and de little sticks me standing on. Me got no fear today. Me only got hate inside me old and twisted body. Another brown cloaked monk stand dere with a fiery torch. He...
Weekly Contest #292
THE BREW WITCH By Don Cambou © Eliza Course lived alone, except for her cat. She was a handsome young woman. Her teeth were white and straight and she hadn’t lost any of them. Her breasts rode high and proud. Her long black hair shined in the light of the sun. She could have had a husband, but Eliza like to keep her own company. The last thing she wanted was to cook and have babies for some feeble brained wood chopper or wheat grower. She could do her own wood chopping and wheat growing. She chose to live ...
Eternal Life, Economy PackageBy Don Cambou © This really sucks. I was tired of slurpin’ up all my liquid food “meals,” of some kind of nurse wiping my butt after taking a crap, of sitting around for days at a time with nobody coming to visit or even givin’ me a call. But I guess most of all I was tired of of my lousy 122 year old body full of aches and pains, farting all the time and pissing my pants. Who wants to pay for that? I knew I had enough money to live in Green Garden – it wasn’t green, and it wasn’t a garden -- ...
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