Microcosms 167

Greetings, flash fictionistas, and welcome to Microcosms 167. 🙂

 

REMEMBER!

(1) You have just 48 hours until midnight, tomorrow (Saturday) New York time (EST) to write and submit your masterpiece.
(2) All submissions must be no more than 300 words in length (excluding the title)
(3) NO FAN-FICTION, please, and NO USE of COPYRIGHT CHARACTERS
(4) Include: word count, the THREE elements you’re using AND a title for your entry
(5) Do NOT give details of your entry on social media, your blog, etc. until the Results post is live
(6) If you are new to Microcosms, PLEASE check out the full submission guidelines 

Per my usual, I looked to today’s history for inspiration. There were several interesting events, births, and deaths, but one of the more notable ones to me was the passing of Elvis Presley. So, I thought it would be fun to explore some characters and locations based upon his songs, movies, and his life. So, go make yourself a peanut butter and banana sandwich and get writing. Enjoy!

KM

 

(If YOU have an idea for a future contest and would like to be a guest host, please contact us.)

 

Our contest this week begins with THREE things: character, location and genre.

We spun, and our three elements are:

Soldier; Las Vegas; Song Lyrics

Hmm…
Write a story using those OR feel free to click on the “Spin!” button below, and the slot machine will come up with a new set – character, location and genre. You can keep clicking until you have a set of elements that inspires you.

 

  • Prisoner
  • Heir
  • Singer
  • Soldier
  • Hound Dog
  • Racecar Driver
  • Jailhouse
  • Hawaii
  • Stage
  • Las Vegas
  • Hotel
  • Mansion
  • Drama
  • Comedy
  • Song Lyrics
  • Romance
  • Action
  • Sci-Fi/Fantasy
  • Epistolary
  • Horror

 

Spin!

Last week’s Judge’s Pick, Eloise, has kindly agreed to act as the judge this time around.
 

All being well, results will be posted next Monday.

Microcosms 168
Microcosms 166
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32 comments for “Microcosms 167

  1. Ted young
    16 August 2019 at 9:31 am

    267 words
    Soldier, Las Vegas, Song Lyrics

    Brothers in Arms
    I come from a military family, but have no liking for the damned concept I vowed never to wear a uniform.
    I made up my mind to be a hippy, a busker, a poet, a drifter and swear no allegiance to any crown or country.
    My three brothers on the other hand had fine and noble careers in the Army, Navy, and Air Force respectively .

    I languish in a California hospital trying to fit a tune to this song;

    Let’s hear it for my brave brother Don.
    Air Marshals queue to pin medals on,
    the boy who flew a fighter plane.
    doing things that sound insane
    and arriving safely home again
    Trails of glory everywhere he’s gone.
    Three cheers for brave old brother Don.

    Let’s hear it for my brother courageous Dave.
    who battled on the wildest ocean wave.
    His ship went down in a terrible dive,
    only a few men would survive,
    Davey made it home alive
    Many strong hands reached out to save
    My brave and noble brother Dave

    Then of course there’s my brother Ray,
    who joined the army and marched away.
    Always ready to lead a charge,
    any enemy small or large,
    disregarding the worst barrage
    They swell with pride whenever they say
    the name and rank of my brother Ray

    I’m laying here and I hurt a lot,
    bemoaning the misfortunes I have got.
    I failed to pay a Los Vegas bill,
    the heavies came to maim or kill.
    Am I facing deaths cold chill.
    My brothers carried guns but I did not,
    how come I’m the only bugger to get shot.

    3+
  2. 16 August 2019 at 10:58 am

    http://www.engleson
    @billmelaterplea
    300 words
    Soldier/stage/drama

    The Act of War…is NOT Scenic

    Scene 1

    Soldier A: Sign on the dotted line. That’s what the recruiter said. Easy! Your country needs you. You know, I never heard that before. Move along, you bum. That’s all I ever heard my country saying to me. So, here was this Sergeant, all shit and polish, shiny buttons and all, and he’s saying, “Your Country not only needs you. We’ll love you. Well, it kinda choked me up. So, I said, I’m yours.

    Soldier B: I was born for it, eh! Family tradition. My father never made it overseas, but he was ready to go. Always said that. Just never got called. My grandpa did, but he never came back. So, I never knew him. The old man and I, we’d be watching a John Wayne movie, like, his favourite was Sand of Iwo Jima, and he’d say, sonny boy, you get a chance, you could be him. You could be your grandpa. Well, that did it for me. My course was set.

    Scene 2

    Soldier C: I was a child. A child playing in my village when the Boko Haram swooped down like vultures. They gathered up the young girls and took me and my friends. “We will make you fighters,” the leader said. “You will love the taste of blood in your mouth.”

    Soldier D: The bombs fell on my family. Whose bombs are they, I asked? My uncle, arm blasted away from his body, answered, “Does it matter. I am dead.”

    Scene 3

    Playwright: FDR said, “War is young men dying and old men talking.” I thought, how do you ever end war when old men never stop talking about it? Then I wondered, what if wars were confined to the stage? No one would need to die.

    Profiteer: To hell with you, Playwright.

    5+
  3. 16 August 2019 at 11:09 am

    Lynda Kirby @lynda_kirby

    273 words

    Soldier: Las Vegas: Song Lyrics

    Something in Common

    ‘Hey, Grandad. Tell us a story.’
    Stan grinned. ‘I’ll sing it for you.’
    The three young ‘uns, Joe, Greta and Mathew, each plopped on the carpet crossing their legs and giggling. Stan adored this time spent with them while their mother went grocery shopping. He passed around the bag of sherbet lemons before putting a record on his ancient Dansette. He struggled to stand and with his cane as a microphone began to sing twisting his hips to the rhythm.
    ‘While working as a soldier in Germany
    I met the great Elvis Presley
    He didn’t have money to burn that night
    So I lent him a pound.’
    ‘Grandad, you’re so funny.’ Greta put both hands over her mouth and giggled. ‘It doesn’t rhyme.’
    Stan grimaced and fell backwards on to his chair panting as he sang the chorus. ‘Viva Las Vegas, Viva Las Vegas.’
    ‘Who’s the Presley guy ?’ His seven-year-old grandson scrunched his face.
    In the superior tone of a fourteen-year-old, Mathew said, ‘An old-fashioned singer, numskull.’
    ‘Did you really meet him, Grandad?’ Greta’s eyes were wide and she placed her hands on his shaking knees.
    ‘Oh yes, sweetheart. And I lent him a quid.’
    They never believed his tales. Tall stories his daughter called them.
    The US soldiers earned more money and wore better uniforms, so Stan asked Elvis why he had no money. Okay, he’d spent it already but the majority he sent home to his Mom. Something they had in common.
    When his family had gone, Stan sang ‘Viva Las Vegas’ while opening an old biscuit tin with a one-pound note pinned to an IOU signed by Elvis Presley.

    6+
    • 16 August 2019 at 2:13 pm

      Lynda Kirby @lynda_kirby

      274 words

      Soldier: Las Vegas: Song Lyrics

      Something in Common

      ‘Hey, Grandad. Tell us a story.’
      Stan grinned. ‘I’ll sing it for you.’
      The three young ‘uns, Joe, Greta and Mathew, each plopped on the carpet crossing their legs and giggling. Stan adored this time spent with them while their mother went grocery shopping. He passed around the bag of sherbet lemons before putting a record on his ancient Dansette. He struggled to stand and with his cane as a microphone began to sing twisting his hips to the rhythm.
      ‘While working as a soldier in Germany
      I met the great Elvis Presley
      He didn’t have money to burn that night
      So I lent him a pound.’
      ‘Grandad, you’re so funny.’ Greta put both hands over her mouth and giggled. ‘It doesn’t rhyme.’
      Stan grimaced and fell backwards on to his chair panting as he sang the chorus. ‘Viva Las Vegas, Viva Las Vegas.’
      ‘Who’s the Presley guy ?’ His seven-year-old grandson scrunched his face.
      In the superior tone of a fourteen-year-old, Mathew said, ‘An old-fashioned singer, numskull.’
      ‘Did you really meet him, Grandad?’ Greta’s eyes were wide and she placed her hands on his shaking knees.
      ‘Oh yes, sweetheart. And I lent him a quid.’
      They never believed his tales. Tall stories his daughter called them.
      The US soldiers earned more money and wore better uniforms, so Stan asked Elvis why he had no money. Okay, he’d spent it already but the majority he sent home to his Mom. Something they had in common.
      When his family had gone, Stan sang ‘Viva Las Vegas’ while opening an old biscuit tin with a one-pound note pinned to an IOU signed by Elvis Presley inside.

      4+
    • 17 August 2019 at 10:38 pm

      A nice touch, a gentle story, and painfully . probably more possible than old f—s like me care to admit.

      1+
      • Lynda Kirbey
        18 August 2019 at 8:50 am

        Thank you, Bill. I’m with you on the age thing.

        0
  4. Janie Frank
    16 August 2019 at 11:17 am

    We called ourselves The Soldiers. We were a group of about 20, depending on the week. The idea was that we were starving artists of all types just trying to get by in Las Vegas, but the truth was that we were white-collar workers tired of sitting at a desk all day who wanted some sense of community in a city that had never belonged to us.

    “How about this?” I heard one of the girls ask another. She began to sing.

    “Albany made me leave,
    Memphis gave me away,
    Denver was my reprieve,
    But Las Vegas is where I’ll stay.”

    The lyrics were crude and her voice was clearly untrained. Her lyrics were undeveloped. A child could have written them, but it was raw. She wasn’t trying to be something she wasn’t.

    I looked at the other Soldiers around us and thought about how we spent our days. Our group had drug addicts, those facing depression and anxiety, all sorts of trauma victims. We were all here because we turned to our creative outlets for guidance. What were we looking for? Approval? Endorsement? Permission to carry on?

    I leaned over the table, close enough for the girl to hear me over the noise in the café.

    “I liked it,” I told her.

    2+
    • Janie Frank
      16 August 2019 at 11:19 am

      Sorry! The title is “A Soldier’s Endorsement”.

      0
  5. 16 August 2019 at 3:31 pm

    Prisoner; Jailhouse; Comedy
    299 words

    The Acrostics Distraction Technique (ADT)

    Basement Cell. Darkness. Alone. One locked door. Mattress on floor in corner. Desk. Two chairs. Cold tap attached to wall. Days marked with spoon-scratches on wall.

    Day One:
    Today they were calm. I told them nothing. Whilst they slapped me about, in my head I practiced the Acrostics Distraction Technique (ADT), learnt in training, to deflect the pain.

    SPOON – Stay Polite, Only Offer Nothing.

    …should that be Offer Only?

    DESK – Deny Everything, Stay Kalm

    …no, not Kalm. Stay Kool? Sugar-Koated? It was hard concentrating…remaining focused. They all begin with C not K.

    Seek Karma… Shit Kills… Seize Kalashnikov. Then I got it.

    DESK – Deny Everything, Say Kissy-kissy.

    …I didn’t say that out loud, it might’ve wound them up.

    Day Two:
    Less calm. More interrogation. Severe slapping and a bit of a kicking this time. I’ve rapidly exhausted the inspiring prompts.

    MATTRESS – My Aunt Tracy Tasted Rhubarb Every Second Sunday.

    …Didn’t really help.

    MATTRESS – My Ambition To Talk, Resisted Every Succeeding Slap.

    Better.

    CHAIRS – Can’t Help Any Interrogator; Really Sorry.

    ADT actually worked.

    Day Three:
    They went positively mental. Waterboarding. TAP inspired me. Didn’t need anything else.

    TAP – Taken As Prisoner, Try Asking Politely, Torture as Pleasure (that’s a strange one), Take A Pill, Take Away Pipe, Tainted And Pointless, Trifling And Piffling, Tongue-tied And Pissed-off, Typically Archaic Practice. Tomorrow Again Please!

    …I definitely didn’t say that last one out loud.

    Good old ADT – saved again.

    Day Four:
    I heard them coming along the corridor. I needed new prompts quickly. They carried something in. It was getting serious.

    BATTERY – Before Attaching Terminals Take Exercise Round Yard.

    CABLES – Can Any Body Leave Early? Seriously!

    …No shit. I needed inspiration urgently…

    TESTICLES – ???
    Told Every Secret To Interrogator, Completely Let Enemy Succeed.

    4+
  6. Olivia
    16 August 2019 at 5:14 pm

    297 words

    Soldier; Las Vegas; Song Lyrics

    The Love for my City

    I sat at the workbench in my apartment overlooking the glowing streets of what I called home. It felt good to be back in the states once again. I had been in the Navy for ten years and leaving home had never gotten easier.
    I lived with my dog Colton, in the city of Las Vegas although in truth I wasn’t home much.
    On my most recent deployment the ship had been destroyed leaving some of us missing limbs or dead. Looking down I was reminded of that horrific day and the embarrassment of having to get a dog for emotional support. Some say it was easy to forget but how could I forget that day when I had a prosthetic leg?
    “Cali you’ll always be a place I cherish most.
    Oh how I love seeing you on the coast.
    Down the streets oh so dear,
    Is the town that disappears,
    Beyond the horizon and out of view,
    When the ship is calling you. ” I whispered the lyrics I had once treasured. It was like a weight was lifted from my shoulders and the trials of the Navy were put aside for a little longer. Colton barked, wagging his tail happily beside me.
    “Oh you liked that didn’t you old boy?” He barked again licking my hand before lying down. I scratched behind his ears in a sorrowful joy. In a few hours I had to leave again and I wasn’t looking forward to that. I gazed out the window the lyrics playing through head all night. Colton was asleep beside me and the golden streaks of morning kissed his fur. The sun cast shadows over the iron tanks roaming the streets, sent to come take me away.
    “ Rise and shine this city of mine,
    It’s time.”

    2+
  7. Olivia
    16 August 2019 at 6:06 pm

    297 words

    Soldier; Las Vegas; Song Lyrics

    The Love for my City

    I sat at the workbench in my apartment overlooking the glowing streets of what I called home. It felt good to be back in the states once again. I had been in the Army for ten years and leaving home had never gotten easier.
    I lived with my dog Colton, in the city of Las Vegas although in truth I wasn’t home much.
    On my most recent deployment the base had been destroyed leaving some of us missing limbs or dead. Looking down I was reminded of that horrific day and the embarrassment of having to get a dog for emotional support. Some say it was easy to forget but how could I forget that day when I had a prosthetic leg?
    “Cali you’ll always be a place I cherish most.
    Oh how I love seeing you on the coast.
    Down the streets oh so dear,
    Is the town that disappears,
    Beyond the horizon and out of view,
    When the war is calling you. ” I whispered the lyrics I had once treasured. It was like a weight was lifted from my shoulders and the trials of the Army were put aside for a little longer. Colton barked, wagging his tail happily beside me.
    “Oh you liked that didn’t you old boy?” He barked again licking my hand before lying down. I scratched behind his ears in a sorrowful joy. In a few hours I had to leave again and I wasn’t looking forward to that. I gazed out the window the lyrics playing through head all night. Colton was asleep beside me and the golden streaks of morning kissed his fur. The sun cast shadows over the iron tanks roaming the streets, sent to come take me away.
    “ Rise and shine this city of mine,
    It’s time.”

    0
  8. Olivia
    16 August 2019 at 6:09 pm

    298 words

    Soldier; Las Vegas; Song Lyrics

    The Love for my City

    I sat at the workbench in my apartment overlooking the glowing streets of what I called home. It felt good to be back in the states once again. I had been in the Army for ten years and leaving home had never gotten easier.
    I lived with my dog Colton, in the city of Las Vegas although in truth I wasn’t home much.
    On my most recent deployment the base had been destroyed leaving some of us missing limbs or dead. Looking down I was reminded of that horrific day and the embarrassment of having to get a dog for emotional support. Some say it was easy to forget but how could I forget that day when I had a prosthetic leg?
    “Cali you will always be a place I cherish most.
    Oh how I love seeing you on the coast.
    Down the streets oh so dear,
    Is the town that disappears,
    Beyond the horizon and out of view,
    When the war is calling you. ” I whispered the lyrics I had once treasured. It was like a weight was lifted from my shoulders and the trials of the Army were put aside for a little longer. Colton barked, wagging his tail happily beside me.
    “Oh you liked that didn’t you old boy?” He barked again licking my hand before lying down. I scratched behind his ears in a sorrowful joy. In a few hours I had to leave again and I wasn’t looking forward to that. I gazed out the window the lyrics playing through head all night. Colton was asleep beside me and the golden streaks of morning kissed his fur. The sun cast shadows over the iron tanks roaming the streets, sent to come take me away.
    “ Rise and shine this city of mine,
    It’s time.”

    4+
  9. Kirsty Peto
    16 August 2019 at 7:36 pm

    @KirstyPeto
    300 words
    Racecar Driver; Hawaii; Comedy

    No Rest for the Wicked

    “Babe can you put sun cream on by back?”
    “Yeah no prob…”
    “And no drawing phallic symbols.”
    “Would I do that?”
    “Yes. You did…yesterday. I’m doing my best to get rid of this thing today.”
    “How dare you to try to tan over my piece of art, I spent ages perfecting that.”
    “Keep talking and you’ll be sleeping on that sun lounger tonight.”
    “Sorry babe. All done and no drawings this time, promise.”
    “Mhmmm.”

    “Let’s go do something, I’m bored of sitting on the beach doing nothing.”
    “You could go swimming. The sea is right there.”
    “But there’s seaweed and sharks in there, you don’t want me to get eaten do you?”
    “No…course not. Though it might be more peaceful. Why don’t you go get a drink. I’ll have a margarita.”
    “It’s only 11am.”
    “We’re on holiday, there are no rules for day drinking. Besides, it may be 11am in Hawaii but it’s 10pm back home. It would be rude not to have a drink.”
    “We can drink later, lets do something fun. How about go karts?”
    “We’re on vacation, we are not bringing work on holiday. Besides, you will only get upset when you lose.”
    “I’m not going to lose this time. Your boss gave me a lesson during your lunch break.”
    “Babe, I spend my life in an upgraded go kart. I just want to spend my holiday relaxing on the beach and drinking cocktails. I haven’t asked you to file my taxes and balance my accounts whilst we’re here have I?”
    “Fine…you’re no fun. And I have technically submitted our taxes whilst we’re here. The email went out this morning.”
    “If I get in a go kart will you shut up?!”
    “Yes! I knew you’d give in, let’s go!”
    “I’m married to a child.”

    3+
  10. 16 August 2019 at 10:56 pm

    289 words
    Soldier; Las Vegas; Song Lyrics

    The Casino plays Sinatra’s hit song, “Somethin’ Stupid.”
    Jim doesn’t notice. His brain plays Country Joe McDonald’s “I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-to-Die Rag.” In his pocket the letter. His ticket to ride, “You are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Services of the United States.” Foreign travel on a soldier’s ticket. Jim is “F-U….”
    HIs first trip to Las Vegas. Twenty bucks in his pocket and no foreseeable future. Lost in the gleaming glitz of Ceasars Palace. Neon lighting, cigarette girls with legs longer than skyscrapers, slot machines ringing nonstop, and more fake palms than real palms in the Vietnam Jungle.
    Uncle Sam took Jim’s brother. Bob joined the Air Force and they never gave the body back. “You son died a hero,” they told his mom. Bob’s co-pilot wrote that Bob was in the bomb bay when a stoner from the ground crew dropped the napalm during refueling. The co-pilot deserted a month later, wrote that Bob wanted Jim to catch a flight to Canada should Big Uncle come knocking.
    The flight costs $250 and he’d need more to live on. Jim puts his twenty on the pass line and rolls. Point four. He rolls seven. He leaves his forty on the pass line. Point six; he rolls six. A few throws later he’s at five hundred.
    He flashes on the “Something Stupid” song lyrics.
    “the stars get red and, oh, the night’s so blue
and then I go and spoil it all by sayin’ something stupid.”
    He should walk. Book his flight. But he can double the five hundred with one throw.
    Two hours later he boards the bus to Fort Jackson. His brain plays “Taps.”

    2+
  11. Deanna Salser
    16 August 2019 at 11:20 pm

    @beadanna7
    300 words
    Soldier; Las Vegas; Song Lyrics

    Day and Night

    I stand on the strip, watching over the town
    Tourists and vagrants, walking up, walking down
    Money and liquor are flowing like water
    Girls dressing skimpy are somebody’s daughter
    Music leaks lightly through each open door
    Taunting, enticing your feet on the floor
    Sounds of excitement, sounds of despair
    Someone just lost their life savings in there

    I’ve never gambled, except with my life
    I carry a gun, a canteen, and a knife
    I am the one between you and a fight
    I keep the country safe day and night
    Day and Night

    There have been others inside of my shoes
    Moccasins, boots, or suede colored blues
    Our pants have had hips that swayed to the beat
    Our shirts have had bellies with nothing to eat
    We’ve marched in the heat and marched in the rain
    Some cry out loud, but most don’t complain
    We’ve given our lives in service to yours
    We’re here to guard all the scariest doors

    I’ve never gambled, except with my life
    I carry a gun, a canteen, and a knife
    I am the one between you and a fight
    I keep the country safe day and night
    Day and Night

    The strip is a dream with its glitter and paint
    And sits at the edge of a nuclear taint
    Test after test is destroying the land
    Creating a huge patch of nuclear sand
    The only thing standing in front of your fear
    Are the people like me and the flag we hold dear
    The only thing keeping Americans free
    Is the readiness of many men just like me

    I’ve never gambled, except with my life
    I carry a gun, a canteen, and a knife
    I am the one between you and a fight
    I keep the country safe day and night
    Day and Night

    7+
    • 17 August 2019 at 10:59 pm

      raw and powerful…nicely done.

      1+
      • Deanna Doreen Salser
        17 August 2019 at 11:29 pm

        Thank you, Bill.

        0
    • Lynda Kirby
      18 August 2019 at 8:48 am

      Wonderful. Poignant, evocative, full of great imagery. Loved it.

      1+
      • Deanna Doreen Salser
        18 August 2019 at 11:19 am

        Thank you, Lynda.

        0
    • Ted young
      21 August 2019 at 9:46 am

      This is beautiful & really clever, Dean a thanks
      Peace & Love

      0
  12. 17 August 2019 at 12:49 am

    @graythebruce
    300 words
    Prisoner; Hotel; Horror

    57.88 MPH

    It’s minutes before anyone answers.
    “Front desk.”
    “This is Dr. Glass. Eight-oh-three?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I — This is weird…”
    “Sir?”
    “I can’t find an elevator for this floor.”
    “I assure you, there’s an elevator.”
    “There isn’t.”
    “How’d you reach your floor, Dr. Glass?”
    “Yeah, yeah, by elevator. But it’s gone now. There’s just a wall, a mirror, some empty pots on a table.”
    “From your room, sir, make a left. Turn right at the corner–”
    “On the right after the ice machine, yeah?”
    “Correct, sir.”
    “No, it isn’t.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “Can’t you do anything?”
    “I can’t make an elevator disappear, so I surely can’t make one appear.”
    “I’m supposed to be going to a conference this morning.”
    “You can always take the stairs. We have them in case of fires. Or vanishing elevators.”
    “End of the 860s hallway, right?”
    “That’s one.”
    “Missing.”
    “There’s also–”
    “Also missing.”
    “I don’t think there’s anything I can do for you, sir, except to call you psychiatric help.”
    “I don’t need that kind of help.”
    “If you say so, sir.”
    He hangs up. Fumes. Tries the elevator bay again, places hands against wallpaper. Follows the exit signs to blank walls. By lunch, he’s ravenous. Calls room service.
    “We’re happy to help. However, there seems to be some trouble with your card,” the man downstairs says. “If you’d come to the lobby and run a different card–”
    “I can’t pay. Come up here and throw me out.”
    “Sir. We don’t do that. Find a card–”
    He hangs up. Guzzles tap water.
    #
    Every day, two weeks, he repeats the calls, the search.
    Every day, he sees no one.
    Every night, he hears the elevator as he tosses.
    #
    Day fourteen, he hangs up.
    Leans his forehead against the window glass.
    Gauges thickness.
    Imagines the eight-story drop.

    3+
    • 17 August 2019 at 11:00 pm

      Okay, I’m never staying in a hotel again.

      2+
  13. 17 August 2019 at 6:52 am

    @el_Stevie
    299 words
    Heir/jailhouse/epistolary

    Preach

    Dear Dad,

    Well, that all went a bit pear-shaped, didn’t it? You made me your heir, promised me the world …

    Practise what you preach, was our motto. Well, boy did I preach. I stood in town squares – and got arrested; I stood on village greens – and got arrested (although that might have been due to the signs saying ‘Keep off the grass’). I was even put in twitter ‘jail’ on social media.

    I’m regarded as homophobic, misogynistic and racist. The Word, our Word, can no longer be spoken or taken, literally. This is the age of the Book of Revelations and nobody will listen to me. ☹

    I tried miracles but nobody believed, said it was all trickery, special effects.

    I heard people were hungry, going to Food Banks so tried with the bread and fish again. That was a can of worms. Firstly, I had to give an ingredients list out to highlight any allergens and THEN I had the pescatarians asking what they could have, where was their alternative?

    I joked about the Lamb of God being roasted (double meaning these days) and was abused by both ministers and vegetarians alike.

    They’re going to let me out when I’ve considered my situation. Do you know what I’m going to do next? Bring out the big guns, raise the dead. That’ll make them take notice.

    Your loving Son

    Jesus

    PS Late posting this so here’s an update:

    I raised the dead and everyone thought it was zombie cos play(!). They loved the ‘authenticity’. A big Hollywood producer then asked if I could recreate the ‘look’ for his new zombie film. Good money, a villa with a pool, a chance to kick back and relax.

    Speak to you soon, Dad … Dad … are you there? Dad …

    4+
    • 17 August 2019 at 11:14 pm

      Hey Steph, brilliant…and this line…”I heard people were hungry, going to Food Banks so tried with the bread and fish again. That was a can of worms.” I am envious…

      4+
  14. 17 August 2019 at 3:34 pm

    Soldier; Las Vegas; Song Lyrics
    247 words

    The Soundtrack of an Affair (in around 30 songs)

    Getting into Las Vegas on a weekend pass, the young soldier was unsure of how to best spend his time. He’s been hoping to get some good rockin’ tonight but for the time being he couldn’t find a vacancy anywhere in town, it was all heartbreak hotel. Absentmindedly, he crossed the strip without looking and was nearly run down by a car, leaving him all shook up.

    ‘You must have a good luck charm.’ Said a young and beautiful rubbernecker.

    ‘No, that’s all right,’ he replied, ‘I feel so bad. I’ve got the GI blues.’

    ‘Tell me why. Are you lonesome tonight?’ she asked.

    ‘Last time I was here I met a girl. I tried to stay in touch with her but my letter came back marked return to sender, address unknown.’

    ‘She must have been a hard headed woman, you poor boy.’

    ‘I can’t help falling in love.’

    ‘A little less conversation, a little more action. It’s now or never.’

    ‘Hey, I’ve got a woman. I’ve got a lot of livin’ to do.’

    ‘Now and then there’s a fool such as I.’

    ‘I’m stuck on you. I’ll never let you go.’

    ‘You don’t have to say you love me.’

    ‘I want you, I need you, I love you.’

    ‘I love you because, just because.’

    ‘I feel like I’m the king of the whole wide world.’

    ‘Love me tender, don’t be cruel. Treat me nice, let me be your teddy bear.’

    ‘Viva Las Vegas, viva Las Vegas’

    2+
    • 18 August 2019 at 11:58 am

      Tim, you are a flash fiction hound dog of the first order…

      1+
  15. 17 August 2019 at 6:01 pm

    @ellengwriter
    http://www.nowmywingsfit.wordpress.com
    300 words
    Heir; Hotel; Action

    The Bodyguard

    An arrow thudded into the wall, narrowly missing Willa’s head.

    “Come on! We have to go!”

    Willa grabbed Reyna’s wrist and dragged her out of the room. The hotel door slammed shut behind them.

    “Shit!” Reyna shouted.

    “What?”

    “I left the keycard inside!”

    Willa growled. “Now is not the time!” She wrenched Reyna towards the lift.

    A bing sounded from the end of the corridor. The lift doors opened, revealing three armoured men with swords at their sides.

    Willa yelled: grabbed her one-handed crossbow from her side. Three shots landed in three foreheads.

    “This way!” Willa led Reyna back the way they had come till they reached a floor-to-ceiling window. Willa brought her elbow up, shattered the glass. It fell one story to the ground.

    “You have got to be kidding me- SHIT!” Reyna screamed.

    Willa landed on her feet then rolled onto her front. Reyna landed in a heap next to her.

    “Come on!” Willa yelled. “They’ll know we’re here now!”

    Another arrow sank into the ground next to Reyna’s sprawled hand. “They didn’t know before?”

    Willa hauled Reyna to her feet and broke off into a sprint. Her grip held tight to Reyna’s sleeve. They were out the front of the hotel now, heading for the road.

    Willa grabbed a shrunken pumpkin from her pocket. She blew on it and threw it into the road. With a hiss like a deflating balloon, the pumpkin grew into a carriage.

    Willa wrenched the door open and threw Reyna inside, then climbed up into the seat next to her. She slammed her foot on the floor. The wheels screeched. Within seconds, they were breaking the speed limit.

    “What’s going on?” Reyna gasped.

    “Those men are after you,” Willa sighed. “They’re after your inheritance. What exactly are you the heir of, anyway?”

    1+
  16. 17 August 2019 at 6:37 pm

    http://www.theredfleece.co.uk
    @The_Red_Fleece
    282 Words
    Prisoner, Jailhouse, Drama

    Cassandras
    Someone plucked at a guitar. The notes flicked around the tight cell, echoing off the walls at weird angles. The whole thing felt very old fashioned on a prison asteroid filled with drone cameras on the edges of a galactic war.
    The edge was how we described the conflict for so many years. Something that happen on other planets in the system but never ours. Then the orbital bombardment started. Refuges held to wherever would take them. We did the right thing, took in what we could. Made them feel at home.
    Then the Cassandras started. I shouldn’t even call them that. It is there name. I should call them what they are, fascists. What they call everyone else but I guess everyone calls their enemies fascists.
    They certainly did when the Guild started locking them up on this god forsaken rock for moaning about taking the refugees in. How we were stupid for doing the right thing, helping those who need our help.
    When the locking up started, their words changed from “don’t let them in” to “lock them up instead of us.” Talking as if they were the martyrs, not the hate mongers. They wouldn’t be the last group the Guild would come for. They would come for you next.
    Even if they wanted to the Guild never got a chance, the Alliance arrived first. The orbital bombardment lasted a planet day, leaving no more than a molten crust. The only survivors were the Cassandras and their guards. The wrong people died.
    Today I shall correct that problem. I’ve sent the rest of the guards away. Doesn’t matter where. I won’t care shortly. I need to correct the universe’s mistake.

    1+
  17. 17 August 2019 at 10:03 pm

    @EdenSolera
    111 Words
    Soldier; Mansion; Drama

    No Surrender

    “You must not fail. The world depends on this. On you.”

    She turned to look at the elder warrior beside her. “Is this truly the only way?”

    He sighed, “I wish it were not, but yes, I’m afraid so.”

    “Very well.”

    She called the shadows to her, melting into their embrace. Seconds later, she stepped out from behind the throne, hands held high in surrender.

    Ranks of guards all trained their guns on her small form as she strode to the center of the ornate room.

    The king rose from his throne. “Why are you here?”

    She knelt, then stretched forward to prostrate herself fully. “I surrender, Your Majesty.”

    “Kill her.”

    1+
  18. Janelle Carson
    17 August 2019 at 10:19 pm

    Darling, So It Goes

    Words: 298

    Singer; hotel; song lyrics

    From her place on the stage, the singer watched the man drop to one knee. The dancers stopped. As a circle cleared around the pair–the man kneeling, the woman frozen before him– the singer held up a fist to stop the band. They watched as the woman started to shake. Her hands fluttered to her mouth, her shoulders collapsed into sobs, and– as everyone cascaded into sighs and shrieks–she plummeted into the man’s arms. The singer smiled, clapped with everyone else, and declared, “a song for the happy couple!” She whispered the song to her band, then directed with her hips. “Like a river flows, surely to the sea… ” she crooned into the mic. She watched the couples fall into each other and resume spinning, a galaxy of planets without an orbit. “Some things were meant to be….”

    Later, at nearly four a.m., the singer was finishing a negroni at the bar when the woman burst through the glass double-doors of the lounge. Her eyes were wild as she clambered up the stool, grabbing the edge of the bar to stop herself from tumbling. “Gin and tonic,” she moaned to the bartender, “please.” Catching sight of the singer, the woman gasped. “You,” she called, “That song….how did you know? That I don’t want…”

    The singer downed the last of her drink, dabbed the edges of her lips with a napkin, and stood. “Come on,” she said to the woman. “I’ll take you to your room. Tomorrow, you’ll meet the others.” The woman–bewildered, stumbling– followed her to the hotel elevator. As they rose, the singer hummed to soothe her, knowing that in the end they all just wanted the songs, which is to say they wanted nothing so much as the want itself.

    2+
  19. Ted young
    18 August 2019 at 4:37 am

    Man! that’s deep… write on.

    0
  20. Lynda Kirby
    18 August 2019 at 8:50 am

    Thank you, Bill. I’m with you on the age thing.

    0

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