In the last contest there was a rule we had to choose three items on the list to use it however we wished. There was also a word limit of 600.
1 - a jar of frogspawn
2 - a tattered photo of a distant galaxy
3 - a snowflake on a fingertip
4 - a zombie survival guide with brain stains on the cover
5 - a ragdoll with pins stuck in its head
6 - a broken lightsaber
7 - a newspaper dated August 7th, 1945
8 - a battered copy of 'Twilight'
9 - a radio station playing 'don't stop believing' by Journey
10 - a tin of sunflower yellow paint
11 - a three-legged dog
12 - a packet of M&Ms with all the green ones missing
2 - a tattered photo of a distant galaxy
3 - a snowflake on a fingertip
4 - a zombie survival guide with brain stains on the cover
5 - a ragdoll with pins stuck in its head
6 - a broken lightsaber
7 - a newspaper dated August 7th, 1945
8 - a battered copy of 'Twilight'
9 - a radio station playing 'don't stop believing' by Journey
10 - a tin of sunflower yellow paint
11 - a three-legged dog
12 - a packet of M&Ms with all the green ones missing
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I came in a VERY close second. Difference of one or two points. (just to give you an idea of the word limit there were over 220K words in my book)
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Zombies, again
Zombies, why did it have to be zombies?
I looked out the window again hoping that it was only my eyes playing tricks with the shadows. My gut told me the truth, it was zombies, again. My boyfriend was muttering curses as he looking through is duffle bag again. I heard the thump, thump, scrape on the street just before the hoard emerged from the darkness.
“Ah-ha!” Derek said as he jerked a book out of the clutter packed in his bag.
“That? You were looking for that?” I frowned as I looked at the battered copy of ‘Twilight’.
He glanced at it then muttered. “What is that doing in here?” before returning it into the depths of his bag.
“What do you have in there anyway?”
“Stuff.”
“Oh, really?” I looked back out the window. “Do you have anything that can be useful right now?”
“I was in a hurry, but I know it’s here.” He muttered rooting deeper into his bag.
“Biscuits!” growled grandfather from the other room. “Kellee! I want Biscuits!”
“I’m a little busy, papa!” I hollered back in a sweet calm tone despite my racing heart.
“Kellee!” grandfather shouted. “Do you hear that noise?”
I looked a Derek as he crawled half in the duffle bag. “Do you have a flashlight?” I asked as I walked away from the window.
“Nope, just a broken lightsaber.” He muttered holding it up for me to inspect.
“Did this thing work?” I was surprised by the weight. I expected it to be made of cheap plastic with a stamp ‘made in china’ somewhere near the switch.
“Used to,” Derek muttered. “Here!” he retrieved the book and handed it to me.
“Are you kidding?” I growled. “this is a work of fiction.”
He shrugged. “he knew what he was talking about.”
“I cannot believe you bought a zombie survival guide, what is this?” I flicked at the stains on the cover. “If you tell me that is brains I will cram this up your—”
“Kellee!” grandfather shouted again. “I want Biscuits and gravy!”
“Just give him M&Ms,” Derek handed me the bag. “Tell him the yellow and brown ones are Biscuits and gravy.”
I poured the chocolates into my hand and frowned. “Why are all the green ones missing?”
“Oh,” Derek flushed. “Those were his veggies last night.”
I groaned. “I should just give them all to him and tell him the red ones are—”
Thump thump scrape thump thump scrape
“So what are we going to do?” I frowned as Derek opened the book. I put my palm against the pages and glared at him. “What did you do last night?”
“Oh,” he flushed. “I sang.”
“You sang?”
“Yeah, it was what the radio station was playing.”
I smack my forehead with my palm. “The radio hasn’t worked in years.”
“Oh,” he frowned. “well there was some music on.”
“Kellee!”
I gripped the M&Ms in my hand. “Well you might sing again if it keeps them away until morning, Derek.”
He gave me a growl looking down at the book. “Can’t we try something in the book?”
I shook my head. “Sure, but do you have a…” I took the book spinning it toward me. “…machete?”
“No.”
“Axe?”
“No, but—”
“Shotgun?”
“No.”
“Gasoline powered chain saw?”
“Uh…” he frowned then shook his head. “No.”
I shoved the book at him. “Seems like singing wins.” I shrugged. “I am going to make papa real food. It is diner time anyway. I won’t take long.”
“Fine.” He muttered before stepping out onto the porch. Suddenly applause erupted and Derek proceeded to sing along with the music playing.
“Damn, papa, I never knew he was good at Karaoke.”
Grandpa began pounding his knife and fork on the table with the beat. Dinner and a show what a great way to end the evening, I thought.
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another submission:
A DISTANCE
“If that three-legged dog comes limping in here one more time I swear I am going to make it walk on two legs.” I muttered under my breath snatching up a tin of sunflower yellow paint from my table. “Oh! No, this is all wrong.” I glared at the paint before returning it to it’s place on the table.
“Meg?” Jerry asked as he limped in with the dog. “What are you doing?”
I growled feeling more frustrated. “What do you think I am doing? Making a ragdoll with pins stuck in it’s head? Yes! That is what I am doing.”
He held up his hands and backed out of the room muttering to the dog. “You should have known better than to ask...she’s been edgy lately.”
“Edgy!” I screamed storming toward him. “What makes you think I am edgy?”
His eyes widened as he looked sheepishly at the dog. The dog looked at me and whined.
I growled at both of them as I continued to walk out of the room. I snarled a curse slamming the door behind me. I took a deep breath and sat on the porch of the house. I could hear the radio station playing ‘Don’t stop believing’ by Journey just soft enough to grate against my already frazzled nerves.
“Meg?” Jerry said softly before opening the screen door completely.
“I don’t want to talk, JR,” I muttered without a glance.
“Why not?” he slowly crept out of the house and reluctantly sat next to me on the top step. “I thought you were going to work on your painting again.”
I glanced at him. “How?” I tried not to sound the way I felt. “I can’t find anything anymore.”
“It’s a new place,” he said before putting his arm around my shoulder. “I thought at least if you were painting again the move wouldn’t be so dramatic.”
“We moved a million miles away from everyone to the end of the world.” I sighed looking at the empty landscape.
“Meg, we will get everything set up just the way you like it.” He said softly.
I glared at him. “I don’t think UPS delivers out here in the boonies.”
“We get mail,” he frowned. “UPS will deliver.” after a pause he added, “AND FedEx.”
I looked at him for a long moment then said, “JR it takes a half hour to get the mail.”
He frowned. “We still get it. And you have internet and…” he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the radio. “They just played that song.”
“Welcome to the boonies JR.” I muttered sarcastically.
“Meg, it is an adjustment for both of us, can we just be happy?”
“Yes,” I muttered letting out a breath. “You know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you.”
“Are you sure you’re not here for the dog?” he smiled waving toward the dog sitting inside the house looking at us through the screen door panting cheerfully.
“Him too.” I looked at the tin of paint in my hand. “I guess this can work until we dig out the rest of the stuff.”
“Good.” He helped me to my feet then kissed me.
The house was nicer than anything we had before. I knew my family was a phone call away, it was just an adjustment I wasn’t ready for. I thought I was until we got there. I gave him a hug and patted his chest.
“Okay, JR, let’s unpack and live for a while.”
“I like the thought of forever with you.” He whispered leading me back into the house.
“If that three-legged dog comes limping in here one more time I swear I am going to make it walk on two legs.” I muttered under my breath snatching up a tin of sunflower yellow paint from my table. “Oh! No, this is all wrong.” I glared at the paint before returning it to it’s place on the table.
“Meg?” Jerry asked as he limped in with the dog. “What are you doing?”
I growled feeling more frustrated. “What do you think I am doing? Making a ragdoll with pins stuck in it’s head? Yes! That is what I am doing.”
He held up his hands and backed out of the room muttering to the dog. “You should have known better than to ask...she’s been edgy lately.”
“Edgy!” I screamed storming toward him. “What makes you think I am edgy?”
His eyes widened as he looked sheepishly at the dog. The dog looked at me and whined.
I growled at both of them as I continued to walk out of the room. I snarled a curse slamming the door behind me. I took a deep breath and sat on the porch of the house. I could hear the radio station playing ‘Don’t stop believing’ by Journey just soft enough to grate against my already frazzled nerves.
“Meg?” Jerry said softly before opening the screen door completely.
“I don’t want to talk, JR,” I muttered without a glance.
“Why not?” he slowly crept out of the house and reluctantly sat next to me on the top step. “I thought you were going to work on your painting again.”
I glanced at him. “How?” I tried not to sound the way I felt. “I can’t find anything anymore.”
“It’s a new place,” he said before putting his arm around my shoulder. “I thought at least if you were painting again the move wouldn’t be so dramatic.”
“We moved a million miles away from everyone to the end of the world.” I sighed looking at the empty landscape.
“Meg, we will get everything set up just the way you like it.” He said softly.
I glared at him. “I don’t think UPS delivers out here in the boonies.”
“We get mail,” he frowned. “UPS will deliver.” after a pause he added, “AND FedEx.”
I looked at him for a long moment then said, “JR it takes a half hour to get the mail.”
He frowned. “We still get it. And you have internet and…” he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the radio. “They just played that song.”
“Welcome to the boonies JR.” I muttered sarcastically.
“Meg, it is an adjustment for both of us, can we just be happy?”
“Yes,” I muttered letting out a breath. “You know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you.”
“Are you sure you’re not here for the dog?” he smiled waving toward the dog sitting inside the house looking at us through the screen door panting cheerfully.
“Him too.” I looked at the tin of paint in my hand. “I guess this can work until we dig out the rest of the stuff.”
“Good.” He helped me to my feet then kissed me.
The house was nicer than anything we had before. I knew my family was a phone call away, it was just an adjustment I wasn’t ready for. I thought I was until we got there. I gave him a hug and patted his chest.
“Okay, JR, let’s unpack and live for a while.”
“I like the thought of forever with you.” He whispered leading me back into the house.
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and the last submission:
Only a Dream:
Swinging his feet off the bed Michael failed to notice the bag of M&Ms still sitting on his lap until they spilled across his floor. He growled noticing that that the green M&Ms were missing, again!
He sputtered a curse running his fingers through his tangled hair. He pushed himself off the bed before slowly shuffling through the mess on his floor colorfully speckled with the chocolate candies, minus the green ones.
“Mom!” he hollered as he opened the door. “Why are you messing with the M&Ms?”
“What?” she sang in reply.
“All the green ones are gone!”
“Hmm?” Her voice was a cheerful hum. “What dear?” She asked twirling like a ballerina down the hallway toward him. “Oh Michael,” she looked at his room. “I can’t believe you wasted all those M&Ms!”
“What?” he snapped, “I didn’t—what happened to the green ones, mom?”
“Oh that!” she giggled before spinning in a circle. “You really shouldn’t eat those. They cause brain damage, you know, that’s what I hear. Brain damage.” She sang her last two words.
“Mom, what’s wrong with you?” Waving his hand at her clothes, “You look like Donna Reed or something.”
“Oh this?” she sounded disappointed, “I was hoping to look more like June Cleaver. You did love those shows,” Her voice was breathy before she skipped away humming.
He watched her returned to the kitchen in complete confusion.
“You know,” his sister said softly, “She hasn’t been the same since you tacked up that photograph to your door.”
“What?” He growled. He glanced at the tattered photo of some distant galaxy. Gently he brushed his fingers across it before giving it a quick thump. “That’s nonsense Nancy. We’ve never had a so-called normal life.”
“Who’d want that?” She gave him a bright smile. “Your room is bad. I’d do something before mom does become ‘Donna Reed’ or ‘June Cleaver’.”
He glanced at his room, “I like it. It’s my self-expression.”
“Rrrrright.” She said as she left.
Before he could reach the porcelain sanctuary his mother sang sweetly. “Oh sweetheart!”
He growled turning to face her. She did a pirouette in the hallway making him wonder what she was doing there in the kitchen. She was humming a mish-mash of several songs before slipping past him into the bathroom.
“Mom!” He growled but she quickly emerged holding a jar in her palms. He pinched his nose tightly as the stench struck him. “What the hell is that?”
“Michael there is no need for swearing.” She giggled holding up the jar a little higher as if he needed a better view. “It’s just frogspawn.”
“Frog what?” his stomach lurched.
“A jar of frogspawn, sweetheart.” She said before humming merrily away from him back to the kitchen.
He let out a frustrated breath slamming the door. He gagged at the stench that lingered. He hurried to get out of there.
“Oh dear will you let the dog out?” she sang, “I can’t find him now.”
He rolled his eyes then gave a whistle. The three legged dog came racing toward him. He noticed the dog looked unusually distressed as he ran out. “Hey mom!” he shouted without looking, “I think there is something wrong with the dog.”
“What dear?” she said quietly from behind him. “Don’t shout.” She looked over his shoulder. “See?” Her tone confident. “Will you stop complaining now about the green ones?”
“You gave the dog the M&Ms?”
She laughed lightly, “Well yes and the frogspawn.”
“Why?” he groaned feeling nauseous.
“Well, that’s just wasteful. Besides, what would’ve the neighbors thought, dear?”
He backed away from her retreating to his room. He locked the door before shuffling to his bed. He climbed back in pulling the covers to his neck. He could hear his mother singing in the hallway. Closing his eyes he tried to convince himself it was only a dream.
Swinging his feet off the bed Michael failed to notice the bag of M&Ms still sitting on his lap until they spilled across his floor. He growled noticing that that the green M&Ms were missing, again!
He sputtered a curse running his fingers through his tangled hair. He pushed himself off the bed before slowly shuffling through the mess on his floor colorfully speckled with the chocolate candies, minus the green ones.
“Mom!” he hollered as he opened the door. “Why are you messing with the M&Ms?”
“What?” she sang in reply.
“All the green ones are gone!”
“Hmm?” Her voice was a cheerful hum. “What dear?” She asked twirling like a ballerina down the hallway toward him. “Oh Michael,” she looked at his room. “I can’t believe you wasted all those M&Ms!”
“What?” he snapped, “I didn’t—what happened to the green ones, mom?”
“Oh that!” she giggled before spinning in a circle. “You really shouldn’t eat those. They cause brain damage, you know, that’s what I hear. Brain damage.” She sang her last two words.
“Mom, what’s wrong with you?” Waving his hand at her clothes, “You look like Donna Reed or something.”
“Oh this?” she sounded disappointed, “I was hoping to look more like June Cleaver. You did love those shows,” Her voice was breathy before she skipped away humming.
He watched her returned to the kitchen in complete confusion.
“You know,” his sister said softly, “She hasn’t been the same since you tacked up that photograph to your door.”
“What?” He growled. He glanced at the tattered photo of some distant galaxy. Gently he brushed his fingers across it before giving it a quick thump. “That’s nonsense Nancy. We’ve never had a so-called normal life.”
“Who’d want that?” She gave him a bright smile. “Your room is bad. I’d do something before mom does become ‘Donna Reed’ or ‘June Cleaver’.”
He glanced at his room, “I like it. It’s my self-expression.”
“Rrrrright.” She said as she left.
Before he could reach the porcelain sanctuary his mother sang sweetly. “Oh sweetheart!”
He growled turning to face her. She did a pirouette in the hallway making him wonder what she was doing there in the kitchen. She was humming a mish-mash of several songs before slipping past him into the bathroom.
“Mom!” He growled but she quickly emerged holding a jar in her palms. He pinched his nose tightly as the stench struck him. “What the hell is that?”
“Michael there is no need for swearing.” She giggled holding up the jar a little higher as if he needed a better view. “It’s just frogspawn.”
“Frog what?” his stomach lurched.
“A jar of frogspawn, sweetheart.” She said before humming merrily away from him back to the kitchen.
He let out a frustrated breath slamming the door. He gagged at the stench that lingered. He hurried to get out of there.
“Oh dear will you let the dog out?” she sang, “I can’t find him now.”
He rolled his eyes then gave a whistle. The three legged dog came racing toward him. He noticed the dog looked unusually distressed as he ran out. “Hey mom!” he shouted without looking, “I think there is something wrong with the dog.”
“What dear?” she said quietly from behind him. “Don’t shout.” She looked over his shoulder. “See?” Her tone confident. “Will you stop complaining now about the green ones?”
“You gave the dog the M&Ms?”
She laughed lightly, “Well yes and the frogspawn.”
“Why?” he groaned feeling nauseous.
“Well, that’s just wasteful. Besides, what would’ve the neighbors thought, dear?”
He backed away from her retreating to his room. He locked the door before shuffling to his bed. He climbed back in pulling the covers to his neck. He could hear his mother singing in the hallway. Closing his eyes he tried to convince himself it was only a dream.
