75 WORD CHALLENGE - February 2012 -- TERESA WINS!!!!

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re: 75 WORD CHALLENGE - February 2012 -- VOTE! -- READ LAST POST!

Transference

I lay at her feet, caressing them, kissing them. Like a lap dog, her every wish was my command. She hardly noticed me these days, her mind elsewhere.

Her eyes sparkled like sapphires when he came into view. Her smile beamed like sunshine rays. Her heart bursting with pride, she held out her arms and he ran into them. She ruffled his blond hair, kissed his forehead, her son.

And I knew I’d been replaced.
 
re: 75 WORD CHALLENGE - February 2012 -- VOTE! -- READ LAST POST!

The Death of an Angel

They left the angel bleeding into the ground, his cries going unheard as he passed. As the sun set, the woodland came to life. Many creatures came and surrounded Nisroc, pushing up close to him, keeping him warm in his dying moments. That night, a light could be seen for miles around, encompassing the clearing, shining out over the forest. By morning nothing remained but a small blood stain at the base of the pillar.
 
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Have No Fear, Salvation Draws Nigh​

The chant - it is everything. Low and droning, an unearthly humming, like nothing a human being can produce. It is his storm anchor, it fills his mind with the divine name as he clings to its endless invocation.

Outside, blood and chaos, but that is not his to ponder. He can not falter.

Piercing screams drift through the high window - his voice wavers, then surges. Crushing blows to the door. He does not run. Salvation awaits.
 
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Goddess After the Apocalypse

No living soul knew how the huge white marble columns of the ancient temple had been raised, for the Fall had made technology into long-forgotten myth.

No living soul knew their holiest temple had once been a courthouse.

Only one living soul knew of the police armoury in the basement. The mortal Goddess achieved her divinity with night-vision goggles, impact armour, and a sniper rifle.
 
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re: 75 WORD CHALLENGE - February 2012 -- VOTE! -- READ LAST POST!

The Seeker

“You’re a coward.”
Three simple little words that hurt more than the time he’d been caught in a gambull stampede. He stopped in the doorway and glared back at her.
“Alex failed. If a Seeker doesn’t get through to get help, the Mendasians will continue attacking the colony. I’m doing this for everyone!”
“You’re doing it for yourself! You’ve searched for a way to die for so long. Try finding a reason to live.”
 
re: 75 WORD CHALLENGE - February 2012 -- VOTE! -- READ LAST POST!

And so it was written

 
A feather fluttered past a young elf, eagerly she picked it up looking skyward. “Is that him?” she asked cheerfully pointing toward a huge beast.

The old prophecy lay in front of the elderly elf on some parchment, Sacrifice your youngest each decade for immortality.

“Yes” he answered solemnly as the beast swooped down, maw open only to swallow up the aging elf. Unfortunately he didn’t read the fine print, but not before offering yourself.
 
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A heart of stone

A pebble, lifted from the beach, is lovingly held between twisted fingers covered in years of grime. A curse . . . or a prayer, I cannot be sure which, then the stone is dropped, to be replaced by another.

And another. And so it goes on.

Back stooped, clothes in rags. For years he has searched to break the spell. His lover waits, a memory now, a pebble amongst a zillion others.
 
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Book Bound

When the seas were poisoned they created new, complex filter systems.

The food turned bad and we had to have specialised greenhouses to monitor everything.

Then the poison seeped into paper. The books burned.

I held them closer, feeling the familiar weight, breathing in the smell of many years and many rooms.

In this wasteland I would rather die in painful, pleasurable increments then abandon the worlds where life is still good.
 
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The Fresh Flowers

She awoke to the smell of flowers freshly cut sitting on the night stand. They were the widows favorite; from far in the forest and on top a green hill. Her husband would get them for her birthday. It took him so long he would set out a day before. But now she was alone, and had been so for a year.
 
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The Day Food Talked Back.

“What shall I have for breakfast?” She rhetorically mumbled.

“I’ll make you sick if you eat me!” Cried Chicken Salad. “So help me, I will!!”

“Please, not me!” Plead Bananas “I’ve only got a week left to live.”

Dumbfounded the woman stared at her food.

“You may eat me.” Came a succulent voice from the refrigerator.

“Why?” She asked as she opened it.

“Because, I love you.” Replied Spinach Bacon Quiche.

So she did.
 
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The Long Wait


They're coming for me.

They know I didn't do it; but my signed confession made it easy for the prosecution. Now I die in another's place; the guilty walk free.

Guilty? I was there when it happened, and if I'd got the gun first, I'd have shot him myself. Intent is admissable.

So now I die. Gladly.

If there's an afterlife, I'll wait. If not, I'm still content.

I couldn't have lived without her, anyway.
 
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Juliet

"You can't follow where I lead," he told me, "I have to do this alone." I smiled and pretended to understand.

I hope he's wrong.

It's far too late now for second thoughts. Far too late for any hope of rescue, they'll never get here in time.

We were star-touched.

I'll be there soon.
 
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Long Term Fidelity
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"Wait! Let me do that." Smiling at the nurse, he palmed the pill, substituting his own.

"My wife is ill, but I’ll do anything so things work out."

When she died her grieving husband assured everyone the vast fortune was little compensation.

Later counting the money, she returned to him. A ghostly presence who reminded him, "Since you took care of me dear, it is only fitting that now I take care of you. Forever!

 
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I second that emotion

‘Captain Fantastic,’ said the princess, ‘you used your superpowers to traverse time and hyperspace, from your utopian future to this hellish post-apocalyptic society. You saved me from zombie hordes, unleashed by the radioactive might of the apocalypse. You found me though the fell magic of the warrior-caste priests had changed the path of history itself! Why!’


‘Er, just wondered if you might like to go out? For a bit of dinner.’


‘Sorry. Washing my hair.’
 
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Eyes That Don’t Lie

I’ve known people that could barely pass the Touring test.
Companion bot BETA-08-F was so much more.

Storing it with a BETA-07-M after initial testing was the first mistake.
We apprehended them at a wedding chapel. I asked the 07 why.
It replied, “She said she would do anything for me and the look in her eyes convinced me.”

I’ve ordered both to be decommissioned. If I can’t have her no one will.

...
 
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Consequences.

"But my wife... my kids..."

Death shrugged, watching the firemen cut into the burning car. "Out of my hands."

"I can't leave them. Not now!"

Death wordlessly shifted his grip on his scythe. The dead man wrenched it from his hands and swung the blade into him with all his might.

Then a light, blinding.

Inside the car, Michael drew his first breath in what felt like forever.

In a nearby cemetery, a similar story.
 
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Chrons​

United in their love for the bizarre and wonderful, the bar was the place to go. An escape from the world, kindred souls brought together where they could laugh and chat.

The strangest of beings - Lovecraftian monsters, to mice, orange dragons and Teddy Bears.

Those that worked there did freely and for love of what they did; while the big man worked tirelessly upstairs, there if needed.

Who would not want to keep coming back?
 
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Marduk’s Eternal Duty

He watched the projectile coming. His ward, almost out of sight, would be safe. Her frail beauty protected by his stormy bulk.

Satisfied; he made no attempt to evade it. He never did.

Impact!

Explosive agony erupted in him; resonating throughout his vast expanse.

Afterwards, as always, her distant serene presence eased his slow, painful convalescence. Gazing across the great void, he savoured the ever-changing enchantment of her alabaster clouds swirling over the azure oceans.
 
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THE DEAD CAN WEEP​

In the ruins of New York, the dead walked, ghosts haunting ghosts. The wind wailed along the streets of broken buildings. The ghosts spoke in whispers.

Two met amidst the twisted girders.

“I loved you forty years,” he said, “but never dared to speak.”

“And I loved you.”

A heart that doesn’t beat can still be broken. “A lifetime wasted!”

The dead speak; they cannot touch. She smiled behind her tears. “Now we have eternity.”
 
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2087 – Back to the Catacombs

Rachel scurried down the alley. Furtively, she looked behind. If the Radical Secularists caught her, they might kill her. Accusations alone would guarantee that she would lose her job. In a world of militant toleration a claim of universal truth was completely untolerated.

She whispered the password and entered a basement. The Gloria Patri rose from her heart to her lips. Few joined in. It mattered not. Her heart provided all the harmony she needed.
 
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