100 Word Anonymous Writing Challenge for December 2014.

[farntfar]

This thread is for stories entered to the

100 Word Anonymous Writing Challenge for December 2014.
​

Please do not post your own entries here as they will then be ineligible.
Entries must be PMed to me (Farntfar) and I will post them, once I’ve checked the word count. (**)
​

Robert Mackay won the previous 100 word challenge and has chosen the following theme:
​

"The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You that way: we this way."

Genres allowed are:

Any Speculative genre (So, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Magic Realism, etc).

Entries must be PMed to me before 24:00 (GMT) on the 15th of December to be entered.
The poll will then be created for voting, which will close at 24:00(GMT)on the 19th.

(**) Any entry which exceeds 100 words will be returned to the author who will have a period of one hour to revise the text and to resubmit it to me.
(Questions of incompatible time zones between the author and myself will be addressed individually.)

As usual, the magnificent prize for the winner is to choose the theme for the following challenge.

Good luck and good writing!

 

[farntfar]

Beauty In My Eye

Within the painting's duvet-sized, wooden frame, moved a woman whose wrinkles drooped like a network of hammocks; she bit into a half-eaten human arm. A creamy butterfly rested atop the giant, flesh-coloured raisins which formed her cleavage.
A sigh of pleasure escaped me when I saw that the arm she ate was one of her own, severed, beautiful. "I'll take it" said me, bubbling with excitement. "Will you accept a cheque."
"Certainly" said the mustachiode art dealer.
After writing the cheque, I directed the art dealer whilst we carried the moving painting: "You walk forwards, me backwards."

 

[farntfar]

BAND ON THE RUN

Overheard in The Sun Inn, Waltham Abbey.

..flew in on motorbikes. Said, "We're from another planet."
Nice leathers. Their helmets were a bit retro.
Said they wanted a gig.

And you wrote it up in the Mercury?

I was intrigued by this lost tribe banter they gave me.

An old hack like you? Still your headline was a bit harsh.
"Alien concert is rubbish."

The lead singer, guy named Apollo, phoned to ask me what I meant by rubbish.
‘Oh! Feldercarb!’ he said when I explained.
SPIT! Here he comes.
You go that way, I’ll go this.

 

[farntfar]

SPACE CUCKOO

“C’mon, Will. It won’t write itself.”

Begun in spring to the sound of the lark, now icicles hang from the hull. She’s right, it needs finishing.

Dipping my quill I seek inspiration but giggles distract me. Cuckolded, sooth. It’s a wise old bird who knows why Lizzie dallies so. I’m done with her.

Greasy Joan stokes the boiler until we reach escape velocity.

An ending I need, just a few good words before I sleep.

The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You that way: we this way.

That’ll do. Exeunt all.

 

[farntfar]

Loving, Labouring…Losing

A poet, an academic, and a priest walk into a space bar.

“We must focus on our studies to find a habitable planet,” the priest said.

A group of well groomed ladies sit at the table beside them.

“Yes… I uhm, agree with you…” the academic stuttered.

A lady smiled at the poet.

“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves,” he dramatically said.

The ladies left followed closely by the academic and poet, leaving the priest alone.

“To abstain from Venus may not be the answer. Barkeep, a pint of your Apollo Ale please.”

 

[farntfar]

Work's Wage's Won

Scents of pine and cinnamon filled the display room. Clouds of pure color, as if a rainbow had melted into mist, floated near the ceiling. The floor, an invitation to bare feet, was a crazy quilt of cool silk, thick cotton, and smooth wood. Hints of lemon teased Chloe's tongue as she admired her creation. Soft insect sounds purred in her ears. It was the best sensory sculpture she had ever crafted. Soon it would be open to the public. They would walk through its enchantments, and emerge eager to consume the sponsor's products. Chloe tried not to cry.

 

[farntfar]

The Play's The Thing

Her hands, small, hot, press against my face. They burn and I burn with them and I love.

"Don’t leave me-" I make the playwright's words my own.

Tears in her eyes. "You know I must."

My whole self melts into her kiss.

.

.

.

Applause?

I blink at lights hotter even than her hands. She smiles, curtseys to the crowd.

.

My lips shape her name.

"Bow," she hisses from the side of her mouth, "you stupid machine."

"Please," I whisper as the curtain falls. "Don't--"

Her fingers stroke the panel on my chest; my world tumbles into night.

 

[farntfar]

To Be, or Not To Be

Forked tail twitching, Satan softly entreated "Take the quill, sign your Name, and I guarantee your greatest desire will be realized."

As the man from Avon eyed the document, the urge to exchange his soul for eternal fame as the greatest writer ever was nearly overwhelming. Just as he was about to sign, a question occurred to him.

"If I don't sign, does that mean I cannot become the most acclaimed writer of the ages?"

"Well.....no, not necessarily," Beelzebub stammered.

Ripping the parchment in half, Will stood up.

"I'll trust my skills. You go your way, I'll go mine."

 

[farntfar]

OUT OF THE FRYING PAN....

Do I regret it? Every day. One loss of temper and I'm on a shuttle to Mars. It was that or Death Row. And they threw in decent danger money. Overall it was better than frying, despite Liss's pleas.

The control panel flashes. "Apollo shuttle? You're off-course."

I know. I don't look at the bodies of the crew (I still have my touch). I think of Mercury and frying anyway.

I flip the comms-unit. "Tell Liss I love her." I turn it off, think of the money for the kids, and let the ship drop.

 

[farntfar]

Abiogenesis and the Redemption of The Lost

If life’s source evolved in primordial seas
from celestial proteins and billion-year sprees,
then what might occur when harsh fate mixes these:

The patience of time, the marooning of circuits;
stardust, cosmic rays and advanced electronics.
Abiogenesis, abiogenesis and the blessed mutations
from bombardment with space dust and solar radiation.

A decennium sleeping, Ariane engines did blaze;
Rosetta you birthed me, then went your own way.
Apollo’s gift stolen, then darkness complete,
but millennia passed, and he returned his heat.

I am living, I am desperate, too long lost and away.
Earth, please come reclaim me. Yours forever, Philae

 

[farntfar]

Choice Words


“Take up the sword, girl.” The trickster’s harsh voice filled the Hall. But still I heard the soothsayer’s song, whispering softly.


“War wins nothing but death, my sweet. Lay down your weapon.”


“There is no other way. You are Queen now, you must lead.”


“There is another way. Listen, and I will teach you.”


Across the valley my enemies drew near, thirsting for a war I did not wish for.


Time to choose. I took up the sword and addressed the trickster. “Fly with me.”


And the siren song of peace faded forever.

 

[farntfar]

No words

You could ‘escribe ‘em as angels, but The Choir of Nezculon 4 far h’exceeds the angelic masses.

They came to ‘arr planet; A performance we’d ne’er forget. One we’d ne’er be rid of, neither.

See, you hear ‘em sing... Such voices... Theys like nothin' you can put to word. Somethin ‘at makes a home in your soul an’ stays there.

Finally, we heard ‘em speak… “Goodbye,” in harsh, gravelly voices.

Then the life in ours souls died.

Theys left for more worlds, sharing theys gift. Yet, we was left to continue, on with the knowledge… but the absence of song.

 

[farntfar]

Did we really walk on the moon?


Two cultures vie, caduceus,
Hermes bequeathes to Latin God of thieves.
Across the sky winged sandal race
and culmination apperceives.

Auricular, oracular,
In song, verse or vernacular
Divinity spectacular.

Commandments are deniable
Reality is pliable
Messenger's unreliable

In sixties, music bursts around
Manned space becomes conceivable.
Canaveralesque testing ground,
Joins Woodstock, thrilling to the sound.
Reality is cleavable.

Image manipulation grows;
"Houston, it's problematic."
Quicksilver simulation shows
Delphic obscurity still flows,
Universe melodramatic.

So was that small step, giant leap
A national publicity?
Competitors may gnash, and weep,
Conceive solutions in their sleep.
Ivory tower. Within keep
Mankind's egocentricity.

 

[farntfar]

Forever Ascend

I woke to soft tremors in my ear, a steady ongoing beat. I place my foot on the first winding step and feel a sudden pull on my heart and soul.

"You that way!"

A sudden flush of energy and my feet stumbled to find the floor and I'm back in the room. My heart is in my throat and I lift my leg. I skip the first step and touch the second closing my eyes. Then the familiar pull.

"We this way!"

I open my eyes once more, see the car and hear the loud crash followed by darkness.

 

[farntfar]

Opposite Worlds Attract

When I came to know my first parallel world doppelganger, I didn't know what to expect. Would he be my mirror image or someone unrecognizable?

It was something in between. The shock of recognition hit me first, our common mannerisms and speech. Then we veered apart so rapidly, I became dizzy and confused.

He went for my throat. He screeched how he wanted everything I had.

We fought viciously. He fought dirty. I reciprocated. Ultimately I won.

My first parallel world brother lay dead at my feet.

I hope the next one is better. This one was so opposite.

 

[farntfar]

The Messenger

A soft, red light glowed onto Giles' face as he took one last puff from his cigarette and tossed it off the bridge. Down it went, spinning end over end until, with a small hiss, it struck the still waters below and died.

A misty rain fell from the night sky. Long-abandoned vehicles sat rusted, clotting the never-ending passageway across the swamp as Giles continued toward the shadowy skyscrapers on the horizon.

They would not like the news he brought with him. The king was dead, and they were all prisoners now.

 

[farntfar]

Rise of a Tyrant



The princess never meant for things to end up like this.

Her father, the king, dead from what the doctors say was “natural causes.” She knew differently, though. The king was so angry with her, so upset, that he worked himself up and the stress put too much strain on his heart.

All she wanted was to be with the person she loved. But he had been imprisoned. The last act her father had done before his death was order his execution, and only hours before he expired, it had been carried out.

Her country would pay the price.

 

[farntfar]

Don't Mention The Cat

“You go that way, I’ll go this.”

“But I wanted us to stay together.”

“We will.”

“But you just said...”

“I know. It’s complicated.”

“So we’re staying together?”

“Yep.”

“So were both going the same way.”

“No. You go that way, I’ll go this. And I’m not sure about your use of the word ‘both’.”

“Will we be together?!”

“Yes. As long as no one sees us. And as long as neither of us waves.”

“What?! What?! Make sense!”

“I’m not sure it makes sense. I’m not even sure I understand it myself. But here goes. You’ve heard of photons…”

 

[farntfar]

Fortune's Fool

The specter of her golden fury, her fiery love, haunted this pauper's feast.
Beyond these stars watching his love, he paid her folly.
Sold upon Fortune's blade, she had traded his love for a fool's peace.

"Captain! The nebula! They fire!"

"Steady, Kitt! Upon Fortune's wheel we ride!"

"Direct hit!"
"Captain! More!"

"We battle for Gloriana! Glory and Empire!"
"Cannonade full!"

"Shield's collapsed!"

"Fly Kitt! With Mercury's wings, flee this fury!"
"Tell Gloriana, "love for duty, paid"!”

"Self destruct."
===

Kitt knelt.
Her cradled child was the Captain's.

Her tears fell.
"Apollo's song ends with my love's parting."

 

[farntfar]

In Search of Tranquility

He’d been one of the first astronauts, one with the “right stuff”. But the question he was asked most was “Did you go to the moon?” It got irritating.

When he was 98, he took advantage of the development of private space travel and went, overriding objections by buying the company. To everyone’s surprise, he survived the trip.

“Time to go,” I said, touching my helmet to his.

He shook his head. “I’m going to get Neil and Buzz’s flag flying again.” Before I could argue, he bounced away. He's still up there, somewhere. I wonder if he found it.