NOVEMBER 2020 75-word Writing Challenge -- VICTORY TO PARSON!

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Danny McG

Needs more cowbell
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RULES:

Write a story inspired by the chosen theme and genre in no more than 75 words, not including the title

ONE entry per person

NO links, commentary or extraneous material in the posts, please -- the stories must stand on their own


WHEN WRITING YOUR STORY, PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS A FAMILY-FRIENDLY FORUM

All stories Copyright 2020 by their respective authors
who grant the Chronicles Network the non-exclusive right to publish them here


The complete rules can be found at
RULES FOR THE WRITING CHALLENGES

Contest ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 23 November 2020
Voting ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 28 November 2020

You do not have to submit a story in order to vote -- in fact, we encourage all Chrons members to take part in choosing a winner


The Magnificent Prize:

The Dignified Congratulations/Grovelling Admiration of Your Peers
and the challenge of choosing next month's theme and genre


Theme:

Transportation


Genre:

Beatnik/Hippy/Surfer



This thread to be used for entries only. Please keep all comments to the Discussion thread - November 2020 75-word writing challenge


We invite (and indeed hope for) lively discussion and speculation about the stories as they are posted,
as long as it doesn't involve the author explaining the plot


** Please do not use the "Like" button in this thread! **
 
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Victoria Silverwolf

Vegetarian Werewolf
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Chattanooga, Tennessee, USA
nowheresville

corner of yesterday and next week and the tarantula kid says bad scene and cuts out leaving yours truly and doctor annie stranded in no time with no time left so the doc revs up the motor vroom vroom and we cruise uptime downtime crosstime until all the clocks have gone dali soft and then your humble servant says cool it annie babe this is too tesseract for me but too late we gone square
 

Ashleyne

Wishes she was funny
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DUDE

I see the clouds, man. Grey clouds filling up the wrinkles of your brain, spilling from your ears and you keep stuffing ‘em back in. Just let ‘em go, dude, let ‘em float out. I know you can’t feel it now, man, I’ve been there, done that . It’s a journey, but when you get there, there won’t be a cloud in sight, dig? It’ll be your own private happy space. You’ll get there.
 

Astro Pen

Write now.
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Wales UK
Astrid
The herbs were working. I started to astral travel. Up, across the river.
Landing, I met a girl. She had long blonde curls and coloured fireflies in her hair that sparkled in many colours like Christmas lights.
She tilted her head, smiling, then walked away with fairy grace, spinning like a dancer, exuding the confidence of the queen that the fireflies had chosen, leading me on into the star lit ink of the autumn night.
 

jd73

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Oct 22, 2020
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dig # so when i jumped a class iv or was it v miner to elspering xi to dodge them payments the last thing i xpected was that theyd put me 2 work i mean look at me no arm mussles nuthin just useless skin how ironic that i like dug up the conquia jool whilst pullin overtime and them alimonies mean squat now but i cant get no ride back i mean me doing overtime really? # 75w excl.
 
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Bren G

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The End Credits

Lone Starr angled the Eagle 5 Winnebago into orbit of the planet.

“Look Barf.” Thousands of stars dimmed before them.

“Whoaa!” replied the man-dog. ”Universe is collapsing, fast! How much time?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Well. I got just the thing to transport us far away.”

Barf handed him a spliff. They lit up and hauled on them, giggling like school girls.

“Gimme-Paw!” Lone Starr said, as they high-fived for the last time, shouting with glee.

WOOO-WOOO-WOOO!
 

Abernovo

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The Wave-Sweeper

There's this legendary surf kayaker called Man. Not 'The Man', just Man. He rides his boat, sweeping the waves before him.

They say he was seen catching a break out by St Kilda and, four hours later, passed by Tiree before heading towards Ireland.

Surfers, kayakers, windsurfers, whatever, he's the one we all want to be like. Like a god of the sea on his mystic ride. He's out there, on the edge. Man.
 

Parson

This world is not my home
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Iowa
Hospital Ward 1957

“Yo, man! You awake?"

“Yeah.”

“You look busted and broken, for real!”

“Yeah, been hurt’n three days. Tain’t been no picnic, Jo Boy.”

“How’d you wind up in that smash-ola anyway? Were you thumb’in?”

“Yep, thumbed down a geezer in a lizzy. We came to a crossroads and the old dude asks, ‘Anything coming?’”

"I say 'Big dog man, big dog.'"

A dog put you in the hospital!?

“Man, it was a Greyhound.”
 

Provincial

Coyote meets roadrunner
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Jun 18, 2020
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Essex, UK
Keeping it real.

“Hey dude, check this out!”

Manny, toking afloat on his surf board, raised his head. LeRoy’s board was surrounded by dolphins.

“They’re talking to me,” said LeRoy. “They like me!”

“You’re wasted, dude” drawled Manny. “Dolphins don’t talk.”

“They’re heading home now, and I’m hitching a ride. This is rad!”

A smooth cylinder of water slid upwards; dolphins inside, LeRoy on top. Manny watched it disappear over the horizon, then flopped down again.

“Wasted, dude.”
 

Peter V

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London
Beam Me up, Scotty

"Dude, Rick never went on any spaceship. The man's a stoner."

"What about his detailed technological description of the vessel?"

"Probably tripping on acid.”

"The puncture wounds?"

"Seriously?” Brad looked at Dwight’s needle scarred forearm.

"The sunburn down one side of his face?"

"Okay, that's harder to explain. But man, you got to accept this is seriously strong sh*t.” Brad handed the joint back to Dwight.

“Though I will admit, that dematerialisation was far out.”
 

chrispenycate

resident pedantissimo
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It don't mean a thing, (if it ain't got that bling)

"Eh, mon" Stroking gold-painted limo like it were chick, "That's class, innit. How far it go on a tankful?"
"Dunno. Can't pay a tankful. Car's to respect, not go places. Got a righteous back seat - already baptised her."
"Fit yer gear in?"
"Ain't going to no gigs with her, notime. Get scratched for sure. Sound system amps, I carry me guitar."
"Tranny, c'n put in a mattress."
" Tranny? Got no style. This the works."
 

Daysman

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east of the crooked house, south of weddell wynd
Smile @ Infinity

Minute I entered the bridge, Ginger offered up a toke.

I grinned and hunkered down in the focus cube. "Not today."

She laughed. "Hey, dude, don't you pilots need a perma high to visualise a jump?"

I tapped the bump switch behind my ear. "Got so lost on the Wolf Road last trip, the Company, they fit a dosing chip."

"And how's that panning out?"

I hooked into the navigational interface. "Coolest… gig... ever..."
 
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Marvin

Paranoid Mandroid
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UK
Peace Out

Joined up with a cool gang of cats on their way to the base.
We gonna make some trouble up where they’re shooting our young’uns into space to fight for the man.
Dyin’ over some rock out there, nuffin changes.

#

Strapped in, the ship blasts off. Absolutely buzzing, can’t wait to get out there; kick some enemy butt.
Memory’s a bit hazy, those guys at the base must have some fantastic recruiting skills.
Tally-ho!
 

Elckerlyc

"Philosophy will clip an angel's wings."
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If You’re Going to Woodstock...

“A van, a van! Free weed for a Volkswagen Camper Van!”
“Hey dude, you’ve been smoking the lot?”
“No man, listen! Me and Bobby wanna go to Bethel.”
“Where?”
Bethel, man! Stairway to Heaven.”
“Huh?”
“New York State, dopehead! A mind blowing blast! Three days of Peace & Music! Heaven!”
“It’s a hype, dupe.”
“It sure is! And we gotta be there when it happens. Just need wheels.”
“A Volkswagen Camper?”
“Hey, right on, man!”
 

Danny McG

Needs more cowbell
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Yugoslavia 1968

I pulled my VW to the kerb beside this foxy chick
“Hey babe, I’m heading into Belgrade if you wanna ride”

Her face lit up and she climbed in, turning to throw her tote over.

Just then my bean curds and lentils lunch let rip; a fart as loud as a Hendrix opening chord.

She leapt back out, splitting the scene as the pungent smell arose.

Man, what a gas.
 
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Droflet

I don't teach chickens how to dance.
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Australia
Today, Today.
"So, how do you know this, man"
"I'm a time traveler from the future."
"Radical, man."
I nodded.
"So, what's the future like?"
"It's the best of times and the worst of times." I continued for some time to tell them about the worst of times.
"That won't happen, man. Our generation won't let the establishment win."
It seemed pointless to tell these idealistic young people that within twenty years, they would be the establishment.
 

wagtail

Active Member
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Sep 29, 2020
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Australia
Return Trip

The kid might have blended in with his black turtleneck, but the beret and bongos got him reported. Another breach in the Beat portal.

“What’s the word, Daddy-o?” he asks, still patting away at his drums.

“I’m sending you on a little trip.” I scan him and punch 1957 into my Vers-One.

He looks at me. Smiles. Says, “Dig you, crazy cat.”

I tuck away my tail before anybody else can notice. Press Send.
 

BT Jones

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Feb 12, 2020
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386
Location
Australia
One Last Wave

“Ready dude?”
Jai didn’t respond, focused on the wave building behind and the needle poised at his arm.

“Now!” cried Brent, hopping into a squat.
The breaker roared, the surfboard soared, Jai injected.

A minute later, the pair drifted to shore. Jai smiled – his first in years. “Totally bodacious.”
Then he was still.

As the hospice crew waded in to assist, Brent rolled Jai onto his back and clenched his hand.
“Laters, surf bro.”
 

Guttersnipe

logolept
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Dec 28, 2019
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414
Location
Limbo
If Astronomers Were Groovy

From Starship Jefferson:
"Hey, Dreamchild, pass the herb."
"You got it, Lovestar."
Lovestar took a hit and adjusted the Quantum Telescope.
"Dude," he said to Dreamchild, "Check this out."
The man took his place and looked. In the lense was a blue and green planet.
"Forests of sweetleaf! Wow, groovy! Potentially peaceful race? New friends?"
"Yeah, I dig it."
"Problem is, it's billions of lightyears away and in a higher dimension."
"Woah, that's far out."
 
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Cat's Cradle

Time, now, to read...
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2,690
HANG TEN

“Get the surfers!”
It’s a twisted game of hide and seek – we run, seeking sanctuary, and mobs chase us wielding weapons instead of goodwill.
I’m not sure why things changed; there’d been posters demanding we leave the beach, then some referendum ... and the hunting.
I’m grabbed from hiding behind bushes and thrown into a van. It takes the service road toward the old prison. I’m surrounded by woebegone surfers.
I count and we’re now ten.
 
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