There are some things that we question, and know that sometimes there is no true answer.
How do you fold a fitted sheet?
Is cursive handwriting still necessary?
When does sour cream go bad?
Is a Baker’s Dozen a good thing, or bad?
Why does Mapquest™ start directions from my driveway?
Inquiring minds want to know 😉
Here in Texas, we enjoy some rather out-dated laws:
It is illegal for one to shoot a buffalo from the second story of a hotel.
It is illegal to sell one’s eye.
The entire Encyclopaedia Britannica is banned in Texas because it contains a formula for making beer at home.
It is illegal to urinate on The Alamo.
It is illegal to milk another person’s cow.
It is illegal to own an alligator without a permit.
It is illegal to modify the weather without a permit.
It is also illegal to try to modify the weather without first putting a notice in the local paper.
I have to admit, I’m intrigued at the gator permit. I wonder how one goes about asking for one 😉
Before I link the stories that so far have been written, I wish to thank all of you who participated, and those who are also planning on participating in the challenge. It isn’t always easy to find inspiration, especially when a harridan gives you a deadline. But I also wish to thank the readers for finding and lurking around our blogs. I hope y’all were as entertained as I was.
Here is a list of the stories written for the challenge, so far:
Autumn People: The Stockyard Girl
Epic Entropy: Rendezvous at Eight
Fountain Abbey: One Rainy Day (Part 1)
Jay in Ames: The Sithy Challenge
Lemur King’s Folly: The Starkness of Being
Reluctant Rebel: Nightmarish Morning
Snugg Harbor: A Recollection of December (Part 1)
Soylent Green: The Transmogrifier: A Tale Of Terror
The Necromancer: Glances could kill. Love was outlawed.
Third World County: Well, It Ain’t Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder
Yabu: Merced Recibida, Libertad Vendida
Make sure you stop by, and hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have. I can’t wait to read the rest!
It was cold. She sat in the room, waiting her turn. Looking around in apprehension, she bleakly noticed how even the total whiteness of the room seem to clash with everything. Her eyes roamed, noticing the small details: the crack in the ceiling, the pulled loop in the carpet, even the peeling of the veneer on the bottom of the door.
The same door that would soon open, just for her.
Tensing at the thought, she tried vainly to think of good things, sweet things. She would give anything to be outside in the sun right now, letting the rays warm her again. But she had disobeyed. At first, it was so easy to adhere to the rules. Monotonous, even. But that monotony was the start of her disquiet. The need arose for something else to fill the void and the awful taste of it. One rule broken, just a small rule, just once, led to sneaking, and lying, and to where she sat now: awaiting her punishment. Her shoulders ached from the tension, her teeth chattered from the cold, her hands rubbed almost raw. Stealing a glance at her mother, she wondered what she was thinking. Her mother sat silently, staring straight ahead, her eyes far away, as if she could see through the awful white wall. She was afraid to say anything, afraid to break the spell that kept her mother silent. She would give anything to turn the clock back, to go back to before and to obey the simple rules. It was too late, she knew that. Now she was here, and she had to go through with it.
The clock mocked her, refusing to move its hands faster. She prayed quietly, the fervent litany cut short by voices emanating from beyond the door. She noticed the marks on the doorknob, wondering how they were made, feeling her heart stop as she realized they looked like claw marks. –This is a nightmare–, she thought. –A nightmare of your own making–, said the little voice inside her. –Shut up, Shut Up, SHUT UP!!!–, her mind screamed. She could feel the hot tears behind her eyelids. She heard the knob turning, her fear freezing her mind and her eyes watching the slow turn of the knob, counter-clockwise and grinding in her ears. Her mother stood up, resigned and looking so tired, turning to her and gesturing for her to get up. The time had finally come. She looks up to find a young woman, starched and rather pretty, smiling down at her. She swallows hard, the woman’s words ringing in her ears as she slides past:
I have been asked to extend the challenge date by a few days. It seems that some of you prefer to write a more in-depth story than *ahem* some of us. I think mine was going to be three paragraphs, tops. Possibly four, if the wine is good.
If you want to post it on Monday, that’s fine. But those who need longer can just post any time this week. And since this is a short post, I might as well show you what I almost bought today.
That sound you hear is Hubby sighing in relief.
Have fun writing!
A few days ago, I was shopping at the mall for a couple of birthday presents. Ahead of me in line was an older lady, buying a gift for her teenage granddaughter. She had been rung up when she noticed the little tubes of handcream by the register, and asked if she could add one to her sale. The salesgal said sure, but she would have to re-ring the whole thing again, and it was no trouble as long as the lady wasn’t in a hurry. Without a thought, I told her to put it on my purchase, so that the lady wouldn’t have to wait. The lady turned to me and said it wasn’t necessary, and I told her it was no bother, since I didn’t want her inconvenienced. She smiled and thanked me, and as she completed her sale, she took my hand and blessed me for my kindness.
I admit that stunned me a bit. I didn’t practice a kindness, as far as I was concerned. A courtesy? Yes, that’s what my parents taught us to do. But offering to purchase a little tube of handcream doesn’t elevate to a kindness in my book. It saddened me a bit to think that she thought it was, because perhaps she doesn’t experience kindnesses often. Sometimes we are in too much of a hurry to help others, and slowing down a bit can help put things in a better perspective.
The Golden Rule™: It’s where it’s at 😉
I have done lists, I have done letters, and I have done open threads.
But I have yet to write a short story.
I’ll admit, I have a very fertile imagination. And it does tend to run away before I can tether it to the medulla oblongata. I think it comes with the melodrama gene. My teachers in high school always loved my short stories, and college professors borrowed them for their own classes. In retrospect that could have been a bad thing, but I like to pretend they were flattering me.
So here is my challenge to my blogger friends: write a simple short story. No word limit, no theme in particular. Just whatever you fancy writing, and post at your blog on Monday.
As always, just enjoy what you write, and if y’all go the scary route, please by all that is holy, give me a warning, ok?? 😀
UPDATE: for those of you that wish to participate but don’t have a blog, I will feature the stories here, just leave a comment and I’ll send you my email!
It never fails. No matter where we move to, there is always some plant or tree that acts weird in my yard. I had a calla lily that Hubby bought for me when Son was born. I planted that outside our front door, and that thing bloomed like it was on radioactive steroids. I blamed it for giving me false hope about ever growing plants. In Germany, I had dusty millers that grew into bushes, causing my German neighbors to take me to task for letting them get out of hand. In reality, they were supposed to grow to 5 inches in height, not take over the garden. I ended up yanking them out completely. Oh, and foxglove made an appearance in the back garden. My next door neighbor kindly pointed out that it was poisonous. I kindly pointed out that it was a feature, not a bug.
And now, my tree won’t give up its leaves. I thought it was a fluke last year, since it was warm late in autumn here, but no. My tree is the only one that is clinging bitterly to its leaves, even after the windstorm we had last night.
There are other trees in the neighborhood that still have leaves, but not many deciduous ones. Sigh…. my tree can’t even defoliate right….
For me, dreaming is an adventure. Last night I dreamt I was in Paris, France!!
And that’s where the romance ended.
I’m in a boutique salon, run by my sister, who isn’t there, because she is off touring a canal for a pair of shoes (??), and I am waiting to have a dress fitting and a haircut, because there is no such thing as nepotism, and someone steals my purse and my dog, and I can only find the purse shell, which has a bunch of markers in it, and I’m walking around in a smock, with my hair in weird rollers, asking people if they have seen my purse, and someone points outside, so out I go, only to see two Mexicans (they had shirts with Mexican flags and they read “Proud Mexican” in French) walking my dog, and I run over and ask them why they have my dog, and they give me the dog and tell me the PLO was giving them away over at the park, so I run to the park and see them distributing dogs that they are buying on the internet with my credit card, causing me to call the Embassy to cancel the credit card, which makes the PLO very mad, and they in turn put a fatwa on my head, and I yell at them that my head isn’t very pretty right now so they have to wait, so they pencil me in for Tuesday.
This is the part where I wake up, look at the clock, and realize I have one more hour of sleep to enjoy. And as I drift off to sleep, I am jolted awake by the thought that today is Tuesday!! But eventually I calm down and fall asleep again, because I am not a machete-wielding zombie killer for nothing 😉
Well, not really a guess, but another list. This time it’s the Five People With Whom I Would Like to Have Dinner™. Our blogger friend Yabu left a list at his blog, and this being a Sunday, I thought I would follow suit and post mine. It’s either that, or my latest scrapbook project. I figured y’all would like the list more.
Ok, now to explain a few things on my list. When I invite these people to my table, they have to bring their significant other if they have one, because in my opinion they help to define the person they are. So no, I wouldn’t just have the one person here. And as for the bloggers, I have met quite a few of you already, so my list was decidedly shorter than most. Also, I opted to not have big name bloggers on my list, mostly because the image versus reality thing would clash too much for me. We little bloggers are far more realistic 😉
If you decide to make a list, leave a link or list here, and also over by Bad Bad Juju!
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