View Full Version : Deadline: Saturday 7th August 2010 (Topsy Turvy Edition)
We're back from a short break, so hopefully we're all feeling refreshed and raring to write! Okaly dokely (I'm watching The Simpsons as I write this :p):
Write an original short story and keep the writing PG-13.
Your entry must be fresh; in other words, please do not submit a pre written piece. Your entry must be written for this event.
Minimum word limit is 250 words, the maximum is 1500.
This week's theme: Nothing is how it should be: in other words, put your character in a situation where everything is out of place. Example, maybe it snows in the summer or dad is doing the cleaning (:p), anything goes really as long as it's out of the ordinary! How does your character react?
All entries must be submitted by Saturday, 7th August 2010, by midnight--your time zone. Late entries are accepted, but no later than noon 8 August 2010.
All who partake must review the other entries posted no later than Sunday, the 8th. Non-participants are always welcome to review. Constructive criticism is encouraged.
Again, if you have a favourite, let me know via PM preferably with a short explanation.
So clean off your keyboard and lets see how well we do looking outside the box. :D
Hmm, sounds most interesting. I hope I can scribble up a little something in my limited time :).
I will probably have a go this time... :)
My effort...not a brill one, my mind couldn't get the right stride. :o
She slammed the door shut again barely able to believe her eyes. Oh dear lord Cherry, she muttered, you have finally gone mad. The flaky paint of the door felt reassuringly rough and she dug her nails into the wood, feeling the flakes sticking into the tips of her fingers. She couldn’t be dreaming; this felt too real. She brushed the flakes off her sweaty hands and watched as the flakes stuck to her jeans. She must have been mistaken.
Cherry licked her lips as her hand crept towards the latch of the door. Don’t be so stupid she told herself. You are awake. The latch felt cold, too cold. Cherry hesitated, she was sure that the door didn’t normally feel like that. She wanted to draw her hand back and rub the feel of the latch off it but stayed frozen to the spot. Don’t be so stupid she told herself again, you will get put away acting like this. She forced herself to turn the latch, her breath suddenly laboured. Then she pulled the door wide and her mind reeled for the second time.
Beyond the door the barren landscape beckoned her and for a moment she felt as if she would fall out the door and be gone into the wastelands. The cold wind whipped at her hair, caressing it, tempting her out. She seemed to hear a voice calling her name in the distance. Cherry pressed her hands either side of the door frame, bracing herself in the doorway. She tried to make sense of the vistas that presented themselves to her eyes. The sky was burnt to an oppressive red, the sun hanging fat and ominously rust coloured. The houses of her neat little road had vanished somehow and were replaced by dust coated dunes. Sharp grasses sprouted from the hillocks pushing their way up towards what light there was. As Cherry stood there trembling she was filled with a fear that threatened to overwhelm her.
Now she knew that she had gone mad, if she turned her head she could see her house looking normal and comforting and yet outside the world had shifted and changed.
Sliding to the ground she lay still, wanting everything to stop, to be able to close her eyes and make it all go away. Jerkily she moved so that she was touching the door and then began pushing it shut. Sweat beaded her forehead and a whimper escaped her but finally she managed to close the door. Jumping up she pressed her back to it, and looked around the room. Everything looked the same as normal. The same pot plants, the same clutter, even the same dust under the tv unit. Nothing was out of place; nothing indicated that the world had shifted outside the safety of her house.
Cherry crawled forward, head down into the living room. She felt a primal urge to curl up in a ball and hide behind the sofa. Maybe someone will come and save me she thought. Another voice hissed in her head asking her who the hell she thought was alive out there.
It had been such a normal day, shower, tea and toast. She suddenly jumped up and grabbed the remote control. The telly flicked on and smiling faces appeared. The breakfast programmes were in full flood. Cherry clasped her hand to her mouth as a bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to spill out. She didn’t even feel her nails were digging into her cheek until she drew her hand slowly away and noticed the smear of blood on her hand.
How long she sat there she didn’t know, yet all the time the television played on in the background. Then her phone rang. Cherry screamed shrilly and then in a panic reached into her pocket, her hands suddenly numb and clumsy.
“Hello! Hello!” her voice was cracking and she licked her lips nervously.
“Cherry, are you there? You are breaking up love! Cherry?”
“I’m here!! Can you hear me?” she screamed.
“Cherry, I can’t hear you. Must be a fault on the line. Sorry love will call back later”
The phone went dead and she hugged it to her chest, hot tears coursing down her cheeks. This was not fair! Her face was a mess of dried blood and tears but she didn’t care anymore. Something had changed and she was the only one to see it. When she dragged herself up to look out the windows she could see nothing at all. But behind her the television relentlessly carried on. She tried ringing people but she couldn’t get through to anyone.
Anger began to flood her being. Things were so very wrong and yet she couldn’t just sit here. Cherry picked herself up and walked once more to the door.
“I have had enough of this,” she muttered, “if I am mad then tough, I can’t sit here for ever.”
She opened the door, again the wind plucked at her hair and she stood on the threshold shivering as she lifted her foot to step out in the unknown. Then the anger flushed through her again sustaining her as she pushed herself onwards out of the house and into the unknown. For one minute she lingered on the threshold and then she was gone
Yay, you entered! I have a story, but it's unfinished. I only started writing it about half an hour ago, so it'll be up as soon as I can, but it'll be after midnight.
Edit: This is something bleh, I managed to type up.
It's a pet's life
It was a bright summer’s morning, perfect conditions for a day outside. Yet Caroline couldn’t bring herself to get out of her cosy bed. She sank further into the squishy mattress and covered her head with the duvet. A few more minutes, that’s all she wanted. A gravelly voice broke into the last moments of a glorious dream of chasing a rabbit through a lush green field. Wait...gravelly voice? Perhaps her dad had a cold.
“Time to get up,” he called.
Caroline groaned and then heaved herself from the bed nearly falling flat on her face when her foot hit floor faster than she’d expected. Her bed appeared to have lost its legs. Rolling to standing, Caroline yelled in surprise to discover herself, not in her lavender decorated bedroom with the fluffy rug and pictures of her favourite stars plastered over the walls, but in the laundry room. And the sight that greeted her made her sink back down into her bed, that had somehow transformed into a dog bed. In the kitchen beyond the gate that separated the laundry room from the kitchen her mum and dad were curled up on the floor. Beside them lay a bowl of water and a space where the food bowl should be. Her pet dog, Biggles, a robust Dalmatian, towered over the gate on two legs.
“That’s a good girl,” Biggles said. “Now go outside to do your business while I get your breakfast.”
Caroline didn’t know what to think. In some sort of trance, her legs apparently operating of their own accord, Caroline went through the gate following Biggles to the back door which he now held open for her. Misty, the family’s Persian cat was sat at the table reading a newspaper while drinking from a mug.
Caroline wondered into the garden, blinking at the bright sun. Maybe a bit of fresh air would wake her up and she’d find herself in her bed – upstairs, as it should be. The slight breeze on her skin did help in making her feel more awake, but, here she was still in her night dress and barefoot, the grass feeling slimy with dew against her skin.
What the heck was she doing out here anyway. Why had she come outside when Biggles had told her to? What was she saying? Biggles couldn’t have told her to do anything, he was a dog. Caroline marched back inside and took a look at the scene that confronted her. Biggles was scraping out brown mush from a can into the red bowl he used, while Misty was still engrossed in her paper.
Caroline sat at the table feeling uneasy about what she was witnessing. Was she hallucinating? Was she going mad? Misty looked up from the paper then and pointed at Caroline and then the floor.
“Down!” she said.
Caroline looked at her blankly.
“Down!” Misty repeated, only more sternly.
Confusion was quickly transforming to fear. She had no idea what was going on. With the dog and cat now glaring at her, she felt she had no choice but to get off the chair. Biggles had placed the bowl down and her mum and dad we eating eagerly. Why where her parents acting as if nothing were wrong? Caroline felt a lump in her throat and her eyes were wet. She flung herself on her bed and hid her face under her arms. She had never felt so alone. How was she going to get out of this one? What had even caused this strange turn of events? One way or another Caroline knew she had to find a way to change things back. She didn’t like being the pet. Did Biggles and Misty feel this way? So many questions were buzzing round like a swarm of angry bees in her brain; there was no one to answer them, no one to comfort her.
Caroline chanced a look at the pets she loved so much and yet she couldn’t help but feel resentful. Yet it wasn’t their fault she was in this predicament. Guilt crept in then among the confusion and fear: another emotion to crowd her on top of everything else. She felt suffocated, trapped. It was getting harder to breath. Caroline thrashed about in her bed trying desperately to fling the invisible force off her. Panic was overwhelming her.
Finally, she made a gap in the duvet and as her head emerged from the covers, she breathed in air, glorious, life saving air. Caroline untangled herself from the covers feeling warm and sweaty but otherwise relieved to be free of her cotton prison – and her nightmare.
Lara smiled as the plane landed. 'Home sweet home' she thought.
It had been a relaxing three weeks in Hawaii with Sara Pezzini, doing
nothing but have fun and not have to worry about having to find
artifacts and while dealing with megalomaniacs who were bent on world
domination. As she got off the plane, she saw a red Ferrari sitting
on the runway, not too far off. What surprised her was seeing
Winston leaning almost carelessly against it. He was dressed in black,
including a leather jacket, and sported several gold chains around
his neck. Lara also noticed his silver-and-white-hair was slicked
back and he chewed on a toothpick.
"Winston?" she greeted questioningly. 'Why is he dressed like
some South London thug?'
" 'Ello, miss," Winston greeted in a rough Cockney. " 'Ave a
good flight?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Good. Mr. L's expecting ya at the Manor."
The older man picked up the suitcase and carried it over to the
Ferrari, where he put it in the trunk. 'When exactly did Winston
start talking like a chav?' As she walked to the car and got in,
she couldn't help but notice that two gold hoops hung from
Winston's right ear lobe as well as his hair tied into a ponytail.
"You said Mr. L," Lara queried. "Who's Mr. L?"
"Conrad Larson, miss," Winston replied with a raised eyebrow.
"Surely ya know 'im."
"Of course I know him, but why is he at the Manor?"
" 'E owns it, miss."
"WHAT! He OWNS it?!"
"Yeah. 'Is family's done owned it since around 1750 or so."
"Really."
What was going on here? First Lara saw Winston leaning
against a Ferrari dressed like a hood, then he was speaking in
a Cockney accent and now he told the Tomb Raider that some
Yankee yahoo with the brains of a lobotimized gorilla owned
Croft Manor and his family had done so for over two hundred-odd
years. What was next! After zipping through traffic and violating
over fifty to sixty driving regulations, Lara could not complain as
she had done the same on many an ocassion, the Ferrari finally
made it to the Manor. 'Well, the Manor looks the same. On the
outside, that is. I hate to see what the interior looks like.' The
door opened and out sashayed Amanda! Her dyed-black hair was
pixie-cut and she wore a very abbreviated maid's outfit.
"Eeelary!" she squealed "You 'ave returned!."
"Yeah, luv," Winston grinned. "I 'ad to pick up the miss 'ere.
Mr. L's expectin' 'er."
"Of course. Madamoiselle Croft. Pleeze zeez way."
Lara shrugged and followed the other woman into the Manor.
'I bet Larson had something to do with the outfit.' As she walked
in, she gasped at how incredibly tacky the decor was. Where
Zip's "computer office" would have been was a stripper pole and
a smooth-faced girl with red hair and wearing very little was
putting it to good use, slithering and gliding around it. Across
from the pole and near the stairs was a fully-stocked wet bar.
Leaning against it was Larson, eyeing the stripper appreciatively
while sipping a snifter of bourbon. The walls were painted a bright
orange with purple accents and had posters of almost nude
women and UFC events. Where the portrait of Lara's parents
hung over the fireplace, there was now a sixty-inch television
screen. A disco ball hung down from the ceiling and the
furniture was scarlet with tiger and leopard-print. 'Good GOD!
Where are the Queer Eye blokes when you need them!'
"Lara!" the ex-Marine beamed. "Well, ain't you a sight! How
was your trip?"
"It was fine," Lara replied, arching an eyebrow as Winston
poured two drinks at the bar and walked over to her and
giving her one. "Thank you, Winston."
The older man nodded and left with Amanada for a little fun
in the kitchen. 'I don't even want to know what he's doing
with Amanda' Lara thought with a slight shiver.
"So, Larson," she mused. "Winston tells me you own the
Manor. In fact, your family has supposedly owned this for
over two hundred-plus years."
"That's right," Larson beamed as he took a long drink.
"I can't say much for the taste. So, a little bird tells me
I was expected. So, what can I do for you?"
"I got a job for you."
"Really." 'Larson commissioning me for a job?' "What is
it? And how do I know you won't stab me in the back?"
"Lara!" Larson thumped his fist against his chest in mock
pain. "I'm hurt. You don't trust me?"
"Not particularly, no."
"Well, I'd like you to work with Jacqueline Natla on acquiring
the Mask of Fu Chao."
"Natla!" Larson wanted the Tomb Raider to work with the *****
who tried to kill her countless times? Was he barking? "You want
me to work with her?!"
"Yeah. She's good at what she does. Almost as good as you,
plus there will be a handsome commission for the both of you."
"What's the catch?"
"Well, Alex West wants the Mask so he can enslave the world."
Alex! A power-hungry megalomanic? That could not have been
right. He was a money-hungry, sometimes sweet berk who
often sold Lara down the river, but world domination? Impossible!
"Alex?"
"Yup. I know you got feelings for him, darling. You two always
were a cute couple."
"We were a long time ago, Larson. I have no feelings for him
whatsoever."
That was not quite true, but Lara was not going to give the
ex-Marine the satisfaction. Meanwhile, she was still trying to
decipher what Twilight Zone episode she had stumbled into.
well, a little something I cooked up at 10 this evening. hope
we like. also, I wasn't sure how to write a Cockney accent
without making it too stereotypical so I decided less is more.
Jackles: I really liked this, it was really quite unnerving, especially as it's not clear from the beginning what the problem is. Kept me on the edge of my seat right until the end which left me with goosebumps :eek: :tmb:
NeilCroft: What an odd turn of events for Lara. Larson in control, Amanda as a maid and Natla as a Tomb Raider working with Lara? Oooer. But the funniest part was Winston, I bet he enjoyed driving that flash car :vlol:
ooh can I review tomorrow? I am just about to eat cake and have fizzy birthday beverage!
:o
^Yep sure. Enjoy your cake and beverage :)
OOh be warned I am not that good at this reviewing bit!!
I was tickled by both stories in different ways
Rai I enjoyed your story and was amused by your role reversal, I could clearly see the dog telling you to go out! I also enjoyed the imagery of the cat engrossed in the paper. :D
Does make you wonder if that is how our pets see us! :)
Neilcroft I enjoyed your 'seedy' elements to your story which of course tickled me. I kind of felt that you really enjoyed writing that which came across in the piece.
hey,
Jackles: interesting tale, though I also wasn't sure what was
going on. very suspenseful and nicely done.
Rai: well, I'd say karma is a *****, but the dog is male:p. very
cute role reversal and I'm sure our heroine will make sure to
treat her pets more respectful next time.;)
well done, both of you and I look forward to the next Saturday
Midnight challenge.
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