Tuesday, March 28, 2017

1071. The Giver

I've started to feel like every part of my life wants something from me.
It's like there's a bucket I can't fill for trying.
My neighbour Patricia, a world-class astrophysicist, says this is because I have a microscopic, hyper-localized black hole orbiting around me at all times.
She says this is quite peculiar.

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Monday, March 27, 2017

1070. Xeroxed

As an artist, Betty wasn't a world beater.
All her sketches were crude things done in charcoal.
The old copier in the basement that brought them to life didn't care.
Her creations - crude charcoal things - would putter around doing little things to draw her attention.

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Friday, March 24, 2017

1069. Time traveler

"It will be better when you're gone," someone shouted at the old man.
What could he do?
He was a boy when the old regime came to power.
Now he was a last, broken down partisan crying in front of a broken statue.

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Thursday, March 23, 2017

1068. Lurid taxonomy

He scratched the fifth name off the list.
Burying his head in his hands, he allowed himself to weep for two minutes.
Even his beloved mahogany-lined study offered him no comfort.
He would never be a proper pornographer with names like these.

If you're curious, I wrote five names. If you highlight the numbers below, you can read 'em.

1. Lord Reginald Bottomsly
2. Llewellyn Longfellow 
3. Peter Petersmith
4. The First Earl of Henley on Balls
5. Cecil Sexworth

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Wednesday, March 22, 2017

1067. Hungry eyes

They bought a house.
Inside was a black market audio cassette recording of the "Dirty Dancing" soundtrack.
It was a trap.
They were never seen again.

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Tuesday, March 21, 2017

1066. Slightly chapped

For the purposes of this story, please assume the world is down to its last ChapStick (cherry).
Further, please allow that this occurred due to a complex interplay of societal and economic conditions.
In this scenario, world leaders and billionaires haggle over who would own this ChapStick and how.
Bart - a security guard - renders this discussion moot after using the aforementioned salve on his lips after a day in the dry air of the vault.

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Monday, March 20, 2017

1065. Post-industrial production methods

The cardboard cube was waiting on her step when she got home.
Opening it, she paused to pop, pop, pop some of the layered bubble wrapping.
She breathed deep, savouring the contents - ethically-sourced, small batch hope.
Closing the box to trap the remaining sentiment, she wondered if she'd be able to afford market rate for hope once her free trial ended.

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Sunday, March 19, 2017

1064. Healthy living

How fragile is this thing called health.
He realized that now.
Each moment was a new anguish that felt like it would last forever.
And that - shhh - was the end of the first day.


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Friday, March 17, 2017

1063. Name, rank, serial number

"Sir, I'm Special Agent Johnson and I need to ask you some questions."
"I'll show you a special agent john-"
"Sir, I've heard that one before."
The scene ends with the sound of closing handcuffs.

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Thursday, March 16, 2017

1062. Marmaduke

It was the Marmaduke sweater.
It was the vital clue.
It was the key to all things.
It was the Marmaduke sweater.

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Tuesday, March 14, 2017

1061. Ned

Ned's face was hot under the mask.
Sweat was beading and sliding down his neck.
What was this protest even about?
Was this even a movement?


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Saturday, March 11, 2017

1060. Famous yet

The World Famous Actor was 78, which she thought of as old but not dead.
Her appearance in The Academy's annual "Those we've lost" tribute segment came as quite a surprise - a shock even.
But, The Academy refused to admit their mistake, so she was dead.
Eventually, everyone came to believe it was so, so it was so.



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Friday, March 10, 2017

1059. Famous last

"The debit machine didn't even have tap," he whispered through his death rattle.
"What'd he say?" the lawyer asked?
"Rosebud," said the dead man's mother.
"He said, 'Rosebud'."

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Wednesday, March 8, 2017

1058. Checking out

It was an old fashioned time clock; punch in, punch out.
She took the paper slip with her name on it and punched once.
The hole that appeared in the floor took her quite by surprise.
When next she saw sunlight, she was in a charming A-frame cottage next to a lake she'd never seen before.

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Tuesday, March 7, 2017

1057. Some things do last forever

Both things were meant to last forever: the cold grey November and the rain that came with it.
That was the way the warlock - Slash - wove his sorcery.
This would be the world now.
This would be Axl Rose's revenge.

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Monday, March 6, 2017

1056. The desert valley

Way out west, there's a stretch of desert where a billionaire will eventually plant a thousand thousand solar panels.
Today, it's just dry, cracked dirt populated by some scattered lizards and scorpions.
Somewhere out there is an old man who lives in cave during the day and only comes out at night.
He scavenges the bleached bones of men and horses for a house he hopes to build.

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Sunday, March 5, 2017

1055. Artificial flavouring

My hand was all pins and needles.
I looked at it like it belonged to someone else as I searched for other repercussions.
When the first hints of feeling returned, I stuck my finger back in the socket.
My tongue was seized with a chemical-burnt reminiscence of too many ketchup chips.
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Saturday, March 4, 2017

1054. Woo hoo

I saw Starship Troopers, shortly after it was released in November 1997, at the movie house in my hometown.
This was before they split the big room into two, bringing the total screens to three.
A girl we knew was devastated that - even though it had played prominently in the trailers - the song, "Song 2" by Blur was not in the movie.
This story is completely true as I remember it.

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Thursday, March 2, 2017

1053. Lucky man

He rubbed the silver coin between his thumb and forefinger.
One of the last of thirty, the man who gave it to him promised it would confer luck...at a price.
Running his hand along the wall, he felt a click as a small bag of gems slid out from behind a secret panel.
Another black line appeared on his arm.

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Wednesday, March 1, 2017

1052. Accent grave

Her voice was sweet and French.
Behind it, the music dashed along uptempo and filled with joy.
He understood not one word she sang but he loved it and he loved her too.
The lyrics - of course - were vicious old screed.

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