200 Word Tuesday – #BrokenWorld prompt

(Originally featured on http://200wordtuesdays.blogspot.com.au)

There are some things that never change and one of these is the sound of siblings squabbling.  The language may be different, but the gist of the conversation is always the same.

“You dropped that on purpose!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did so not…”

“I’m telling…”

“Go on then… baby…”

How tiresome it is to sit here listening to my two beloved children having this argument. My problem is that I can’t interfere. It’s part of their growing up. I am fading, just slightly, blurring at the edges quietly (and I hope with dignity) so nobody really notices, but I know the truth. One of them will have to take over, and soon. And I know that neither of them is yet ready which makes me sad.

I look down at the floor. Water. Earth. Small wriggly objects, smaller than most eyes can see thrash around and stop suddenly, like ants realising their time is up. I would speak, but I’ve lost my voice now, lost the will. I have to leave them to it, let them tough it out. Eyes closing, I pass over.

“Dad… he broke my world again.

“I did not”

“Dad…. Dad??”

Even gods must die.

The Liar’s Key Writing Contest Winner Announcement & Shortlist Feedback

that thorn guy

the liar's key new

I am very pleased to announce that the judges have come to a decision, 5 independently selecting the same winner and the 6th awarding it 2nd place!

I can now reveal The Winner of The Liar’s Key Writing Contest to be:

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E.F. Russellfor the entry The Electric Heart Cannot Bleed.

Many congratulations!

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With the overall high standard of the entries I would also like to give a special mention to the runners up:

First runner up:Peter,The Liar in the Cellar

Second runner up: A. S. Moser, Shadows

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Once again thank you very much for taking the time to enter and submitting so many excellent works.

Special thanks to the brilliant judges panel: Mark Lawrence, David Jackson, T. Frohock, Myke Cole, T.o. Munro and Marc Aplin, for considering the entries and providing much appreciated feedback on the shortlisted pieces, that you…

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How could you?

She sat in the cafe listening to the buzz of conversations droning on around her.  It was like sitting in a garden listening to bee hives. Picking out one or two words or phrases every now and then, most people discussed what they’d bought. The rain splattered the window, reminding her that summer was quickly passing away, being shredded by the cool mists of autumn.

The mobile phone on her table buzzed quietly, slyly informing her of another tweet that had come in. No, it wasn’t from him directly. Never was. He didn’t know she existed. Despite her attempts to grab his attention, jumping up and down in the way you do, she knew he would never come to her.

But she loved him all the same. She just knew it was love. When she saw his name light up the phone, her heart soared. Every word he uttered would transform her day into something light and fluffy, other times would leave her in the depths of despair. She missed him when he didn’t tweet, when there were silences. In her head, she had said goodbye so many times and yet… And yet each day she was pulled back in, his subtle phrases beguiling her, teasing her, drawing her back into his world.

There were others he dallied with. She knew about them and hated him for it. Brazenly, he talked about them and it irritated her so much. He was hers and only hers. In her head, her heart and dreams.

Just as he was in the dreams of the other 44,758,153 followers.

Music to my ears

Please feel free to comment on this.  Your feedback would be appreciated.  Thanks.

“She’s catatonic. We’re not quite sure why.” Disembodied words drift into my mind.

For those around me, I am to all intents and (medical) purposes locked into a vegetative state, brain-dead. Inside I live. And listen.

Music plays in the background. Someone has brought in my iPod and speakers, thinking to soothe me. But I listen for something – to something else – just beyond the music. I listen to the cue. Click.

“There’s no response. We’ve done so many tests. No response from her whatsoever. I’m so sorry, there’s nothing more that we can do. Perhaps we should consider switching…”

Eyes flicker behind shadows, belying the diagnoses of doctors. I am condemned by those who will soon know better.

“Should we consider moving her to another hospital? We can afford to pay. We have insurance that will cover it.”

My father’s strained words reach me. I hear him breathe heavily, trying to control himself, to hold back the tears.

“Well there is a place, I’m just not sure they’d take her. I’ll make a call and try. If you’d like to wait here, I won’t be long.”

Click. A door closes.

Again I hear the subliminal sound. Minutes pass as it bores its way into my brain until I hear the final note completing the sequence. The call to battle.

Click. A door opens.

“Yes, you’re in luck… they said they’d take……”

The words falter and stop.

In the room there is silence. The eerie silence you get when the monster within finally explodes out and kills.   The silence of shock and horror that is unable to utter a word or scream.

Game Over 1.2

On receiving some excellent advice, I revised this tale a little more.  I like this version better.  Hope you do too.

It’s hard when you’re on the run. People start to avoid you. Things become much more expensive when they realise you’re desperate. Money becomes scarce, favours scarcer. I ended up on the dark side of every planet I landed on, always one step ahead of the bounty hunter. Until I came here: too tired to eat, too tired to make a decision.

Best restaurant this side of Tixlit, best meal on the menu and all I could do was prod it from one side of my plate to the other. Not that it was still moving or anything. Elena’s Exotic Eatery was famed throughout the universe for the best food going at the best prices.

Yet here I was, unsure whether to take a mouthful or do whatever I needed to do next. I was tempting fate by sitting here I knew that, but I needed one good meal inside me. And a break.

“You gonna eat that?” A gravelly voice disturbed my thoughts. I looked up: my table companion eyed my food greedily.

“Yeah… maybe… no… you want some – all of it?” Hell, I thought, why not give it to him, he looked hungry enough. I pushed the plate towards him, appetite gone.

It shouldn’t have ended like this. I loved that woman more than anyone else I had come across. She was everything I needed: sassy, kind, moneyed. I could’ve moved up in the world, left my past behind, started anew. Then her dad put a tail on me and all my secrets spilled out. The bounty hunter had a fresh trail laid out for him.

A blast of cold air: the door had opened. This time I knew it was too late. I turned and faced my nemesis.

Game Over

“You gonna eat that?” He eyed my food greedily.

“Yeah… maybe… no… you want some – all of it?”

I’d been pushing my food round the plate again. I was thinking hard about my next move. Best restaurant this side of Tixlit, best meal on the menu and all I could do was prod it from one side to another. Not that it was still moving or anything. Elena’s Exotic Eatery was famed throughout the universe for the best food going at the best prices.

Yet here I was, undecided about whether to take a mouthful or do whatever I needed to do next.

My table companion’s heavy hand reached across and grabbed the meat. He bit into it, slurping down the juices and chewing in a way that left me no option but to see everything churning in his mouth, like some human shaped washing machine. His mama had obviously never bothered to teach him table manners. I don’t think I would have either, he was one big boy.

“S’good… you shoulda ….” The big man’s speaking and chewing was interrupted by him pulling out a bone which he threw over his shoulder. The enormous dog sitting behind pounced on it quickly, sliding under the table for safety.

I was still undecided what to do. It shouldn’t have ended like this. I had loved that woman more than anyone else I had come across. She was everything I needed: sassy, kind, moneyed. I could’ve moved up in the world, leaving my past behind, started afresh. Then her smart-alec dad put a tail on me and all my secrets came spilling out.

It’s hard when you’re on the run. People start to avoid you: things become much more expensive, money becomes scarce. I ended up on the dark side of every planet I landed on, always one step ahead of the bounty hunter. Until I reached here: too tired to eat, too tired to make a decision.

A blast of cold air, the door had opened. This time I knew it was too late. I turned and faced my nemesis.

Game Over.

#fp Transformation

This is something I tweeted today as part of the Friday Phrases genre.  This expansion is for @bobbibowwoman

https://twitter.com/whithernow/status/581359812480499712

The itch was unbearable.  She scrabbled at her body, pulling off skin as it puckered and swelled.

More scales patterned her skin?

Scales?  What the heck….

Her legs started to blister, her feet ballooning like they were filled with water.  She couldn’t look as they popped loudly, leaving only the bones behind.  Only scream again.

Now the pain in her back was driving her crazy.  Right in the place she couldn’t reach with the scaly hands that were elongating as she looked.  She was pushed to the floor by a sudden weight. Unable to move or breath for a moment, it was a chance to rest.

The weak sunlight warmed her as she lay there.  A slight breeze tickled her nose.  Opening her eyes, her vision was dazzled by a new focus.  Everything was clearer, brighter, more colourful.  Things smelt so much better – tantalising her, teasing her to come and find out why.

Raising her head, she tried to get up only to find she rose into the air.  The transformation was complete.

In the garden a butterfly flew for the first time.

#writing dare – 99 words ending … well you’ll see how it pans out

Mary wasn’t very good at anything he decided.

The house was a tip. Dust everywhere, even under things like drawers! The hoover never seemed to be used and papers piled up on every surface. Nigel, of course, pointed out her failings to her every day, mentioning his numerous allergies in glorious monotony. Mary smiled and carried on doing what she always did.

After 45 years of this, Nigel decided he’d had enough and told her he was divorcing her. Enough was enough.

She nodded agreement, then handed him a cake containing nuts.

And smiled as he choked to death.