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Archive for the ‘#fridayflash’ Category

The Collector

Friday, April 16th, 2010

Robert dragged the chair across the kitchen floor and admonished himself for sleeping late. He had to hurry. His mother could awaken any moment to put a stop to his plan. His thoughts raced back to yesterday’s conversation.

“No Robert, you’ll just have to wait till it falls out on its own. I’ll not have you ruin an entire box of cereal with your hands.”

“I’ve washed my hands; they’re clean.”

“No, now that’s the end of it.”

“But-”

“No buts! Now hand me the box.”

A loud dragging brought him back to the present as it echoed through the house. He cursed himself for not paying attention. He couldn’t blow this by being careless. He had to pull this off now or face another day’s wait. Everything pointed to the prize being at the very bottom of the box. Waiting wasn’t an option; he needed it today. He had to know if he would be the first in his class to collect the rarest prize.

Robert’s fingers barely reached the box as he stood on tip-toes atop the rickety kitchen chair. He paused to listen for his mum. The snores had stopped which meant she was probably in the bathroom. He had less than a minute to retrieve the prize. He ran to the table and smiled at his brilliance. No time to open the box slowly, he had to do it before she stopped him.

The bathroom door opened. In seconds she would be within eye sight of the kitchen table, she’d see him for sure. It was now or never. He tipped the entire box of cereal over.

“Robert! What are you doing?”

“I just wanted the prize.”

“Well now you’ve ruined the entire-” She stopped when she saw what he had done. “Well, Robert, that’s a fine solution, using my mixing bowl to hold all the cereal. Well done.”

Robert smiled and carefully took the prize packet from the top of the pile. He knew he had to clean up before she would allow him to open the brown paper packet. The slow careful pour of from the mixing bowl into the box seemed to take forever.

At last he was able to examine his prize. He picked the packet up and rolled it around in his fingers trying to make out the general shape. It didn’t seem to feel like the others. His heart fluttered as he tore into the packet.

“YES!”

All the waiting and planning had paid off. Robert raced from the kitchen to his room, burst through the door and threw himself into his chair. He gazed lovingly at his prized collection of wildlife statuettes meticulously arranged on the shelf by his window. His eyes fell instinctively to the empty spot. He imagined himself museum curator as he placed his new acquisition amongst his collection. Panda, Kodiak, Polar and now Grisly; the first in school to have all the bears. Nothing to do now but wait for Monday morning and announce his discovery to the world.

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This week’s story was inspired by the [fiction]Friday prompt at WriteAnything. “While digging in a cereal box for the toy surprise, a child makes a grisly discovery”. I hope you had fun reading it.

That’s Ok Willy

Friday, March 26th, 2010

The two man hunting party made its way through the woods guided by the silver light of the full moon.

“Shh, did you hear that?” said Willy in between gasps of breath. His senses were on high alert. Memories of sitting on his sofa and enjoying delivered pizza floated through his mind as he ventured forth on his first excursion outside the relative safety of the camp’s high fencing.

“No, lets go,” replied Wally, the camps most skilled hunter.

“Shh,” Willy labored to catch his breath. “It’s dangerous enough out here at night; you don’t need to be broadcasting our location to everything within earshot.”

“You’ve been complaining all night. We’re perfectly safe. You’re just looking for an excuse to catch your breath.”

“Well why on earth did you insist I wear these shoes? I feel like a fool with these things on. And their so heavy, I can hardly keep up.”

“They’re special hunting shoes. They help you walk quietly in the woods.”

“That sounds made up.”

“They spread out your weight, thus muffling your footsteps.”

“Ah. Why aren’t you wearing them?”

“Because I already know how to walk quietly.”

“Oh. Why did you insist on me hunting with you tonight?”

“Good Lord man you ask a lot of questions. I asked you to come tonight as my way of saying I forgive you for sleeping with Monica.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re evolved enough to let that go. Most other men in the camp would have challenged me to combat or something.”

“She’s just a woman Willy. There aren’t enough of us left to let the old customs get between us.”

“Exactly, my point, Wally. If we’re to have any hope of reviving the human race we need to be as prolific as possible. Gone are the days where jealousy and monogamy have any meaning.”

“Well, I hope when the others see we’ve hunted together it will help them to understand. Now, let’s get moving,” said Wally taking the lead and motioning for Willy to follow.

“I have to admit,” whispered Wally. “I thought you were more…”

“Backward?”

“Yes. It seems I’ve judged the proverbial book by its cover.”

“It’s going to be dawn soon, if we’re gonna bring back food for the camp you are going to have to be quiet.”

The two continued deeper into the woods, quiet except for Willy’s heavy breathing as he struggled to keep pace with his new friend. Several bodies appeared before them, silhouetted against the moonlight. Wally froze and threw himself to the ground. “Get down!” he hissed.

“Wally, Is that…”

“Get down,” repeated Wally pulling him to the ground.

“Did they see us?”

“You hear them coming after us?”

“Thank God for that. You think we can sneak away? Good thing about the shoes eh?”

“Yeah, Good thing.”

Wally stood up, slung the rifle over his shoulder, inhaled deeply and looked down at the fat, terror stricken cretin who slept with his wife. “Hey! Come get us you bastards!”

“What? What are you doing?”

Willy scrambled to pick himself up off the forest ground spurred on by the sound of the approaching others. Wally kicked him in the stomach then turned to leave.

“Bye Willy. I’m sure Monica will be devastated.”

Life’s A Game

Thursday, February 25th, 2010

Author’s note: This week’s story is inspired by a prompt from the great people at WriteAnything. Thanks for reading and as always, comments are welcome.

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I’m driving to the toy store thinking. Thinking about Carol. Thinking I’m going to leave her because all we ever do is fight. She accuses me of not listening and she’s right, I don’t. I’m just so sick of the constant nagging and whining. If you believed half of what she says you’d hate me but I think I’m an OK guy. Nothing special, but I have friends and they at least think I’m OK. Anyway, I think I’m going to leave her after my little cousin’s birthday.

I’m looking at the shelves and wishing my Aunt hadn’t picked board games as a theme for the party because I really want to get my cousin a remote controlled car. I pick up Monopoly and put it back down. I mean it’s a classic, but does anyone really like that game. I grab Risk and put it back too. It’s a great game, but it takes forever to play. One game and you hardly ever pull it off the shelf again. Life. Now that’s a good game. Spin the wheel and see where you land. Some times you get lucky. Out of all the games here, this is probably the most real.

I toss the package into the back of the wagon and head off to the party. I probably should have brought some wrapping paper but fortunately for me, Carol’s thought of everything. I’m sure I’ll hear all about how right she was to save the gift bags after I was just going to throw them away and how she knew she better put one in the car because obviously, I would forget to ask for free gift wrapping. I guess she does have a point there. I go to put the Game of Life in the gift bag and notice a small piece of paper with her handwriting. It says “sorry”.

Now I don’t know, maybe it is me. Maybe she does still love me. Maybe we can make this work. I head inside and join the party. I smile at Carol as she takes the gift bag from me and she smiles back. I had forgotten how beautiful she is when she smiles. I watch as her face morphs from smile into the fixed corners and crumpled brow that I’ve come to loathe. She slams the bag hard into my chest.

“What?” I ask.

“You always screw things up. Claire is getting him Life,” she says and fixes me with a stare.

“Well, how the hell should I know?”

“I left you a note in the bag. You were supposed to get him Sorry.”