The Collector

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

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

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.”

Bump

I stare down at Sandra’s makeup mirror balanced on the edge of the white porcelain sink. The last of my coke is chopped in two straight lines and I know I shouldn’t but I probably will.

Just now before I lied and said I had to piss, she told me to stop or we were done.

Said she’d brought so much into this relationship and I was killing it, killing us, killing her.

I said I had no more coke but she’s not stupid. She knows me and my secrets. I’m no mystery. She’s a goddess and I’m a demon-vampire sucking her life away and I can’t stop but I tell her I can. She knows I’m a liar even though I don’t want to be. I say I gotta piss and go into the bathroom. She doesn’t say goodbye.

I did my last two bumps today. I swear to God, I swear to Sandra but they’ve both gone and left me here alone. I can’t even see myself in her mirror anymore.

Deceptions and Aliens

Author’s Note: I’ve decided to go back to posting a few #fridayflash pieces based on prompts from the totally awesome WriteAnything.com. This week’s prompt: “Pick a book of fiction you’d never read (e.g., if you read sci-fi, pick a romance). Open to a random page and read the last couple paragraphs of the page. DO NOT TURN THE PAGE. Now continue writing the story. Feel free to change the genre as you write.”

Ready? Strap in.

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From the novel “Deceptions” by Judith Michael
Copyright 1982 by JM Productions Ltd.
Page 321

“Garth removed the ivory combs in her hair and the heavy waves fell over her shoulders, bronze in the dim light. He looked at her slender body and passed his hands along the clear, silken skin as if he had never seen it before. Her ripe fullness lifted toward him, her head high and proud as he gazed at her. I am a part of us, her eyes said, and my beauty is greater because you desire me.

Once again he gathered her into his arms, her softness curving against the muscles of his arms and stomach and legs, the warmth of her body merging into his. They held each other, treasuring their desire, for now they knew it would be fulfilled. At last he bent his-”
head away from hers. Thank God, she thought. Another second and his breath would have knocked me out. Inter-species breeding was still new and apparently there were still some kinks to be worked out. That’s OK, she thought chuckling to herself. I have some kinks of my own that need sorting first.

“Why are you laughing?” asked Garth. His smoldering eyes searched her voluptuous body for answers.

“It’s just I’ve never seen eyes actually smolder before,” said Katherine. “In my world it’s a horrible cliché.” She bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to insult him, especially now. In his current state of full arousal he could accidentally kill her.

“I’m sorry,” he said climbing off her.

“Please don’t leave.” She grabbed one of his eight arms and pulled him back on top of her. “I find the smell quite pleasurable. It turns me on.”

She lifted her head to his and kissed his lips, tasting the warmth of smoked Gouda as her tongue explored the depths of his mouth.

“Oh Garth,” she whispered, her lips brushing his antennae. They lay entwined on the hotel bed, Garth’s full weight pressed upon her.

“Garth,” she breathed, pounding her fists against his back and the bed. “Garth,” she moaned, it was barely audible. “GARTH!”

“Oh dear Jebbus!” he exclaimed shifting his weight off her. “How clumsy of me to forget you don’t have an exoskeleton.” Katherine lay panting on the bed. “Did I hurt you? Should we stop?”

No you didn’t hurt me and no we shouldn’t stop,” she said tracing her long slender finger down his thorax toward his groin. “It’s been too long since I’ve had something between my legs that wasn’t plugged into the wall.”

Then in an surprising turn of events the reader didn’t see coming she devoured him and thought his leftovers tasted better the second day.

Author’s note Redux: See, this is why I have no business writing romance. And by the way books from the ‘free’ table at the annual library book sale aren’t always worth it.

The Vanquishing

Kara stood defiant; her thin, lanky body filling the door way.

“You can’t come in.”

“What?” Danielle couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You must be Kara. Get out of my way and tell your mother I’m here for her.

“She knows you are here. She isn’t going with you.”

Danielle took a step toward the young woman but had to stop short. Kara was standing just inside the door. ‘Smart girl,‘ she thought.

“Last chance. Go and fetch your mother.” Danielle flashed a practiced look of hate. Kara was unafraid.

“You can’t have her. Please leave now.” She did her best to look as intimidating as Danielle.

“You understand, young witch, I can tear this place apart? Is this something you want? Now bring your mother to me.”

Kara shook her head no. Danielle balled up her fists and began to build up her magic. She sent a blast of compressed air toward the woman but to no avail. Kara remained standing in the doorway. Apparently the woman was stronger than Danielle had given her credit for. She tried her spell again, this time she put all she had into moving the girl. Kara braced herself against the force of the demoness’s powerful spell. It was too much and she was forced to retreat back to the home’s central fireplace.

A thunderous sound echoed through the house as the front door’s granite threshold cracked and heaved out of the ground. Danielle stepped over the now useless stone and entered the girl’s house.

“You think you can use magic against me?”

“No.”

Kara stepped back.

“You think I’d be bound by the archaic rules?”

“I thought –”

Danielle put up a hand to forestall any sniveling.

“I appreciate you trying to protect your momma, but I’m afraid you both will have to die. The world doesn’t need another witch and I can’t constantly be looking over my shoulder after all.”

Kara took another step back; the flames of the large kitchen fireplace singed the small hairs on her ankles. Danielle took a step forward and smiled wickedly. She shoved the girl into the flames.

The fire flared up and circled her – protecting her from the demon.

“Well, well, it appears I’ve underestimated you again.”

Danielle’s eyes glowed orange then red as she gathered all her power. She released it all at once at the young woman who stood unharmed as the flames carried the demon’s magic up the chimney.

“You asked if I thought you would be bound by the archaic rules but you didn’t let me answer.” Kara stepped out of the cleansing flames.

Danielle took a step back.

“This is not my mother’s home. This is my home and I am with child.”

Kara paused to see if her words were having their intended effect on the demon. They were. Danielle struggled to flee but found her feet frozen to the ground.

“You may be powerful demon, but the protectress of the hearth abides here and you, Danielle Avercoft, were not invited in.”

His Due

Our top story tonight, Martha Colt was found dead at her Long Island home this morning.


Trash gets thrown away sometimes. And, as in the case of Martha Colt, sometimes it gets tossed in the pool.


The actress was discovered floating face down.


She came to me last night. My door is always open for when the desperate get desperate.


Investigators say she appears to have been alone the night before and there were no signs of forced entry.


“What do you want?” I asked.


Colt began her long career with her role on the popular series, “Faust” but recently dropped off the pop culture radar after accusing the network of cheating her out of her contract.


“To be famous again,” she said. Her face was wet. She’d been crying.


Industry insiders claim she had been blackballed for publicizing her accusations.


“My associates can make that happen.”


The network as well as her family have refused to comment, however friends close to Colt say the once sought after actress has been feeling depressed as of late.


“Are you an agent?”


Colt, recently returned from rehab for her highly publicized drug addiction, retreated into her home and has been out of touch for days.


“I’m an agent of sorts.”


Police won’t say whether or not drugs were involved in the actress’s death but state at this point they are quote, “ruling nothing out.”


“Yeah, right. I’ll never see you again will I?”


Coming up after the break…


“Oh, just sign here and you and I will see each other again very soon.”

The Eye Candy Also Flies

Author’s note: If you haven’t read “Of Panties and Pirates”, you can do so here. It’s not necessary, but you’ll get more of the jokes. Hope you enjoy.

#

The damn woman is as stubborn as she is sexy. And her refusal to look at me is especially infuriating. It’s a hell of a view though.

“Look, all I’m saying is you should get at least one or two weapons installed on this ship of yours.”

“I heard you the first thousand times,” she says. Finally she swivels her chair around and stands to face me. “I’m a trader, not a pirate. I have standards.”

“I’m not suggesting you become a pirate. I’m suggesting you protect yourself better. You have a reputation now.”

“Thanks to you and your little…” she glances down at my crotch. “Trigger finger. The answer is no.”

She pushes past me and exits the bridge.

I follow her out the hatch and into the kitchen. I pour us some coffee and we sit down at the table. The silence hangs there for a while as we sip our drinks and act nonchalant. I decide to press a little further.

“If I walked up to a woman on the street and told her I was thirsty and wanted some milk, she’d probably slap me in the face. But if that same woman happened to be standing next to a cow, she’d bend over and squeeze the cow’s tit for me.”

She looks at me like I have Tribbles crawling out of my pants.

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that everything has its own context. Pirates pick the weakest ships. If they see you are armed they’ll leave you alone.”

“Oh yeah? Try to guess what context this is,” she says and flips me the bird.

For a second I forget what were talking about because all I can see is her long, slender finger and its glossy, deep red nail. My god, the places that thing’s been.

She rolls her eyes and slams her cup on the table.

“If other traders see I’m armed, they won’t trade with me. And if the cops see I’m armed, I’ll be forever handing over my manifest and sitting in queue waiting to dock at every port while being scanned for contraband. And if pirates see I’m armed they’ll think I’m some piss-ant space jockey trying to horn in on their racket and they’ll blast me anyway. Yeah, you really thought this through didn’t you.”

“I’m just concerned about you Jess, that’s all.”

The proximity alarm cuts us off. We race back to the cockpit. Jessie throws herself into her chair and tells me to take the pilot’s seat.

“But I’m not the pilot.”

“Well they don’t know that do they? Sit down!”

I sit and she turns on the com.

“Trader vessel, you are targeted. Prepare to be boarded or we will fire on you.”

“What did I tell you? If you had-”

“You finish that thought Devon, and I’ll gouge your eye out with my thumb. If I had guns we’d already be dead. That’s an Archer Heavy Raider. Basically a space going weapons platform. What we need is a good pilot. But you saw to that didn’t you?”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Maybe, but you shouldn’t have shot at him like that.”

“No I mean, son of a bitch. Sit down and strap in.”

I guess the look on my face was serious enough for her not to ask why. She sits down and I start flicking switches.

“What the hell are you doing? We’re not fast enough to out run them.”

“Don’t need to out run them, just out fly them. Archer Raiders have a blind spot.”

“Are you high?”

By now the pirates must know were running so I don’t have time to answer. I hit the thrusters as if we are making a break for it then shut them off again as soon as they begin pursuit. They fly right past me. What most people don’t know is the Archer’s triangular thruster configuration leaves a nice pocket directly behind the ship just big enough for a small vessel like ours to hide indefinitely.

“Let’s see your old pilot do that.”

I’m smiling like an idiot and Jessie looks pissed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you can fly?”

“Because I don’t want to be part of your crew. I like what we have. I didn’t want it to feel weird when we do those nasty things in your bunk.”

“If we get out of this I’m going to kill you.”

“With what? I have all your panties.”

“Just get us out of here,” she says and folds her arms across her chest.

Man she’s sexy when she pouts.

“Only if you promise to hire another pilot.”

“Now’s not the time for demands.”

“Yeah it is. It’s the perfect time for demands.”

Before I can say another word Jessie’s arm shoots out and grabs me by my collar. She pulls me in close and kisses me. A deep, rough, lustful kiss. It ends with my bottom lip pinched in her teeth. She shoves me back into my chair and cuffs me in the head.

“You’re an ass.”

One Christmas Eve

“Hey, Tommy, you seen my mitt?” I ask as I poke my head into the little room we’ve been sharing.

“Yeah, it’s in the garage, but I don’t want to play right now.”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly to steady myself for the news I’m about to give.

“You might as well know, I’m leaving tonight.”

“What?” Tommy tosses his book on the floor and leaps to his feet.

“Yeah, I heard your mom and dad talking about me in the kitchen. They said they didn’t know the best way to tell me.”

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Attack on Sector Four

“-Sir.”

That damn intercom always interrupts me just as I’m about to fall asleep.

“This better be important.” I say double checking that I pressed audio only.

“Sir, sensors have picked up a large aircraft approaching sector four at high speed. The silhouette does not match any known craft.”

“I assume they haven’t responded to any requests to identify themselves.”

“No response, sir. Ready-One-Interceptors are online and ready for deployment.”

“Launch drones, surveillance only. I’m on my way.”

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