Saturday, September 24, 2016

Scheming Cat - WQ198

I have a story in the Iron Writer Grudge this week... I can't say which it is, but it is losing in the internal voting of Iron Writer... it's the stupid funny one! Yes! That one! I guess I don't have enough friends in the Iron Writer anymore...
Oh look! Weekend Quickie 198! Here's mine..."Scheming Cat'...

198 - image above, deception, loathing, subterfuge

"Sometimes I pamper you too much," said Rosie, sipping her coffee at the kitchen table after four hours at the vet's, trying to take her cats for a check-up. "Why oh why you all had to go together, I have no idea."
'It was part of our deception and subterfuge, my queen,' purred Felix. 'Flossy kept that vile man's attention while I slipped away.'
"And what was all that fuzz about, eh, Felix?" asked Rosie, staring straight at him. "You never do that. No one could find you for a whole hour!"
'I was planting the bombs and setting the fuses, my queen. It does not take a mere five minutes, especially when one does not have an opposable digit.'
"Still, at least the vet could get a look at you. Finally! He said he can neuter you next week. I've got the appointment, Wednesday afternoon," said Rosie.
'That day will not come for him!' meowed Felix. 'He will never touch me again with his sweaty, clammy hands!'
"What's wrong, Felix? Are you scared?" chuckled Rosie.
Felix watched the explosion erupt, milliseconds before its sound rang through the city, making Rosie spill some coffee.
'I loathed that place,' purred Felix.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

WQ197 + news

So close to 200 Quickies! How many quickies have you ever 'done'? Now there's a question...

News... waiting on a ton of anthologies for some news, maybe I'll have a story in, maybe not. My new novel is now in the 'editing' process. And working on Niume...

But now...!

WQ197 - Image of two people with gas masks, improvise, deprivation, great urgency

"I can't see the words," said Harry, holding the empty box. "I need reading glasses, and with this goddamn mask on, I can't wear them."
"What?" asked Sally.
"What?" replied Harry. "I can't read the instructions with this on! How do we test for gas?"
"Left my gas? This isn't my doing, Harry! I swear I didn't have lentils today!" said Sally.
"You think of something! You're the dutiful one!" Harry threw the box on the ground.
"Oh, Harry, I really can't take your sarcasm anymore! You know I'm not beautiful! I'm as ugly as mud!" said Sally.
"Fake your orgasm? Why bring that up?" asked Harry.
"Look, I'm going to improvise! I'll take my gas mask off and take a small breath!" said Sally, doing just that with great urgency.
"What? A small death? I believe the French call it 'the little death'," remarked Harry, watching as Sally fell to the floor and began to wiggle and writhe on the ground. With the deprivation of oxygen, Sally gave a few last grunts, rolled her eyes and lay still, dead.
"Yes, yes, that's what my second ex was like, really. So she was faking it, eh?" asked Harry. "What a bitch."

Saturday, September 10, 2016

WQ196 + Niume update

Niume is going well, almost 1000 readers after a post or two a day for two weeks. Readers, need readers. And reviews. Need reviews.
Oh look! Weekend Quickie 196!
And here's mine...

WQ196 - image above, the fear of rejection, something brand new, a playground

My local playground got a brand new slide and I had to try it. Watching the others going down and squealing with joy created an urge inside of me to fly down its long, smooth green plastic chute, an urge which overwhelmed me when I first saw it. But once perched at the top of the ladder, looking down, fear held me in place. Sweat rolled down my back.
The kids behind started screaming and shouting, pushing me, kicking me, their mums and dads looking on at me, disapprovingly, shaking their heads. I couldn't do it! I couldn't! I was a coward, a jerk, no one would talk to me ever again! They'd reject me and I would never be able to show my face, doomed for the rest of my days, stuck in front of the screen playing XBox games and watching reruns of my favourite TV shows. Never to see the light of the day! Never to be able to make friends with anyone again!
"Aw, come on, Dad!" said my eight year old son, Tommy, looking up from the bottom and holding my telephone to record a video. "You're in the way! Let go of the rails!"

Saturday, September 3, 2016

WQ195 + Niume

I'm trying out this new community website, Niume, and it seems to be going well. If those are 'real' readers, the future looks bright.
If you want to join this good looking place, please use my personal referral link when registering...I'm a poor writer, come on! :-) Then make one post... one... and you get a dollar!

But now.. it's Weekend Quickie time!
See the rest over here...
...but here's mine!

195 – image of a hundred dollar bill in the grass, a small wicker basket, a canning jar, a padlock, a large praying mantis, a box turtle.

Tommy scrutinised the hundred dollar bill Max had placed in the grass.
"You sure you wanna bet that? Your Grandma gave you that."
"This is a sure win," said Max. Tommy had agreed to this 'fight to the finish' because Max was such an arsehole, boasting in front of Emily, Max's sister, that his praying mantis was the strongest. It was. Twice the age and double the size. Max had a large praying mantis, no doubt about it, but Tommy couldn't let it go. So they made this bet.
Tommy took the canning jar he transported his meagre insect out from his rucksack and placed it down.
"Where's your money?" asked Max.
"You'll get it, if you win. Don't you worry." But he did. There was no way he could get one hundred dollars.
Max grinned and pulled out a small padlocked wicker basket from his rucksack. Laughing, Max took off the padlock and opened the lid. His face went white.
"What?" asked Tommy.
Pausing for a second, Max grabbed his hundred dollar bill and scarpered away. Tommy looked inside the basket and saw Emily's box turtle. She'd done a switch. Max would never hear the end of this one.