Sunday Stories

20th January
2013
written by amber

I’m busy these days, turning the Story 365 Project into an ebook and it’s fun to see all my flash fiction stories and recall the inspiration behind them, often first lines supplied by my readers.

So let’s use a line from one of those stories -

Something bit me when I was just about to come out of the ocean – something big.

13th January
2013
written by amber

I have two suggestions for you this week. One is a line quoted in Oliver Sack’s great new book, ‘Hallucinations.’ Describing sensations some people have when on the verge of slumber, he mentioned a woman who heard sentences uttered as she was falling asleep. One of those sentences is - I smell the unicorn.

Or, you can visit my Facebook page where you will find a picture of a woman leaning against a car, and use that as your inspiration.

Have fun with this, and remember that you’re invited to make comments on the stories already posted and certainly to post your own in this on-line writing workshop.

13th January
2013
written by amber

Here’s the story that Darryl wrote with last week’s first line suggestion –

“The devil made me do it.”

The audience roared as the tall, handsome, well-dressed man delivered the punch line. It had being a good night at the comedy club. The tables were usually only about a half to three quarters filled on the best nights; but tonight, they were literally overflowing. This was mostly due to the fact that the headliner act for the evening was hometown boy, Cory Sharpe; a class clown in school whom had made it big in the entertainment world, and had decided to come back to where he grew up to let them see what he had become. He had grown famous from this one line ‘The devil made me do it’; the same line he used in school to cause others to laugh, even if it was at the expense of others.

The comedian stopped, took a drink of his rum and coke, and continued his well-rehearsed and time proven routine. The part of his show that included someone from the audience to humiliate was drawing near, so Cory pointed his act towards this part, and began to finish off the joke he was telling.

Cory looked into the audience. He knew who it was he wanted; he knew who it was he hoped to see.

“There he is,” Cory thought to himself as he saw a man named David Coop standing in the very back of the room, leaning up against the bar. David Coop had been Cory’s favourite target in school for the butt of his cruel, and mostly demeaning, jokes.

He finished his joke, and waited the appropriate time for the laughter to die down before talking.

“I need someone to come up for a skit I have prepared,” Cory spoke into the microphone, scanning the room. His eyes settled on David at the back.

“David?” Cory said loudly, feigning surprise at seeing him at the bar, “David Coop?”

As he said David’s last name, he emphasized the ‘P’ at the end. Anyone from school, remembering how Cory called David, David ‘Poop’, snickered.

David simply stood there, holding a pint of draft, his eyes looking at the top of the bar.

“Come on, David,” Cory spoke once again, drawing David’s name out.

“David…David…David…,” Cory chanted David’s name; the audience took up the chant.

David finished his beer, set the mug down on the bar, put his hands into his pockets, and turned towards the stage.

“David Coop, ladies and gentlemen,” Cory announced, his hand up towards David.

As David stepped onto the stage, Cory smiled and put out his hand to shake his school mate’s hand.

David looked at his hand, at Cory’s face, and then towards the audience.

“Come on, buddy,” Cory said, his hand out, “Put ‘er there.”

David withdrew his right hand, and held it out towards Cory. As the two men shook hands, David took his other hand out from his left pocket and slammed a knife deep into the surprised comedian’s chest.

An immediate hush fell over the audience.

“The devil made me do it,” David calmly said, turned and walked away.

6th January
2013
written by amber

Inspired by my birthday dinner (one day early) at Evil Dave’s in Jasper, this week’s first line is “The devil made me do it.”

Post your stories of around 600 words in the comment section below this posting. Have fun!

26th December
2012
written by amber

The Search

The woman walked out of a cloud of dust that had circled her body in a clandestine shroud.

She stopped, closed her eyes, and dusted herself off, allowing as much of the remnants of the dust cloud to fall from her hair and clothing.

“Where am I?” she whispered to herself as she looked around, taking in all that she saw.

“Or,” she added unconsciously, “When?”

The landscape was that of a million time spans, a billion worlds…a trillion possibilities…

A lone creature of some sort soared overhead, circling in the intense heat, riding the rising air that included traces of the dust from her arrival.

From a satchel by her side, she removed three small metal tubes, each identical to the other, and set them down on the ground beside her left foot. Removing a wider, longer tube, she than retrieved one of the tubes from the ground and inserted it in one end of the larger tube. Holding it up, she waved it in the air back and forth, and then removed the small cylinder. She than placed another one in and stabbed it into the ground, removed it and picked up the third small metal tube. Looking around her, she noticed a small plant and, removing a small instrument from the satchel, removed a small part of the plant, and placed it into the last tube. Then, removing a rectangular silvery box from the satchel, she slid all three tubes inside, and, pushing a black button on the side, held it in her hand as she studied the area directly around her.

She had landed in a small depression in a largely flat, unassuming terrain. Surrounding her was small, scrubby plants, the drifting creature, which by now was only a small dot up in the azure sky, and a lot of stone and sand. She looked towards a small, cylindrical pod that rested on the ground, its exterior scarred, dented and blackened, with faded, almost indistinguishable numbers and letters flanking two of its sides.

It had been thirty three years since she had left.

Thirty three years ago, Terran time, since they sent her off on a mission to find a habitable place for what was left of human kind. Thirty three years of been transported through the cosmos in a dire search to aid in the survival of her species. She had lost contact with Main Control just over two years after she had first left, but continued on her search; the pod itself would return back to Earth when the mission was over. If a planet was immediately deadly to human life, the pod would not open, but continue on its journey, only stopping to allow measurements in places that could sustain human life even for a short time period. She hadn’t even looked at the instruments that told her her position when she had landed; she hadn’t paid attention for a while. She didn’t even know which planet she had landed on.

The rectangular box chirped twice. She looked at the box.

“LIFE NOT SUITABLE FOR HUMAN SURVIVAL.”

She clicked another button, and the machine scrolled through a series of data. Her face went pale as the last screen appeared and gave her current position.

“VIRGO SUPERCLUSTER-LOCAL GROUP-ORION ARM OF MILKY WAY…”

Tears slid freely down her cheeks, leaving sooty rivulets behind them.

“THIRD PLANET FROM THE SUN.”

The pod had brought her home.

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