It’s now June and the Write A Day in May challenge is over. Now that it’s June what do I do? I stop writing. The reason for the stoppage is because over Memorial weekend my wife got me hooked on Diablo 2, again, and every night we’ve been using the little time we have without kids working through the game; which is for another post.

Though the habit didn’t stick, something remarkable did happen, I wrote. I wrote more fiction in May than I’ve ever written at an given time prior. In all of that writing I leaned some things about writing that will help in the coming months and as I continue to write. And since I’m a techy/geeky kind of guy, I’ve included stats of this challenge below as well.

Lessons:

I learned that I really like to free write. I always thought I was more of an outliner but the story didn’t come till I just start writing. With fiction only lasting a few hundred words I didn’t really need much of a direction, but with bigger pieces like a novel, I think I’ll setup key points that I want to happen and then just start free writing till I get to them.

I’m not a “5 minute writer”. If I only had 5 minutes to write I wouldn’t write and just miss that day. I needed at least a good hour before I would even consider writing. From this I now know that I need to schedule blocks of time for writing instead of just fitting it in.

I learned that every story I posted to my blog will be very hard to sell. (Honestly I don’t think I would sell any of the as they stand anyway.) I didn’t realize that posting stories online 1. makes the piece harder to publish traditionally (because once online someone can get it without paying?) and 2. doing so uses up the first time digital printing rights to the story, leaving just reprint rights for digital copies going forward.  So what does that mean for this blog? All the stories I post wont be full stories, just scenes from stories, or stories that I don’t much care to publish anyway. So no worries there.

For someone who wants to be a Sci-Fi and Fantasy writer I sure wrote a lot of general fiction. Every time I wanted to write a Sci-Fi piece I got bogged down in the science and wanting to get it right or feeling I couldn’t make a compelling story in a short story.  Fantasy was much the same. What came easy was contemporary fiction that had nothing out of the ordinary or fantastical in it. I believe this is a manifestation of not having a lot of time to do any speculative fiction justice (point 2) and not planning anything before writing (point 1).

Lastly, this isn’t really a new lesson, but I’m reminded about my most glaring flaws in writing, poor grammar and switching between present and past tense all the time. I tried to pay attention as much as I could to such errors, but quite a few made it online and I haven’t gone back to revise them; and probably wont, at least not without rewriting and fleshing out the story.

Stats:

Stories: Anticipated — 22, Actual — 18
Twitter Fiction: 5
Total Word Count: 13,851
Average Word Count: 767
Average Word Count (minus Twitter Fiction): 1,054
Shortest Story Length (in words): 22
Longest Story Length (in words): 3,478
Story Genres: Fantasy (1), General Fiction (6), Sci-Fi (2), Paranormal (3), Exercises* (2), Fairy Tale (1), Suspense (1), Humor (2)
Favorites: Moral Battle, Beware the Dragon, and Holy Communication

*Writing that doesn’t fit in a genre. I was practicing writing descriptively an object/person, not a real story.

 

Today is a make up day, since I normally don’t write on Sundays. Since it is Sunday, I decided to write a story about one of the religious themed ideas I came up with awhile ago. I tried my hardest to show not tell when explaining how this prayer like ritual works. Let me know what you think about my efforts to do so, or how you think it works after reading the story!

 

Jonas knelt down in front of the alter, after waiting several hours for his turn. He breathed slowly to calm his nerves. The summersaults of us stomach didn’t help either. Jonas had some difficult questions that needed answering, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to ask them, at least not this way. The ritual requires the utmost concentration and focus so the priest’s gave Jonas the time to calm his nerves and prepare for the Holy Communication.

Jonas has always been a religious man, and prayed every day, but he had been running into a really rough patch and needed not just blessing but specific answers. His friends said he should participate in the next Holy Communication to get the answer once and for all. But when you are sitting around a table frustrated with life committing to participating in a Holy Communication is pretty easy.

“But what if the answer is no?” “What if He doesn’t answer my question?” “What if I die?” These were all questions that were bouncing around Jonas’s head as he began the ritual. Even though this was his first time, Jonas knew exactly what to do. Every person is trained from childhood how to participated in Holy Communication. It was the crowning ritual in the religion. His hands and moved with exact precision and he said the right words at the right time, but his mind wouldn’t put aside the fears.

“You aren’t going to die,” said Jonas’s good friend Jake on the way to the church. “That last time a first time communication ended in death was almost 10 years ago, and the person doing the Communication was 92 and at that point the Age Effect was tramendous.”

“I know, but the fact that it’s possible still makes me worry. I mean I’m not a young buck anymore. At 45 years old 1 hour Communication could age me a year.” replied Jonas.

“Thousands of people participate in Holy Communication every year, many of them multiple times and the death rate is minimal and nobody cares if you look a little older…”

“Minimal?!” cut in Jonas, “How can you attribute anyone’s death as minimal. I don’t even know why death is even a possible outcome! If I had a kid and the kid wanted to call me up to talk I wouldn’t roll a dice and if it lands on a two push a button to zap him on the other side. That’s just crazy!”

“Jonas you are just getting worked up. You know that God doesn’t randomly kill people who he is Communicating with. The connection requires a great amount of focus and work to maintain. If you let up then your mind is lost forever in the connection. Think of it more like you holding up a collapsing tunnel. If you stay focused and keep the celling up you are fine. If you stop holding it up the tunnel collapses with you in it. It’s all up to you, and you are probably best to do it.”

“If I were a kind God I would make Communications as easy as walking down a trail, not burrowing into the hill side!” stated Jonas in a matter of fact tone.

“Well, then why don’t you ask him why death is a possible outcome of a Communication?” replied Jake.

“For several reason’s. One, you are only guaranteed one question per Communication and I don’t want to waste it on that question; and I don’t want to have to do this again if I have to. Plus people have already asked that question and the answer is ‘worship requires work’.

Jake pulled into the church’s parking lot at that moment and turned to Jonas after stopping the car. “Jonas you are probably the most religious man I know. You’ve spent the past 40 years preparing for this ritual and your focus and strength is unparalleled. You will be fine. Take comfort that by this time tomorrow you’ll know how to get your life out of this mess.”

Jonas reviewed that last bit of the conversation in his mind, which did bring a little bit of comfort. “Well I guess it’s now or never,” and with that Jonas began creating the tunnel to God.

In his mind’s eye there was blackness. He pushed at the blackness, desiring to be a tunnel instead. At first he wanted a trail, but those are the kind of thoughts that get you killed so he tucked that thought away just after it slipped into his stream of conscience. A tunnel is what he needed, a tunnel between him and God. He pushed as the blackness and eventually gave way to slight hole.

He pushed and strained against the hold till it was a tunnel that was about a foot shorter than he was. “The bigger the tunnel the least likely you’ll get lost in it.” That is what everyone says, so Jonas pushed harder, putting every ounce of concentration on it. After several minutes of mental strain Jonas had a tunnel big enough to drive a bus through. Feeling pretty confident about that size he began the trek through the tunnel.

Jonas took one step into his tunnel and was instantly on the other side. “Whoa!” Jonas thought, “They say the hard part is creating the tunnel, the journey is quick but that was ridiculous.” A smile started to spread across Jonas’s face as he approached God’s throne. In Heaven fear, doubt, and worry just wash away. Jonas felt better than he had in serval months. Maybe this whole Holy Communication thing isn’t that bad after all.

“Approach Jonas son” boomed God. “What question do you seek from me?”

Jonas’s heart skipped a beat, then made up for lost time. Jonas slowly walked up to God’s throne, all while keeping his eyes towards the ground, and bowed down on one knee. Jonas opened his mouth to speak but nothing came, so he closed his mouth.

He waited several more seconds then tried again. “I’ve come for guidance on what I should do.” squeaked Jonas. After several seconds God answered, it a very patient tone, “That is fine, I shall give you guidance, ask your question.”

Jonas mentally berated himself, “dummy don’t just saw I want to ask a question, ask it.” God chuckled slightly and reassured Jonas, “don’t be too hard on yourself, most people can’t even ask the question the first time.”

Jonas’s eyes went wide he hadn’t made the connection before that an all knowing God could read his thoughts. At that same moment, the last of his fear left as he was comforted by the patient and encouraging answer and was finally able to relax.

“God I’ve spent my whole life trying to serve you. I haven’t come to you before this point because I haven’t wanted to bother you, but I don’t know what to do any more. When will I find a woman that I can be joined in marriage?”

Jonas had 10 times more questions he wanted to ask but after days and days preparing for this Communication, Jonas figured this questioned answered would resolve most if not all of his other questions. Plus if it doesn’t, this whole experience wasn’t so bad, maybe he will try another Holy Communication the next one around.

“Jonas, Jonas, Jonas. I’ve been trying to help you with this one for many years. I’ve put many women in your path and you just pass them by. If you would have Communicated with me sooner then you may not have missed the opportunities I sent you. You are always looking for something better around the corner. What else can I do when you wont accept the gifts I’m trying to give?”

Fear started to enter into Jonas’s mind. Fear that he lost his chance and he would have to live and die a single man. This fear at first seemed very distant, almost like someone yelling from a mile away. But as he focused on it got louder, and with it so did his tunnel just behind him.

“Please God. I’m sorry if I wasn’t satisfied. I didn’t realize you were answering my many prayers. It just seemed the woman I’ve meet weren’t what I needed. Please give me another chance. Please!” At this Jonas looked up to plead with God in desperation and immediately regretted it. For as soon as he made eye connection with God the Communication was over, and Jonas started to get pulled back down his tunnel, that now could only fit a car.

God stood as Jonas was being pulled away, and with compassion in His eyes said, “One more time, just one more time.” Jonas could barley make out the last words as he was being pulled faster and faster through his every shrinking tunnel.

Jonas was frustrated at himself for foolishly looking up and ending the Communication. He still had questions to ask, like when was this other chance? Who should he be looking out for? His tunnel was getting smaller and smaller, but Jonas didn’t even notice he was too focused on what questions weren’t answered.

The tunnel was about the size of a small rock cave when Jonas finally ended on the thought, “When I came to Communication I thought I would never find a wife. Though I don’t know when God will give me another opportunity, but at least I know I will get another opportunity; and that is something to be thankful for.”

The tunnel stopped shrinking and a moment later Jonas was back in his own mind, surrounded by his own darkness with a small tunnel opening in front of him. Jonas slowly opened his eyes to see the alter before him and a very worried priest to his side.

“You’re back!” said the priest in hushed tones, but full of relief. “I thought I was going to lose you. I noticed a few minutes ago that you started fidgeting and swaying and those are signs of someone losing their focus. And right at the end there your body started going limp.” The priest sat back on the chair next to the alter and signed again. “How did you stop from losing your mind in the tunnel anyway?”

Jonas was a bit taken back. He didn’t even realize that he was almost lost. He thought about it and looking back his tunnel had shrunken considerably from when  he started. “I guess I didn’t like the answer I got and that shook me up so my tunnel started to collapse. I ended my Communication with God accidentally, but that is probably a good thing since it gave me a chance to make it back through my tunnel before it collapsed completely.”

The priest nodded at this and tucked that information aside for later pondering. No one, to his knowledge, had ever been that close to being lost but lived to tell about it. “Looking back,” continued Jonas, “I sensed the tunnel shrinking around me as I was being pulled back. The shrinking stopped when I accepted God’s answer and was grateful for it even though it wasn’t want I was hoping for.”

The priest leaned forward and asked in a hushed tone, “So you are saying that by accepting God’s answer, even though it isn’t what you wanted to hear, saved you from being lost?” Jonas looked at the priest with a bit of a half smile and nodding, “I guess so.”

The priest leaned back and stared off into space for a moment. He then snapping back to reality and said, as he got up, “Well if you accepted God’s answer, I suggest you go and do something about it.” He gave Jonas a wink and they shook each other’s hands and Jonas walked a way with a bit of bounce in his step. The priest smiled as the next person in line kneeled before the alter.

The priest leaned close to this new worshiper’s ear and said, “Don’t worry my boy. Focus and build the biggest tunnel you can, and once you get the answer accept it and you’ll do just fine.” The young boy nodded vigorously and the priest just smiled as he sat back, and thought, “no more deaths on my watch.”

 

I recently read something about how I should write with short words and short sentences till I’ve mastered short. Tonight I took that idea to the “next level!” Short words, short sentences, and short story. Boom Baby!

 

He types furiously. Air supply is low. He must break in. Vision going blurry. Access granted. He overrides lockdown. Air returns. Salvation.

 

I really need to stop writing just before bed. I find when I do my stories are very much shorten due to an intense desire to sleep. This story comes to me after watching a documentary on Nova about the great role telescopes made in discovering the cosmos. All I could think about when I sat down to write was telescopes and space. I may have to come back to this little story and making into something a bit longer.

 

Jo peered through the telescope watching the same dot for months. Nothing ever changed with it, that is till a night in late spring when the dot winked at her. She thought something must have flown across the lens for just a moment, but there was was still an impression of light coming from the dot even when it winked. Jo sat back trying to figure out what was going on when she noticed something strange that the computer was detecting and returned to the telescope to view the anomaly.

It seemed to her like the winking light was getting bigger, no brighter. Her breath caught in her throat and double checked that her computer was recording this. She may be one of the few people on Earth to record a planet going super nova. This new thought took root and she pushed her questions of winking lights aside and watches as this planet died. Only it didn’t die. Within moment’s the light reached across time and space and plucked Jo right off her seat next to her telescope and whisked her off into a galaxy only know as M82 never to be seen by human eyes again.

 

It’s late, and I need to get to bed so I can start my morning ritual soon.

 

“BUZZZZZZZZ BUZZZZZZZZ BUZZZZZZZZ!” With an almost automatic and fluid motion I reach out and slam my palm over the snooze button. It’s 6:00 AM and like yesterday, and the day before; I don’t want to give up. Last night I had all good intentions to get up at 6 so I could work out, but that was last night when I was lucid. Now? Well I may be lucid, but that doesn’t men I have to get up.

I know later today I’ll kick myself for sleeping in, I do every day. Once I’m in the shower I’ll see my sagging middle section and wish it was gone. The only way for that to happen is to get up, right now, and go exercise. Last week I got up at 6 and did exercise and I felt great all day. I just need to slide my leg out from the covers and slip the the ground. Once I’m out from this blanket I’ll be awake enough to actually do what I know I need to do.

Well exercising only takes about 30 minutes and 10 minutes for a shower. That means I can just lay here a little bit longer before I have to get up. There is no harm in that. The fact that I can think this clearly right now means I’m awake and my brain is spinning up so I really can’t go to sleep again any way. I’ll just rest a few more minutes and then I’ll get up and go exercise.

“BUZZZZZZZZ BUZZZZZZZZ BUZZZZZZZZ!” What is that noise? What is that… Oh, yeah the alarm. I guess I wasn’t as awake as I thought I was. Thank goodness for the Snooze Button. With just a few more minutes of rest, I feel great and now it’s time to start exercising. I’ll just turn off this alarm…

“Ah crap! I must have turned off the snooze. It’s 7:00 am and now I’m going to be late for work!”

 

Today’s story was suppose to be a Twitter story, but 140 character’s just wouldn’t cut it, so I made it a two tweet story. ;-)

 

The ball drop from sleeping fingers and rolled a few feet away. With a pop the ball transformed into it’s true robotic form. Now free the robot can finally accomplish it’s mission. With a tiny whir, the robot zipped into the nearest hay stack in search for that elusive needle!

 

Today’s story is another one that is inspired from a picture. Read the story and then click the More link to see the picture that inspired the piece.

 

Liz walked down the street trying to look at every person she passed without trying to look like she was looking at every person. She was was nervous and had to restrain herself to walk any faster than a brisk walk. Normally walking down a busy street in the middle of the day Liz would carry her purse by hanging the straps on her shoulder and allowing the bag to rest between her body and her arm, but she wasn’t thinking straight today. Because of the quickness in her pace the purse had slipped down to rest in the crook in her arm.

Liz flicked the hold button on her phone to activate the screen to see the time. Normally she would put the phone back in her purse but instead she just let her arm rest with the phone staying firmly in her hand. It was 2:57 pm and she wanted to know it was 3:00 pm. She was expecting a call that she hoped wouldn’t come. Liz was wondering down a different part of town than she normally strays hoping the departure from her normal pattern will be to her benefit. After about a block she looked at her pone again, 3:00 pm. She abruptly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and just stared at the phone willing it to turn 3:01 pm.

After a few seconds the screen’s auto off timer elapsed and the screen turned off. Liz blinked a moment, then realized what happened and fumbled with her thumb to hit the button to turn on the screen again. Just then the phone rang; Liz froze. After the third ring she slowly answered the phone.

“Hello?” said Liz.

“Hello Liz. Are you trying to run away from me?”

“Uhh… No. I’m not running.”

“It’s three and you aren’t where you are suppose to be. “

Liz’s heart jumped into her throat. She started looking around to see if she could see the person who she was speaking to on the phone.

“I’m here,” said Liz, “just like you told me to be.”

“Oh you are here, but not where I told you to be and defiantly not dressed up like I asked you to be. I asked you to wear a little spaghetti strap red dress, but your green pleated dress is far from the little red thing you should be wearing.” Liz knew she was caught. He had found her, somehow he found her. With all the twists and short cuts he was able to still stay up with her. She slowly turned round looking at tops of buildings trying to catch her stalker.

“I see that you’ve gotten a hair cut. I thought the curls looked best on you, but this straight messy looks pretty good on you. Now that it’s straight I guess you are right, your hair does go down to your shoulders. Though I like the straight look, the bangs that come past your eyes isn’t really fashionable any more.”

Without thinking Liz combed through her hair, making it even more of a mess. Liz wondered if she should run or what she should do. Maybe if she turned and ran into the department store across the street she could get away before he can catch up.

“Don’t even thinking about running. I can see the thought cross those big beautiful brown eyes. You never have been good at hiding your thoughts. I could always read your eyes like a book. Come now Liz why such the drawn face. You have such angelic features why not enhance it with your pretty smile?”

Liz felt her heart beat increase. She knew that she was caught and instead of dealing with her assailant any longer she lost her temper and started yelling into her phone. “Why do you talk like we use to be together. I’ve never been with you and never will! I don’t love you. I don’t like you. In fact I despise you! Leave me alone.” With this she hung her phone, forcefully threw it in her purse and ran.

She wasn’t sure if she could get away but she didn’t care, she wanted to get away. Instead of bolting into the department store she turned right and dashed down an ally between the street she was on and the next. She could hear foot steps behind her and they were coming in close.

“Stop Liz! I don’t want to hurt you. In fact and I want to just love you.” came the same voice from the phone. Liz didn’t even take a chance to look at who was chasing her. Liz cleared the ally and turned right running into mid day crowds. She was glad that she wore the pumps and not the heels. She wouldn’t have gotten as far on heels. After a few moments she darting through the crowds making their way from shop to shop, Liz started to feel like she got away. She couldn’t hear anyone running behind her or any yelling, just the bustle of the crowd. Her paced slowed and she started to feel the fear seep away.

But he always came back, so she was still being cautious. She saw half way down the block, standing at the intersection, a traffic policeman. Though she felt like she escaped she still wanted to be sure and started to wave down the officer. After a few waves, he saw her and began moving towards her. She decided to explain to the officer what just happened and simply ask to stay by his side for a few minutes till she caught her breath and her friend could come and pick her up. With that thought a smile started to slip across her face.

When she was about 10 paces from the officer a man stepped in front of her and stopped her from walking. He grabbed her upper arms and held her in place.

“You thought you could out run me? I love you and nothing can stop me from being with you, green dress and all. Hey where’s that smile I just saw? Come on love give us a smile”

Re-found fear surged through Liz’s body. She tried to back away but he was too strong and she couldn’t get him to let go. She pulled and twisted but he wouldn’t let go. She was taking in a breath to scream but before she could get a word out he pulled her close to his body and smothered her mouth with his lips. Her scream was muffled, but people around her could see there was a problem and started to step away and make a clearing around them. The many holding Liz just kept his lips pressed to hers, waiting for he to give up the fight, but it didn’t come. What came was a sharp pain at the base of his skull from the baton that the traffic police officer was holding.

The man fell to the ground trying to piece together what just happened before he blacked out. Liz also stunned to be suddenly free looked down at the crumpled man on the ground and then back up to see the police officer she waved to earlier standing there with a baton in his hand. She leaped for the police officer and gave him the biggest hug she could. Now it was the police officer’s turn to be stunned, but after a moment returned the hug. He stood there holding Liz till the crying stopped and she pulled away.

“Thank you so much,” Liz said while trying to control her breathing from crying. “This man has been stalking me for the past 6 months and today I’m sure if you didn’t save me I may not be alive tomorrow.” The officer nodded as he picked up his radio and called for a two squad cars to come and pick up a man who sexually assaulted a woman. Liz stayed with her savior till the first squad car showed up. The traffic officer asked the first squad car to take her back to the precinct to get her testimony then take her home. With the now hand cuffed assailant waking up, the traffic officer read him his rights as the second squad car pulled up, and then promptly threw him into the back seat after informing him, the he was under arrest for stalking and aggravated assault.

As the second squad car pulled away, the traffic officer walked back to his corner and thought, “I guess it isn’t so bad being a street cop. I think I’ll stay put.” He then pulled out his whistle and holding up his hand walked into the intersection and started back to his duty of directing traffic, his break was over. Read on »

Tonight’s story is another example of me just writing till I figured out what the character’s story. All I had in mind was a character named Susan staring at a door blankly when I started. A 1,000 + words later her story was told. Enjoy. Note: No editing tonight, too late, so sorry for the confusing bits due to my poor grammar.

 

Susan walked up to the dinner doors and paused. This was her evening ritual since she returned to her home town a month before. Every night she would walk to the dinner, stop and the door, staring at the metal support between each door. She touched the handle tentatively and waited. The regulars inside would always wait to see if today was the day she’d come in. After the first week a few tried to go out and talk to her, try to find out why she came to the door every night to just stand there for a few minutes than leave. As soon as one would open the door she seemed to come out of her trance and would briskly walk away without responding to the yelled question from the diner.

No one in the diner knew who she was. The regulars speculated that she was actually a ghost who died at the diner waiting for her fiance to show up so they could run away together. A few suggested she just likes the feel of the diner’s handle. Those few usually got scowls from the women in the diner who prefer the the tragic love story theory. Whatever the popular theory was at the time, the real answer was only known to Susan and every night that reason walked away with her after she stared between the two doors to the diner.

Tonight was the same as the rest, but it couldn’t be. As Susan stood there with her hand gently resting on the handle she told her self she couldn’t just walk off again. Tonight was her last night in town and she didn’t know when she would be back. As she stood there staring off to space a murmur in the diner picked up.

“She normally doesn’t stand there this long,” whispered one lady.

“That is because you are watching her. Go back to your food and leave her in peace.” whispered the woman’s husband.

“Maybe she’ll open the door this time.” commented another regular.

As Susan’s hand slipped away from the door’s handle someone else said, “Or maybe not. We can depend on our little ghost.” But Susan didn’t leave. She continued to stare at the door, but not seeing it. She stood there, for what seemed hours to all of the onlookers. Suddenly she shook her head, as if to get something off  it and firmly grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. The people in the diner were so stunned, one woman actually fainted with the fear that a ghost could actually touch physical things, the entire establishment went quiet as a church on Saturday.

Susan slowly stepped in and thought it was odd that there was no sound in the entire establishment, not even the sound of knives and forks on glass plates. As she walked into the diner someone slowly started to clap, then another, then another. After a moment the entire diner was applauding for Susan, for she finally walked in. Susan was very confused with this behavior, she hadn’t done anything spectacular, yet everyone was looking at her and clapping. The few eyes she looked at winked or teared up. It’s as if she just saved a kitten from a burning tree.

As Susan stood there trying to figure out what just happened the diner’s cook came out to figure out what was going on and stopped dead in her tracks in front of Susan. The clapping stopped to. Susan looked forward to see a spitting image of her self looking back at her. If Susan was wearing the same clothes of the cook she would have thought she was looking in a mirror. The woman looking back at her was equally stunned and after a moment slowly lifted her arm and lightly poked Susan in the shoulder. Susan slowly smiled as  Cynthia lowered her arm with a very perplexed look on her face.

“Hi. My name is Susan Rarchild,” said Susan as she stretched out her hand, “I’m your sister.” Cynthia’s hands quickly moved to cover her now gaping mouth as tears built up in her eyes. “I thought my sister was dead” whispered Cynthia through tears and the wash cloth she was holding.

“No I’m not dead. I was taken by our dad at the hospital just after we were born. He tried to take us both, but didn’t think he would have gotten away with it, so he just grabbed me. He told me about you about 6 months ago just before he passed away due to prostate cancer.” Now Susan was crying. “I’ve been trying to work up the nerve for a month to come in and introduce myself, but I didn’t know what to say. Tonight is my last night in town. Tomorrow I’m flying back to New Jersey, so I only had one more chance to meet you.”

Susan trailed off, not knowing what to say next and just stood board still; so did everyone else in the diner. Cynthia looked at the woman that was identical to her in every way. Her sister back from the dead, only to disappear again. Without warning Cynthia stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Susan. Susan returned the embrace and they stood like that for several minutes just crying on each other’s shoulders.

Once the tears were exhausted, Cynthia pulled back, now smiling, said to Susan. “Hi Susan. My name is Cynthia. Welcome home.” Cynthia then turned and told her boss, “My sisters in town and we have a lot of catching up to do. I’m taking off a bit early tonight.” Cynthia’s boss just laughed and just waived. Cynthia turned back to Susan, took her arm in her’s, and walking to the door said, “I want to introduce you to my… our mom.”

Susan’s face light up then went pale. “But what if she doesn’t like me, or faint like that woman did” Susan pointed to a woman who lied on the ground completely unnoticed to everyone else in the diner. “Not like you?” said Cynthia as she opened the door, “You are practically me, and she just adores me! She’ll love you.” With that the two of them walked out of the diner and marched down the street, arm in arm towards mother’s.

 

Tonight I just didn’t have much energy to keep working on my unfinished story from yesterday, having spent that last 3 hours doing Calculus homework. What came out is this interesting piece. How did I get the idea for this story? I just started typing till I was done.

 

Once upon a time lived a funny old man. He lived in a perfectly normal looking suburbs outside of Chicago. Everyone in the neighborhood avoid this man because of his quirks. From time to time he would come running out of his house screaming at the top of his lungs about everyone being killed. After being crouched with his hands over his head, on the far side of the street for several minutes, with nothing happening did his screaming stop. He would then slowly turn and look at his vacant house, and when no one died he would timidly shuffle back into his home.

On May 17th he preformed the running and screaming act as he had done some many times before that his neighbors didn’t even bother a second glance. That is till his screaming slowly faded to silence. “How very strange”, they all thought, “the screaming always stopped abruptly before. It has never fade to silence.” Upon further examination it seems that the funny old man never stopped on the other side of the street as he usually did. This time he kept running farther and farther away, hence why the screaming faded instead of stopped. The neighbors of this funny old man came to their windows to see what was going on. Some even opened their front doors and stepped out.

Many of them were scratching their heads as they made eye contact one with the other to see if anyone else had an idea what was going on. In the now silent air a rumbling could be heard from the funny old man’s house. Now the neighbors where staring at the funny old man’s house, not the direction the funny old man ran to. A few daring people slowly approached the house just as the ground started to shake violently. The thought crossed everyone’s mind just a bit too late, “maybe this time he was right and we are all going to die.” As some thought to run after the funny old man a large explosion went of just as the earth shaking reached the apex and wiped out the whole neighborhood.

Then End.

 

Another quick Twitter post. I’m hoping I’ll have time tomorrow for a longer story.

She squirmed under the bright light. “Where were you last night?” asked the cop. “I was sludging through your silly memoirs dear!” “Oh… Thanks.”