And onto the competition!
Judges This Week: Rin and Mars
Word count: 300 max
How: Submit your stories as a comment to this post, along with your name, word count, and title (and Twitter handle or blog if you've got 'em!). Only one entry per person.
Deadline: Midnight tonight, PDT!
Results announced: Next Wednesday!
Remember: The prompt can be mutilated, but not beyond recognition.
YOUR PROMPT:
"Smiling at me every few days is not the same as telling me you're not going to kill me."
"Smiling at me every few days is not the same as telling me you're not going to kill me."
ReplyDelete@firdausp
Character tantrums
(261 words)
"Smiling at me every few days is not the same as telling me you're not going to kill me." She mutters under her breath, loud enough for me to hear.
I stand in the doorway watching her, trying my best to smile.
"Do you have any idea what you have done?" My smile wavers a little.
"You want me to read that list you gave me? I know it by heart."
"I see, you still believe I made up those things."
"I did not put Margo into the washing machine! Okayyyy...I was really angry when she scratched and tore my lovely sofa but I didn't switch on the machine! I swear!"
"You burnt my books!"
"It wasn't me! I love books, though I was curious about that cabinet you kept locked. I was a little angry when I couldn't break in. But I wouldn't burn your study. No way!"
"Look at your hand!"
"Yeah, it hurts. You shouldn't have broken it!"
"You really believe that, don't you? You don't remember throwing a tantrum and punching walls?"
"Ha! You're such a liar, all writers are."
"Whatever you say and do—you're not in my next book."
I watch her face flush with anger as I gently shut the door and turn the key.
Maybe I should kill her. A few sentences and she'd be gone. Somehow that seems such a waste of a complex character and to be honest I am rather fond of her.
I whistle as I go off to explore other rooms in my head. I have a book to write, damn it!
Cut Throat
ReplyDelete168 words
@mishmhem
#FlashDog
"You know, smiling at me every few days… it’s not the same as telling me you aren’t going to kill me…" Penelope sighed as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“I’m disappointed to her you say that,” Rogers sighed. “You should know me well enough by now…”
Penelope looked at him from over her glasses as if to say, ‘Dude, I do know you more than ‘well enough’ by now.’
He gave her a sheepish shrug. “I promise you. When I plan on killing you— you’ll know.”
“This,” she told him. “Is not nearly as comforting as you might think… Try phrases like: ‘I have no intention of killing you’ or ‘You know I’d never hurt you…’ Phrases like that build confidence.”
“But you know, I’ll never lie to you…”
Penelope sighed and shook her head. “You have a lot to learn about ‘comforting.’”
“This is war. They didn’t call it ‘See how many cards you can take nicely.’”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Got any threes?”
“Go Fish!”