Saturday, September 12, 2015

Cracked Flash: Year 1, Week 12

I totally tried to write a Trippin' Thursday story that was less than 1k long and found out there's a character limit on the comments! Like 4056 characters or something. Boo, Blogspot, boo! Guess you'll have to chain-post if you want to have more than like 800 words on your Trippin' Thursdays.

Fortunately, you only have to write 300 words (or less)!

Take a looksy through the full rules if you haven't already!

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.


Her face was painted gold, her eyes as hard and dark as coal.


  1. Babylon

    297 words


    Her face was painted gold, her eyes as hard and dark as coal. Silken robes draped her body, regal in purple and scarlet to show she had been someone once.

    Simon studied the casket label, Resurrection 01.01.2050. “Looks like today’s her lucky day.”

    “Any family in attendance?” asked Jenni.

    “Not sure. I’ve a guest list of seven names but I don’t know if they’re related. They should all be here by now.”

    “Is there a name?” Jenni was peering at his notes.

    He looked down. “Just says Mystery.”

    “The original mystery woman,” laughed Jenni. “Like one of your bad detective novels … or that woman from the Bible.”

    “Huh? What woman?” Simon had no time for biblical fairytales.

    “You know, the one in the bit about the end of the world.”

    Still he shrugged his shoulders. Religion had caused nothing but death and destruction. Such stories had no relevance anymore.

    A buzzer recalled them to their duties. Jenni punched in a code and the casket disappeared from view. Mystery was on her way.

    The two attendants returned to the Resurrection Room. It was here, in the soft glow of holo-candles and to the strains of Mozart that the once dead were gently recalled.

    The guests were already there, lined up like a guard of honour alongside the empty bier. A hatch opened in the wall and the casket appeared, sliding gently onto the waiting platform.

    Jenni and Simon stood either side of her, monitoring heart and brain as she was slowly revived. Then they lifted the lid and those coal black eyes looked right at them, right into them. She smiled a terrible smile.

    Seven pairs of hands reached out to raise her up.

    “Babylon,” whispered one.

    Beneath their feet the ground trembled. Her time had come.

  2. Words: 299

    Life on Canvas

    Her face was painted gold, her eyes hard and dark as coal. Lifeless upon the canvas, she stared out unseeing at the workshop. Her artist started adding more flourishes with his finest needle and silk. Jarl traced filigree with threads the colour of rubies, emeralds, and the finest silver. Sapphire strands lay ready to colour her eyes, but the artist did not pick that up yet. The eyes came last. He always brought the canvas to life that way.

    The workshop fell quiet as their patron entered. The artist looked around and continued on while the patron inspected a finished tapestry against the far wall. It showed his son on the battlefield raising the banner bearing the family crest.

    "It looks just like him!" the patron exclaimed. "It even smiles just like he did!" The man reached out to touch the threads, but the picture kept on changing as before.

    "It will not respond like the living would," one of the artists said.

    Jarl sat back and regarded his work. Though unmoving, she did look alive but for the eyes. Those eyes that once regarded him with love.

    "You capture my daughter well, artist," the patron said. He never did bother learning names. She had always called him Jarl. Never sir Tellah or artist Tellah. If he closed his eyes he could still feel her lips on his.

    Jarl nodded, not trusting his own voice.

    "I am sure her new husband will like it as well. Will you be finished in time for their wedding tomorrow?"

    Jarl nodded and picked up the blue thread while his eyes burned with tears. He had to remember her eyes when she was happy and in love. Not the way they looked on the day she had to say goodbye.

  3. @firdausp
    Letting go
    (300 words)

    Her face was painted with makeup, a gold chain with a teardrop solitair (her mother's) wound round her neck. Her cobalt eyes were soft against the evening lights.
    His were as hard and dark as coal, as he watched her twirl around the dance floor in the young man's arms.
    She danced well, matching her steps smoothly with her partner's. Her white gown swished around her ankles. She had discarded her veil and her hair fell down her back in golden waves. He had taught her those steps, she was a good student. For a moment he felt proud of her. But as he watched her look lovingly into the young man's eyes he felt the cold fingers of jealousy curl around his heart.
    The young man bent to whisper something in her ear. She smiled, blushing. As the music died, she went on her toes and kissed him.
    The room exploded with loud clapping and whistles.
    He couldn't take it anymore, so he switched off the TV. He had to accept that she'd moved on. She didn't need him anymore. What would she want to do tied down to an old man anyway? A young spirit should be allowed to fly free. He'd never let her sense his anxiety, but now in the quiet house it hit him.
    She was away on her honeymoon to some exotic destination. She'd gushed about it ad nauseum. He hadn't been interested.
    Just then his phone rang.
    It was her.
    "Hello, I just called to let you know we've landed safely. I can't tell you how excited I am. How are you?"
    "Fine...I miss you."
    " It's too noisy here, I can't hear you. He's waiting by the taxi. I'll call you from the hotel, okay?"
    "Sure," he muttered.
    "And Dad...I love you."

  4. J-4FLE (Just for Fun Late Entry)
    Word Count: 21

    Sci-Fi Guy

    His face was painted gold, his eyes
    As hard and dark as coal.
    His voice an unemotive trill...
    I love C-3PO.

  5. J-4FLE (Just for Fun Late Entry)
    Word Count: 21

    Sci-Fi Guy

    His face was painted gold, his eyes
    As hard and dark as coal.
    His voice an unemotive trill...
    I love C-3PO.