Saturday, May 27, 2017

Cracked Flash: Year 2, Week 40

Cracked Flash is up and running! :)

Judge this week: Kelly

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!). One entry per person.

Midnight tonight, PDT.

Results announced: Next Wednesday

Remember: Your entry must begin with the prompt! The prompt can be mutilated, but not beyond recognition. (Pictures do not need to be incorporated into your stories: they're for inspiration (and amusement).)

"Scrape that off before you..."


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. Words: 292
    The Light

    “Scrape that off before he gets back!” That panicked look on my face must have scared her into work because she furiously rubbed. I did not want to be here when he saw what she had done. This was a disaster, an absolute disaster and he would blame me as usual. I could never do anything right. My growth spurt in summer meant I was trying to be better than him by growing. My A+ report card was trying to say he is stupid. I could never figure it out.

    Julia left a big watery mess where she had scraped the gum off. I tried wiping up the excess but it was too late. He was here.

    “What in god’s name is this?” His veins nearly popping from his head.
    “It was an accident.” I tried sounding sorry but I wasn’t. He tried leaving us in the dark while he sat in the light. Julia and I also wanted to leave but we were trapped in here. He didn’t own this mind, he never understood what we could do. David had always left us behind, going out into the spotlight as if he were the only person who mattered. I needed to get out, if David was here that meant I could leave and he would be trapped. My mind raced as I ran to the light ignoring the calls behind me.

    They call it multiple personality disorder but they don’t realise each personality is an individual person with their own thoughts. It is like sitting in the wings waiting for your turn on stage, some take more than others. Some join you on stage. It’s my turn now, maybe I can change something today, maybe I can get rid of David.

  3. Word count:295

    Teen Angst

    “Scrape that muck off your shoes before you come in!” she yelled. Seriously. This woman was always on my case about something. What an overbearing nag! My poor father. What on earth had he ever seen in her? I know you’re supposed to respect your parents, but he’s weak and she’s a pain. There was no excitement in their lives and they thrust together to be boring in an existence where floors must be kept pristine.

    1944 – France

    “Bring that soldier over here!” she yelled as she pushed the medicine cupboard out of the tent to make room. Her face was slick with sweat. She wiped a strand of hair that was plastered against her face and grabbed the soldier’s legs as she heaved him up onto the table. His injuries were severe but it was the fear in his eyes that captivated her.

    “You’ll be okay,” she said, trying to force calm into her voice. This was a sentence she had repeated hundreds of times during this war. Sometimes it was true. More often times not. This soldier seemed different though. He knew she was lying. He grabbed her hand and whispered, “Thank-you.” She had been on her feet for forty-six hours already, but in that moment she decided she would stay until there was an outcome one way or another for this man. He was in delirium most of the night from the fever raging though his body, but she got to know a little of his life from before the war. Strange first date that.

    Six weeks later he was sent home. Two years after that they were married. They wanted to forget the war and live content, peaceful lives raising their children. They were grateful for the opportunity to do so.

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  5. Sam Lauren
    Word Count: 300
    Twitter: @the_Word_of_Sam


    “Scrape that off before you end up like me,” Julie said. The words were distorted by her hardening face.

    I used a stick to poke at the quarter sized patch of maple sap that she hadn’t meant to share with me. Its surface smeared a little on my finger but the foundation was embedded in my pores. “It won’t,” I told her.

    “It has to.” She was pacing, slow and awkward, with her scabbed hands buried in her tears.

    “Short of cutting off my finger, there is nothing I can do.”

    Julie’s sobs tore themselves from her changing body.

    It had started the same way with her: a tiny bit of sap that leeched on her skin. Julie had paused our hike to catch her breath supported by a tree. Its sap clung to her palm like a parasite. It grew from annoyance to alien in under an hour.

    The sap spread itself along her frame, showing no prejudice for skin over clothes. It took them both. It thinned as it moved, and the coating in its wake hardened. Then it grew dark, thick, and cracked, like the bark of a tree.

    “We need to get out of the woods.”

    Julie shuffled after me for a few paces before she croaked, “I can’t.”

    I turned back to find her slumped yet standing. Exhaustion etched what little facial features I could see through her bark. “You have to.”

    I didn’t want to see it but Julie was done. Her arms did not move when I pulled them toward me. Her feet were claimed by earth, and the dirt between them moistened by a layer of the still spreading sap. This was my future.

    My own infection was crawling up my arm.

    “I’m sorry,” I said. I ran while I still could.

  6. Dragon Infestation
    By Ronel Janse van Vuuren
    254 words

    ‘Scrape that off before you stain the carpet!’ Marge yelled as Red entered the cave.

    ‘Really, you can’t walk through that forest without stepping into dragon dung. Have you done anything about the infestation yet?’ He shook his head and removed his pointy hat. ‘Obviously not or my favourite shoes wouldn’t smell like this.’ He groaned softly and with a wave of his hand the offending mess disappeared.

    ‘Where did you send it to?’ Marge asked, shivering with suspicion.

    Red sighed. ‘Nowhere that will bother you.’

    ‘The dragons aren’t my problem. They belong to Crystal – and you know how protective she is.’

    ‘She has to know that she has an overpopulation problem,’ Red said while hanging his cloak over the claws in the wall.

    ‘Maybe you should talk to her – people naturally listen to you.’

    His head snapped up from where he was admiring the newest cat that had moved in with the witch.

    ‘I will not use my powers on that poor girl. She’s misguided, not malignant.’

    Marge cowered and the cats disappeared into the darkness of the cave.

    ‘I only thought…’

    ‘You’re the one who trained her – she’s your problem, Marjorie. And if you cannot handle the situation, you will be handled.’

    Red ripped his cloak off the claws and stormed out of the cave. Everyone always expected him to sort out their mess. Well, he was done. Being Supreme Warlock should offer more than just being a Cleaner.

    A dragon swooped down and carried him off. Dragons could be great pets…

  7. Alva Holland
    299 words

    My Brother and Me

    ‘Scrape that off before you go to school, young man.’

    ‘But, Mum!’

    ‘Don’t you ‘but Mum’ me. Scrape it off before Lily sees it.’

    ‘But I didn’t… I’ll be late for school.’

    ‘I’ll write you a note, explaining why.’

    ‘You wouldn’t, Mum!’

    ‘Oh yes I would, young man, watch me.’

    ‘That would be so embarrassing.’

    ‘Embarrassing or not, that’s what will happen. Now while you’re here arguing with me you could be out there scraping that off the shed door. Do it now.’

    Kicking his heels and grumbling to himself, tripping over Ralph’s paws as he stumbled across the kitchen to the back door, Max picked up the wire brush from the concrete plinth and made his way to the shed.

    ‘Not fair. I didn’t even write it. Who wants a sister anyway? Why isn’t she a brother?’

    Max made quick work of the scraping, picked up his backpack and headed for the garden path.

    ‘Are you finished?’ he heard from the kitchen.

    ‘Yes, it’s gone. I’m going to school. If I run, I’ll get there on time.’

    ‘See you at lunchtime, Max. Don’t forget to wait for your sister at the school gate.’

    Max ran down the back laneway as fast as he could. Breathing a sigh of relief, he made the class line just before Mrs. Griffin blew her whistle.

    ‘That was a bit harsh, don’t you think.’ Max’s Dad had overheard.

    ‘Harsh? Not at all.’

    ‘He said he didn’t write it.’

    ‘Who else could have written it? It had to have been him.’

    Lily crept down the stairs, avoided her parents and sneaked outside. Disgusted to see her words scraped off the shed door where the outline of ‘Boys Only’ was just visible, she slumped her shoulders.

    Lily has a secret. She needs to tell someone.

  8. Bill Engleson
    300 grungy bits of wordy entrails and such

    A Day or Two Before the End of The World-Or, at Least, Our Neighbourhood-Something Like That, Anyways, But Who Knows as CNN is Toast

    “Scrape that off before you…”

    “Track in the mud? Seriously, Hon, that’s what you are worried about?”

    My Megikins stands in the doorway, a little wild-eyed, ferociously female, strong, sensual, MAYBE needing a bath...we’ve been without water for weeks…, but still, thank goodness for perfume…and clutching her favourite shotgun as if it was a skinny but always reliable lover.

    Meg has always been one tough cookie, even before the Donald J. Trump Zombies went apeshit.

    “Look at your boots, Ralphie. That’s not mud. Mud I could live with…”

    So, as directed, I look. Down. Briefly, I remember when I bought my Magnum Stealth Force 8.0 Wide-Width Combat Boots at Crazy Clark Wallenski’s War Surplus Emporium back in the day. My big fat feet have never been happier. The last word in comfort.

    Now, though, the glow is off my fine boots. The shine, the spit and polished love I have given them is long gone, a mucky reminder of distant times.

    “If I’m not mistaken, Ralphie, that glop on your footwear is brains, blood, and shards of human flesh. And you want to track Zombie gunk into MY house?”

    Do I feel like a complete trailer park turkey? Meg’s always been a cleanoholic. I mean that in the best way. Still, we are smack dab in the middle of an apocalypse. The Undead are on a tear trying to make sure their guy stays in the White House. You’d think she would make allowances for a little stray boot-slime. I have been up half the night, hunting them down, engaging in serious bloodshed. Doing my bit.

    But she’s right.

    “Maybe I’ll just take them off, Sweetie. That be okay?”

    “Of course, you big lug. Pucker up.”

    I do.

    We smooch and make up.

    My worlds just become a little brighter.

  9. The Importance of a Clean Windshield (299 words)
    By Sara Codair @shatteredsmooth

    “Scrape that off before you make the jump.” Dad’s voice crackled through the com. Like everything Iris’ family owned, it was utterly obsolete.

    He faded to static. Iris imagined him lecturing her on the dangers of bringing organic, terrestrial material, like pollen and seagull shit, into hyperspace.

    “Will do,” she said before turning on her craft’s wipers. Just to be safe, she set to the whole ship vibrating.

    “Make sure you don’t miss anything,” said Dad.

    “I love you, Dad. I’ll be fine, and I’ll let you know as soon as I revert to real time.” Iris punched the coordinates for Great Red Eight. She was going to be attending university there and studying materials engineering, but as she prepped for light speed, all she could think about was the party scene, and what it would finally be like to make a life for herself away from her family’s eccentricities.

    As the home-made hyper drive hummed to life and the stars stretched into lines in her space-craft’s windshield, Iris couldn’t help thinking of each glowing streak as a potentially awesome path her life could take. With hope brewing in her brain, Iris set an alarm to wake her shortly before reverting to real time and drifted off to sleep.


    Iris woke to urgent beeping. It wasn’t the alarm she set, but one alerting her to premature real-time reversion. Blinking sleep away, she stared at the controls, holding her breath until she realized she was only seconds away from her planned reversion point.

    “That could’ve been worse,” she sighed, adjusting her course.

    The ship hit resistance that shouldn’t exist in space. She peered through the view screens. A giant yellow gull was pushing her craft away from Red Eight.

    “So much for escaping eccentricity,” she muttered, radioing for aid.

  10. TipTim
    300 words

    "Scrape that muck off before you dock into the airlock" the voice sounded over the intercom.

    "What muck?" I asked puzzled as I examined myself over as quickly as my bulky suit, and the zero gravity of space allowed.

    "Side of left leg. Use the pump a few yards from the door-lock " came the drawn out reply in a tone like one who couldn't wait to punch out of a boring time cycle at work.

    I looked down and saw a dark green ooze stuck on my suit that looked like a large handful of chewed up gum. At first I was about to argue why couldn't they use an automatic Aeon-sanitizer, but I thought of the futility of it.

    The Mooring Mining company that employed us gave us this archaic suit, ancient blasters and faulty drills with a miserly amount of oxygen supply... how could I expect them to have the standard requirements for a fully operational subterranean base on a new planet colony.

    Right on cue, my suit notified me of low oxygen levels left. My first day on the new job wasn't going so good. So I trudged off to the side, muttering expletives beneath my breath which I hoped were being heard over the intercom.

    As I worked the handle of the pump, facing the nozzle to the side of my leg, hoping the pressure of the spray would be adequate, I froze in fear as the mass moved, not downwards but up along my suit going round behind to my back.
    Then as I frantically tried to get it off, my motions clumsy, I felt it melt impossibly through my suit. Then heard a menacing voice... not over the com, but telepathically.
    "Once I enter you, and get in, your entire colony is mine!"