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A Revolutionary Act

6 Nov

A 100 word homage to Eric Arthur Blair for Friday Fictioneers, a collective of writers overseen by Little Sister Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, inspired by the photo prompt below which was supplied by Alastair Forbes.

If you think it cannot happen here, you haven’t been paying attention. It is happening now.

The telescreen

The walls shook with the sound of approaching helicopters.

“We might as well say goodbye,” Winston said to Julia.

“YOU MIGHT AS WELL SAY GOODBYE!” the house shouted.

“You’re thirty years late.” Winston replied, free of the need to maintain the illusion of conformity. They could only kill him once, and thoughtcrime was thoughtcrime.

“What is it, Winston?” asked Julia. “What have you done?”

“I expressed an opinion on my blog…”

“YOU EXPRESSED AN OPINION ON YOUR BLOG…”

“How could you?” Julia asked. “The penalty is….”

“…DEATH TO PERPETRATOR. RE-EDUCATION OF RELATED INDIVIDUALS.”

The door burst open.

“Homeland Security, freeze!”

ingsoc

Screen shot 2013-11-04 at 2.04.09 AM

Dear America...

Arevolutionary act1

The Princess’ Ride

14 Aug

100 words for Friday Fictioneers, an agglomeration of writers from Earth who each week use a single photo as a catalyst for creativity.  This week’s prompt, courtesy of Roger Bultot, is shown below. My offering follows.

[[[[[[{{{{{{{{{((((((( Thanks to all who read and commented up until this point (3:00AMHST-Thursday, 15 August, 2013). I appreciate the feedback. I posted about 24 hours ago and made a mistake in the writing of the version below. Though many have commented kindly about the story, I am going to edit it for clarity (I hope). The second (better?) version will appear below the Dread Pirate Robert’s picture below.  Thank you to all who helped me see this error and especially to those who cheered despite the glitches. )))))))))}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}]]]]]]]]]]]

The Princess' Ride

.

“I’ll be over in fifteen to pick up the last of my stuff. Can you do some yard work or something?”

“As you wish.”

“Piss off,” she snapped. “Just don’t be inside.”

Westley’s lines once worked magic. Now they just angered Buttercup.  Inconceivable.

She pulled up in her new Maxima and stormed into the house while I fired up the chainsaw.

Minutes later the massive oak hammered her car into the anvil of the earth. Shattered glass cascaded over crumpled metal. The ground shook.

The Princess rushed out. Looked at her car, then at me.

“To the pain,” I shouted.

Life is Pain

 

“I’ll be over in fifteen to pick up the last of my stuff. Can you do some yard work or something?”

“As you wish.”

“Piss off,” she snapped. “Just don’t be inside.”

Lines from The Princess Bride once worked magic on my Buttercup. Now they infuriated her.  Inconceivable.

She pulled up and stormed into the house. I fired up the chainsaw.

Minutes later the massive oak hammered her car into the anvil of the earth. Shattered glass cascaded over crumpled metal. The ground shook.

The Princess rushed out. Looked at her car, then at me.

“To the pain,” I shouted.

 

(((((((100 words again. More clarity. “My name is Princess Buttercup. You killed my car. Prepare to die.” Thanks for getting this far. Aloha, D.))))))))))

 

(do not click on this link.)

Allegiance

20 Jun

100 words for Friday Fictioneers, inspred by the photo prompt below, a snapshot of my heart this day.  What price duty, honor, and love?

I hold to the first, retain the second, and have lost the third. From this day forward my life will be a study of endurance in the empty space between.

Allegiance

“The old ways are dead, Annika.”

“The old guard is not.”

“No, but their time approaches. Name one thing you owe them.”

“Allegiance, Gustav. I swore an oath….”

“Keep it and you’ll be shot like a dog when the palace is taken.”

“I’ll not leave my post tomorrow.”

“Then your life will be forfeit. Is there anything you hold more dear?”

“Honor.….and you.”

“Hjärtat, the revolution cannot be stopped. Will you not reconsider?”

“Will you?”

Annika’s tears ceased with the dawn. When the mob charged, she prayed for courage, stood her ground, and put a bullet between her brother’s eyes.

Future’s So Bright…

2 Nov

Crosses to bear. Some are heavier and more visible than others. Some of the heaviest are  invisible except for the tracks they leave behind. We all carry something.

This 100 word story for Friday Fictioneers was inspired by the photo prompt below from Ted Strutz. It was written from the edge and is a plea for you to shade your eyes and peer into the darkness beyond the circle of light in which you stand. The people out there that need a hand don’t always know how to ask for help. You may even find yourself out there sometime. Do what you can. It matters and it helps. Aloha, D.

Carnival in town.

Ruth stood in impenetrable shadows watching happy people silhouetted against the glare of tent lights. She used to be happy there, too.

Darkness embraced her as she washed down a handful of pills with warm beer.

Take these, the doctors said. Better? Try this instead.

Haphazard prescriptions held no keys for the locked doorway to her troubled mind.

Let them hone their skills on someone else. Tonight she was going to show them what dosage the cure required.

A song from a brighter past wafted across the midway. She smiled ruefully. Downed a few more pills….

(the song she heard)

 

 

 

Post Script: I want to share something that Valerie Davies shared with me in the comments section. I’d never heard of Don Ritchie before I wrote my story but I can’t thank Valerie enough for telling me of him and the way he helped those in need. (Valerie’s story is pretty amazing, too. Check out her ‘about’ page to read about a life well lived.)