Register a SA Forums Account here!

You can: log in, read the tech support FAQ, or request your lost password. This dumb message (and those ads) will appear on every screen until you register! Get rid of this crap by registering your own SA Forums Account and joining roughly 150,000 Goons, for the one-time price of $9.95! We charge money because it costs us money per month for bills, and since we don't believe in showing ads to our users, we try to make the money back through forum registrations.
  • Locked thread
Apr 1, 2010



Apr 1, 2010

Joufyl Sypheus. 1239 words.
Jerimiah was glad to be alone on his Island. The little drones following him around always kept a respectful distance, about 30 yards or so. Why he was so interesting to watch he could not fathom. Each to their own he told himself long ago. He hardly noticed them anymore. Supposedly, the Island`s name was Corsica; at least he seemed to recall that name being used when he first arrived. Now his art covered almost every part of the Island. He-Jerimiah made free use of every part of it.

Why the locals had left and if they had done so voluntarily or not he had no idea. Certainly, he had not asked them to leave. However, he was grateful to them for letting him cover this little rock with his buildings. His copy of Krak des Chevaliers was almost complete; it had only taken him a thousand years to get it done. As he stood on the tallest spire in the castle, he looked down on some of the things that he had made. The beach he had bedecked in the eroded leftovers from his Sphinx-period. He must have built like a 100 of those things. Higher up in the hillside the few tourist allowed to visit could enjoy his 1:1 replica of the Hagia Sophia. Probably his most complex work so far. Just preparing the ground had taken him 500 years of digging. Getting the dome right had been even harder. However, he knew that he would never run out of time, so he did not mind having to redo things. That`s why he never bothered about the mathematics behind what he built. Trial and error was how he had learned everything. He knew how to make a gothic arch, and where to put the load bearing columns and roughly how much they could carry. However, he could not explain the principles behind it. He had just done it. Besides, if things fell apart it he did not mind. Rebuilding it would kill time, and as he well knew the heat death of the universe was still a long way off.

Jerimiah rarely reflected upon the past. For all he cared people could do what they wanted with his works. Just as long as he was left alone whilst building them. He opened at can for beans and poured the contents into his mouth. It was nice to have a little meal every century or so, even if he did not need it. Thinking about this Jeremiah felt a great deal of gratitude for his benefactors. It was nice to receive so many gifts of food, equipment and materials throughout the eons. Since it was summertime, he was sure his benefactors had made their androids provide him with a new delivery. Building the summer palace of the Qing-emperors would require enormous quantities of everything from timber, rock, specialized tools to the right clay from which to make Tiles. He feared they might have given him finished Tiles to work with instead; he would have to throw those away. Making his own would be so much more fun, he could barely wait.

Jerimiah liked to draw up what he wanted to do next when he was a few decades shy of finishing a project. Somehow, a drone would take a picture of it, and his benefactors would take educated guesses at what he required. He refused all modern tools. Sadly, he had allowed himself to use motorized drills one time. They still had not completely grasped that he wanted to it all by hand.
He was rarely disturbed. Every millennium his brother would visit for a little chat. Jacob or “Jaycup” as his brother preferred to write it always invited him to new places. The moon, Mars, Venus, and what was the last suggestion?…Andromeda…Something. Probably far away. Jerimiah always refused, he preferred working. In addition “Jaycup” freaked him out with his constantly changing avatars. Always appearing as a floating squid, a raven or some other bizarre creature. Jerimiah felt sad for his brother, “Jaycup” seemed incapable of being content with what he had. Jerimiah on the other hand preferred his Adam’s suit. Winter, spring or summer, he never covered himself.

Whilst resting after his meal Jeremiah started thinking about his past. Countless eons ago, he remembered being bored all the time. He had been very sick and his hair had fallen off because of the awful medicine they had given him. Mother and Father was so sad all the time. Probably because they stayed with him all the time in that strange white room. All the time men and women in white coats would give him new pills to swallow and inject ever-more poison into him. He had dreamt of being big and strong, of being left alone to build something just for himself. Then one day he was healed, no one knew why. In fact, everyone in that strange place suddenly looked a lot healthier. He had gone home to his family. Thankfully, he never saw those white coated people again. Granddad was soon after sent back from a “home”, and everyone was happy. Suddenly Grandad looked like a young man again. He said he was tired of being inside all day and that he did not want to be a professor anymore. Jeremiah often wondered if Grandad`s ”home” had been a bad place to live.

Lost in his thoughts ten winters had passed by the time he got up again. It was probably for the best that no one visited. He was lousy company. One time a man had come to him babbling all the time and following him around. He babbled constantly and would often get down on his knees to babble some more in a pleading voice. What that was about he could not tell. It sounded vaguely like English, but the language had changed a lot over the years .The man`s speech was just meaningless gibberish to him. The only words he thought he recognized was something about «Buddha” and something about «Wisdom” and constant referrals to some kind of “Master”. Jeremiah eventually brained him with a stone pickaxe to shut him up. When the strange man recovered from his wound, he quietly went away. Jerimiah had not been disturbed since then.

Jeremiah walked down the stairs of his castle to look upon it from the outside. When he got down, he quickly realized that something was very wrong. The whole building swayed far too much to the left. It would collapse by its own in a few hundred years. It was not that he cared what happened to it. However, he hated doing things half-ways. He could not tolerate the castle in its present state. He had a limitless supply of time, so why not redo the whole thing he thought to himself. As he had no need for efficiency, he chose his smallest pickaxe and walked over the nearest piece of the wall. He brought with him a basket to carry the broken stones down to the beach. Each trip would probably take two days.

Chip, chip ,chip . Jerimiah was soon lost in his labors once again. As he fell into a good rhythm, a song appeared on his lips. His Grandpa had taught it to him long ago, when he was still an old man.

«Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along»

Apr 1, 2010

Epic Promt. 100 words including title.


The thundering sound of axes battering shields deafens all. They face a forest of armored men, barely visible through the smoke of burning fields. On the fifth day of battle the smell of death and poo poo is overwhelming, nauseating. Blood covers every man, his own or the enemy’s. Five times he-Gondar has thrown himself towards his foes, five times he has broken their banners, and five times the enemy has driven them driven back. In their rear, their women prepare for defeat, knifes stand ready to cut the children`s throats.

Retreat is unthinkable.

Raising his axe he yells” ATTACK!”

Apr 1, 2010


Apr 1, 2010

How Tommie died. (993 words)

Inspector Isaac looked down the young man lying dead and stiff on the frozen parking space outside of “ Grootz`s Golfing shop”. Isaac waived the pathologist over to him” Good day Larson, give me the facts”.

” The victim`s head, neck, and forearms have been smothered with extreme force. It`s possible that he might have been dragged around post-mortem. Very little blood on the scene, so he probably did not die here. His clothes are partially covered in grey dust. We also found his keys and wallet, his driver`s license was inside.” Larson gave him the card” Tommie Mathieson” it said and included his address. Isaac bade Larson give him the keys.

Isaac walked towards the shop. The man who had found the body, Kenneth Grootz, a mountain of tense muscles, was sitting in the entrance. Going on instinct Isaac bent down to shake his hand and asked “ Good day, this is Inspector Isaac Dupont, I have a question for you. Why is there a bag of illegal steroids inside your shop?” Kenneth went pale and slowly got up” H—how did you know? “Isaac smiled. He had guessed correctly.

« Kenneth, I don’t care about the steroids. If you let me in and tell me everything you know I will forget about it, ok?” Isaac said. Kenneth opened the door and let him in.

The store looked like any normal sports store. Isaac noticed that Kenneth only carried the most expensive brands. A tiny irregular hole blemished one of the walls. Kenneth leaned heavily on the counter and asked,” What do you want to know?”
“ What do you know about the man you found? Tell me everything,” Isaac said.

“His name is Tommie Mathieson, he worked here in the summer. I fired him for stealing. All of this stuff is highly expensive, so he cost me more than a thousand bucks. I …given my habits didn`t want to involve the police”. Isaac scratched his beard and continued, “Tell me what happened when you came to open up? Did you see him snooping around? Did you think he was coming back to steal more? Did the steroids make you act impulsively? “

“No, I swear! When I get angry, I punch the walls. Look, you need to talk his friend Daniel Whitrope . He used to work here too, but he never managed to show up on time. He lives just a block down the street; I`ll write down his address. Those two are always driving around on Daniel`s ATV. You can`t walk peacefully in the woods here anymore because of those two”.

Isaac had heard enough. He bade Kenneth remain in town for the next few days. He left the store and got in his car. He felt he should take a look inside Tommie’s apartment before he did anything else.

The apartment was a mess, filled old beer cans. A thick layer of grey dust covered all the furniture expect for a beer-stained leaning chair. In the seat of the chair laid a diary. Isaac leafed trough it and took special notice of something Tommie had written last week,» Went out in the woods with D, had fun, stopped to play` carousel`». Odd, very odd he tougth. As he left, he received a text message from Larson” “The grey dust is probably concrete. “ Nice to know Isaac said to himself.

Finally, the time had come to visit Daniel. He lived in a small yellow house on the outskirts of the woods. Through the bare frosty trees, Isaac could see a construction site just a hundred yards away. Just beyond that, he could make out his own house. He walked past a dirty and bulky ATV parked next to a wheelbarrow and knocked on the door. A pudgy young man opened it. “Good day this is Inspector Isaac Dupont, is this Daniel Whitrope? » Isaac said.

"That`s me, what do you want dude? » Daniel responded.
Isaac stared at him and said with intensity “We have found a dead body, we believe it is Tommie Matheson, we also have reason to suspect you were with him yesterday”.
Daniel remained calm and said” Well he wasn`t, he wanted be alone.”
“Why , weren`t you two friends?”
“Yeah…but it`s not like we were gay either. We don`t always hang out.”
“Perhaps he was tired of riding around the woods late at night?”
“I don`t have time for this, I have to get to work” Daniel responded in a brusque voice. Isaac got out of his way as Daniel drove off.

Next morning as Isaac walked over to his car he pondered what Tommie could have meant by” playing carousel”. He looked over to the right where he could see a busy construction site. Isaac saw a worker making concrete. The mixer was going around and around….AHA!
Isaac sped away as fast as he could. Daniel was just leaving the house when Isaac arrived “Listen, I know what happened. Tommie kept a diary. I know what “playing carousel” means.`s time for you to tell the truth.”

Daniel went pale and shivered, but he did not run “Ok, I will tell the truth. Tommie and I went over to the construction site behind us. Tommie got onto a cement mixer and told me to turn it on. We had done it before. But this time Tommie wanted to stand on his hands while the machine turned, he said he wanted to make a YouTube video. Tommie lost his grip and fell face first into the barrel. He was crushed to death almost instantaneously.”

“So you dragged him up here and dumped in front for Kenneth`s shop, why?” Isaac said.

“I didn`t want to go to prison, so I dumped him there to lay the blame on Kenneth. I figured the workers wouldn`t say anything 'cause they are all illegals”.

Isaac arrested him.
The rest was just paperwork.

Apr 1, 2010


Apr 1, 2010

Weird prompt. 759 word.

A face, a mask, a human.

May 1987.

“She has Moeibus syndrome? “
"Is that why Sally doesn’t smile or blink?”

July 2020.

The Bride didn`t smile but her beaming voice and her proud posture could leave no one doubt. She was happy with her match. John said she shouldn`t worry about the photos “ I will smile for both us”. At that moment, standing in front of that particular church, Sally did not think about what her face could or couldn`t do. Somehow, all of those worries had faded away.

September 1990.

Sally`s fate was sealed the minute she was introduced to the other children in the kindergarten. Anna the manager only wanted to be kind when she told everyone” "Sally is a little different than the rest of us, she can`t smile or move her face in any way. She is a very special girl, so you have take extra good care of her."
Naturally, everyone teased her relentlessly from that day onwards.

June 2017.

The speed dating had been fun, she was glad that she took the chance to participate. But she felt a little sad that she was the one that had to ask the men for their numbers. No one had dared to take the initiative.

May 2003.

Paul laughed at her "Do you think I'm interested in going to the prom with a retard ? Hello, that would probably be illegal! “
It hurts when the one you love laughs at you. Sally gave no outward sign that she understood the humiliation. Sally was used to not being understood. Other People have faces , I have just have a mask.

April 2014.

The sun was shining beautiful and dazzling when Sally and her brother Brad sat down to eat. Brad ordered first - A bloody steak with red wine. Then came the insult. "And what should she like?” the waiter asked her brother. He didn`t even look at her. Sally kept her composure and said «She should would like to have pork chops in gravy, she will also have a Heineken to drink " The waiter turned to look at her , his cheeks suddenly burning like flames. “Miss I’m sorry. I will get it sorted."

It was a good meal expect for that little insult. Sally couldn`t stay mad, it was not the first time she had been presumed to be retarded, it would probably not be the last. To think about it was just too draining. Sally and Brad laughed and laughed. They had many good memories to talk about. Sally paid this time around. It felt good to pay with money she had earned on her own. No one cared about her face in the accounting industry. A nimble brain was more than good enough there.

November 2004.

Someone else got the job, like always. They had no need of her at McDonald’s either. Her labor was not wanted. Not in any of the cafes in the city, not in the stores. Even the soup kitchen preferred to have someone else work there. More and more Sally felt like all the world could see of her was that her mask. She would have no chance to earn her own money this year either, there would be no holiday trip with her friends, there would be no updating of her wardrobe. For her there would be nothing but pity and unspoken words of worry.

Hello self-hatred my old friend, have you come to talk to me again?

May 1987.

“ She has Moeibus syndrome?”
“ Is that why Sally doesn’t smile or blink?”
“Yes, you see the nerves in her facial muscles will never work properly. It is unlikely that she will ever be able to gesticulate emotions with facial expression. She will need a lot of extra training to speak properly. On the other hand, I can tell you that this does not anyway affect her mental faculties. She can still have relatively normal life”.
“Oh my god, my little girl !”
“Mrs. Steiner, Mr Steiner. You must stay strong. Sally is going to need every bit of your strength.“
“Yes, we will be strong. We will do anything for her.”
“Good, Sally is going to need a lot of medical help in the years to come. However, you have to make sure that she is never forgets that she more than her handicap. If you do that, you will have done more for her than any doctor could ever do”.

Apr 1, 2010

In with the 1910`s ( The Tenties?)

You guys are rigth , my grammar is ungood. I will buy a grammar book and try to improve. It`s been a long time since high school and I have forgotten quite a lot.

I know my punctuation is less then stellar to say the least. I don`t even know how to do it properly in my native language. But what other issues should I be aware of?

Apr 1, 2010

(640 words. Set in the 1910`s)

The Parthian Shot

Northern France, September 1914.

Cold winds shook John`s rackety little biplane as it flew across the German lines. His thick duffel coat was barely enough to keep hypothermia away. The cold bit into his flesh, numbing his hands. Too bad the army had emptied his flask. He could bloody well need a mouthful of whisky right now. Not only for the warmth, but also for his nerves.

It was all a bit confusing figuring out what role airplanes should play. So far, the British government had decided to rely on rich volunteers who could afford to bring their own personal planes. Rope, glue and a few nails held the machine together. His only weaponry was as Smith and Wesson, fresh from the factory. This too he( or rather his father) had to pay for himself.

Beneath the thin layer of clouds the stream of German troops appeared to flow endlessly from the northeast. Already it was apparent that the defense of Mons had failed, these were all supposed to be columns of British soldiers marching towards Berlin. HQ would not be happy to hear this. In fear of their rifles he didn`t dare to go any lower.

The plane tilted one wing awkwardly towards the ground to allow John to take a snapshot. It was not easy to concentrate on both photographing and flying at the same time. John wished he had bought a double-seater back in May.

Then suddenly, in the far distance a grey cross could be seen hurling towards him. It was a german plane, approximately 1000 meters away and 100 meters above him. John pulled out his gun and yanked the stick back so as to ascend. Instinctivly he felt like the Kraut should not be allowed to get the drop on him.

The Kraut had seen him and steered his plane intently towards John. Now just 300 meters away the planes started to circle one another, no man would allow the other to get behind him. Rising in a corkscrew motion John and his prey came quickly came dangerously close to one another. Both the Kraut and John had their pistols drawn. At least they are as unprepared for aerial combat as we are John thought to himself.

Bang Bang! Two bullets pierced holes through the sailcloth on John`s left wing. His breathing quickened and John suddenly felt time move very slowly. One wrong bullet could tear apart this whole machine apart he tough. The blue sky seemed almost painfully bright, but nowhere could John see his enemy.

He tilted the plane leftward to look down; the German was going into a dive. The coward was running away! John turned the plane quickly and went into a dive as well. The Kraut was not going to get away, hell no!.
Hans Huber was pleased to see John`s shadow following his. The ground was only 500 meters down and approaching fast. With one hand ready to yank back the steering stick Hans leaned upwards and fired his revolver , he had no time to aim. The bullet grazed Hans`s tailfin and tore through a wooden propeller blade before planting itself firmly inside John`s skull.

Hans had no time to notice this as he leaned back to level his plane at the last minute. The mournful thud hammering vibrating from behind felt satisfying. Hans came back around to check the results. The foolish English plane had crashed into a meadow. Black smoke rose from the smashed wreck. It had worked. Hans had finally made his first kill.

Hans was pleased. He felt powerful knowing he was the first man in his squadron to kill an enemy air scout.
If this doesn’t earn me a medal, then nothing will!

Hans almost feared the war would be over just as it was getting interesting.

Apr 1, 2010


ReptileChillock posted:

Kind of Honorable Runner up mention goes to:



In the sense that I comically hosed up or in the sense of " Not too bad"?

Apr 1, 2010

In with Polonium.

Apr 1, 2010

Boy is this rushed work.

Element: Polonium. 767 words.

Clouds of poison.

Chicago 1969. Franklin`s Jazz Bars.

The tiny table in the corner was set for two. Only one man sat there. Jack emptied his third scotch for the day and looked out across the smoke filled room; it was like sitting in a stinking cloud. The bad lightning gave the place an almost cavernous feel. Guests were starting to fill up the place. Their black skin made Jack uncomfortable –-- -Why had Alan chosen a Negro Club to meet? Not that he minded them or anything, but you know. Certain things you just shouldn`t mix, that had always been Jack`s opinion. Besides two pasty white guys meeting in a place like this was hardly stealthy.

A man in a shiny white suit suddenly appeared from out of the noxious haze. “Hello Jack, what do think of this club, it`s groovy right?”

“Alan, you know this is not my kind of place. I prefer more…civilized surroundings.”
Alan sat down and unbuttoned his suit.

“ I figured you`d say that. Now what was it you wanted to tell me?”
Jack smiled and picked from his front pocket a small metal cylinder shaped like a fat bullet. He put it down on to the table “Inside this cylinder there is a gram of Polonium”.

Alan took out a cigarette, lit it and started puffing “Sounds radioactive”

“That`s because it is. Polonium is highly radioactive with a half-life of 6 months. Discovered by Marie Curie and named after her homeland Poland. It is likely that this stuff killed her “. Jack pointed to the cylinder” Today we use this stuff to start nuclear reactors. That is how potent it is. It is known that radiation from Polonium can cause cancer ”.

Alan inhaled deeply and leaned back into his seat” So? That`s not a story. Also, why did you bring that thing here?”
Jack leaned forward and picked up the cylinder again” This useful visual aid, that is all. Don`t worry the lead casing should keep us safe. However, here is the scandal: There are trace amounts of Polonium in all American grown Tobacco. The plants absorb it from the soil. You are inhaling it right now."

Alan opened his mouth but said nothing. He squashed his cigarette into the ashtray.
Jack put the cylinder back into his pocket and licked up the last remaining droplets in his glass.
“ It`s pretty shocking right? We are sitting right now in a cloud of waste products containing infinitesimally tiny amounts of Polonium. Everyone here are poisoning themselves and their surroundings with radioactivity. That`s why Marlboro hired me last year, to help them find a way to filter this stuff out. But trust me there isn’t. We tried ever loving thing there was to try. When I told them that it was a unfixable problem they made me sign a confidentiality agreement. They really wanted me keep quiet about this.”
Alan seemed to recover for his shock. Suddenly his eyes glistened. ”How long have Marlboro known about this?”
“ I have dug up reports in their archives about this problem going back to 1959.”

Alan smiled “This is Pulitzer grade material man. I have to get an exclusive. The Chicago Mail won`t turn this story down!”
Jack slid a small paper note over to Alan “This is my motel room. Come there tomorrow 20 pm. I can give you everything you need to make this story stick. All the reports, all the data, absolutely everything”
Alan shook his hand” Wonderful, let`s nail those assholes!”. Jack got up to leave “Wait 15 minutes before you all right?”
The light was off inside the motel room. Two men dressed in black rolled Jack`s corpse into a body bag . Alan stood before them, holding a brown suitcase. 100.000 dollars is a lot of money Alan thought. The suitcase certainly felt like it. But looking down on Jack`s crushed face he wondered if it was really worth it.

One of the men spoke to him ” We can take it from here. You have your money and we have what we came here for “. Alan did not move
The two men turned to face him” Look, Alan if we want anything else from you we will call. However, right now the company needs you to leave quietly. Trust me you don`t want to see how we…recycle waste products.” The two men laughed heartily.
Alan walked out. He slipped unnoticed down to the lobby, walked out the door and into his car. -gently caress, I need a cigarette. He lit one and drove off.

Apr 1, 2010


Apr 1, 2010

1299 words.
The Dildo.
It was a boring Wednesday afternoon. School was out and the bus home was still an hour away. Baudolino wished he had something to read so he went into the little book store across the road. What was he in a mood for today? Not crime fiction, he loathed that genre. Not fantasy, he had just finished reading the Silmarillon. Perhaps a story about “Hitler`s willing executioners”? The Holocaust had always made him morbidly curious. Nah, too serious.

He went to the upper floor to check if he could find something there. Let`s see. More fantasy, a Sci-Fi novel featuring a nude purple woman on the front. No thank you. Then he noticed something that was very out of place. A Quran had been left in the self-help section. Baudolino picked it up. Beneath it, he saw a book he had heard much about. It had a black cover with golden writing. The golden silhouettes of a short man dancing with two bikini-clad women. It was simply called “ the Game”. Baudolino put down the Quran and picked The Game. He skimmed through the blurb on the back. It promised him a way to get successful with women, how to be a player so to speak. What horny 16teen year old could possibly say not to that?
Naturally, Baudolino had to buy it.

He spent the rest of the evening reading through it. At every free minute he had, he read a little bit more. Man, this seems almost too good to be true? Suddenly he was aware that it was necessary to give the appearance of confidence. I guess women like that too, poo poo what a fool he had been.

Baudolino devoted himself to the understanding for The Game. He read all the forums, checked out the Author`s Wikipedia page. Somehow, everything it espoused made sense. The hypnosis, Kino, the loving magic tricks, negging, the whole lot of it. Baudolino greedily swallowed it down.

Secretly he concocted a plan. He had to find a way to implicitly communicate that he was both a daredevil and that women had desired him the past. I need a conversation piece. But what could it be? It had to something that would be both unusual, sexy and daring. He had just the right idea. He would buy a sex toy and somehow work that into a conversation with random women he met on the street. He would say that it was joke present to his ex-girlfriend (she did not exist). At that time it seemed to Baudolino that this would make him appear sexually liberated, a joker and someone women had desired in the past. Heck it was better than doing nothing. People like confidence right?

Two weeks later, it was time to put theory into practice. An October Saturday afternoon, Baudolino took the bus into town. He was finally going to play the game himself. Would his plan work? Badolino could only hope. Some 45 minutes later he found what he had been looking for; a sex toy shop.

Should he buy a vibrator? Nah too expensive. The same went for vibrating eggs. But the dildos were reasonably well priced. Baudolino picked a sleek black one. This would do perfectly as a conversation piece. The clerk looked at him funnily when he bought it. Thankfully, she said nothing. Instinct told him that this was not the kind of place where you should flirt with the staff so Baudolino did not say anything either.

He had his conversation piece in a discreet little handbag. Now he had just to find a single young woman. However, on the streets of XXXXX it was a cold and windy day. Few people were out. Suddenly the whole place looked half-deserted. Baudolino walked and walked and walked. He walked to the cinema. He walked through the park, past junkies peddling their wares. Past the Romanian beggars enduring the rain and the wind in silence. Up and down the docks he walked. Past the supply ships, past statutes of Great Men covered in bird poo poo. Yet he could not find a single young woman. He could see a few single men, a few old women and a few couple. However, he could not find what he was looking for. Perhaps he should try a café`? Baudolino tried doing that but somehow he would feel like was going to faint just as he was opening the door. He never entered any café`s that day.

He continued his lonesome patrol but still he could not find the right kind of person. After a while, Baudolino noticed it was getting dark and checked his watch. Four and a half hours had gone past. poo poo. It was time to go home. Baudolino walked for a few minutes and found his bus stop. A woman was standing there, she was alone. She was not looking down into a mobile phone; there were no plugs in her ears. She was perfect. Come on Baudolino, talk to her! He waived at her and said weakly “ Terrible weather…don`t you think?”. She was standing with her back turned and could not see him. Badolino would never know if she had heard him or not.

Before he could speak, again the bus arrived. It was completely empty. Baudolino found a seat two rows behind the mysterious woman. In Baudolino`s country sitting down next to a stranger unless you absolutely have to means breaching a grave taboo. Therefore he needed an excuse to get any closer without appearing like a dangerous lunatic. He was pushing it by sitting this close.

Perhaps he could pretend like he recognized her “ You look so much like my friend Jelena!”. Perhaps he could pretend as if he did not know where to go off and kick start a conversation that way. The bus was just 2 minutes away from Baudolino`s stop when he finally made his move. No more passengers had entered in that time. It was just the two of them. “So do live around here?” he said as he walked up to her row and sat down next to her.

The woman opened her mouth but did not speak; her eyes were suddenly wide open. He repeated his question. “ Ehm, what`s it to you? ” she replied sharply. Baudolino started sweating, his hands shook” I am just you know…curious”. The woman leaned back from him and pushed the stop button. Suddenly she was staring intently at him” Could you move away please, I have to get off here”. Baudolino complied, the woman got off and the bus continued to the last stop on the route.

It was short walk from the bus stop to where he lived. Baudolino felt a bit despondent with the results from his wanderings. However, most of all he was angry with himself for cooking up such a harebrained scheme. Had he really wasted his money and time for no gain?

Baudolino took out the dildo from his handbag and unpacked it. Baudolino had read about anal stimulation; why not try it on himself?

Quickly he found some porn on his computer. Nothing too gross, just standard lesbian stuff. Then he went to work on himself. It took a few tries but Baudolino eventually managed to find his prostate. Jerking off whilst loving himself with a dildo at the same time was not an easy task for a newbie like him, but he managed somehow. When Baudolino had wiped his laptop and t-shirt clean, he felt very satisfied. The dildo had been well worth the money. In the years to come it would serve him well. Just too bad it would stink like Satan’s taint when he forgot to clean it.

Baudolino never read The game again.

Apr 1, 2010


Apr 1, 2010

Lego set: ( The Empire State Building)
745 words.

Leaving New York.

They called him the Empire State Building, but he preferred to call himself Em.

It was a nice sunny day in June and his insides was filled busy people. The lights and noises of the big apple still appealed to him. But Em had begun to dream of other places. Em decided to try something new. He concentrated on the electric wiring inside and.. yes the fire alarm went off. He could hear the people inside him talking and walking very fast. Em concentrated on the tubes and wired inside him and with a tsiss the sprinklers went off. Suddenly people were practically sprinting down the stairs. Others slid and fell. Em sensed that his elevators had stopped. Some kind of signal was blocking it. Em quickly forced them back into action.

Beneath him a crowd of escpaing workers and onlookers was forming. Em noticed that a shiny red car with blaring sirens had pulled up. Soon he was completely empty . There was no point in wasting water; so Em turned off his sprinklers. From all over the adjacent buildings people were pointing towards him. But Em was not done playing just yet. He was tired of always being stuck on the intersection between 34th street and Fifth Avenue. It was great place to be, but the world was bigger than New York. That`s what the people inside always said to each other. Then they would laugh and say” Yeah right!”. What was that all about? Em looked up towards the sky. A flock of doves coming from Broadway flew over his spire. Em could not help but wonder. Can I do that too?

He locked all his doors and windows. The clattering noise reverberated in the streets below. The crowd tensed, a man panicked and fell on to the ground. Em focused on his fundament and all the wired and tubes that connected him to the ground. Up, up up he thought and with a roaring screeching sound he broke off from the ground. The electricity went off at once and all his windows darkened. Slowly his massive 455-meter high body floated upwards.

The whole city panicked, from Manhattan to the Bronx and all the way out to Ellis Island alarms blared. Sky was filled with all kinds of strange creatures, but most of them had blue lights on. But no one dared to go any closer. Should I stay here or should I travel even further? Em decided that it might be fun to see outer space.

Em willed himself upwards against, faster and faster he went until he shook from the sonic boom of breaking the sound barrier. The air grew thin and cold, soon he could not see the ground. Then he saw the stars. Em breached the atmosphere and entered the black void. At once he was rustled by an incoming solar storm, it made him dizzy. He turned his body around and dove back into the atmosphere. The re-entry made Em feel very hot so he slowed down. He decided to head northwards during his descent.

One hour later, he dipped into the troposphere, Em could suddenly see the ground again. In all four directions a landscape of lakes and pine needle forest stretched out. A rolling sea of dark green. Many large huge patches of land that had been clear-cut. He felt curious and descended towards one of the open spaces. Abandoned machines and heaps of equipment laid everywhere. This must be a logging camp Em thought. I wonder if I should help them out? It was only fair that he should give something back to the species that had created him.

Em allowed himself to hover horizontally a meter above the ground. Em floated in such a way that his spire pointed forwards in a 90 degree angle. Slowly Em hovered from the cleared area into the forest, flattening hundreds of trees for every meter. Em stopped after a hundred meters or so. This was fun Em tought. He could see himself trying to build a life up here as a kind of untraditional lumberjack.

New York could wait for now. The Empire State righted himself and touched down on Canadian soil . The ground gave way to his enormous weigth and Em sank into the wet earth up to his 5th floor.

Life was good Em tougth, sometimes dreams come true.

Apr 1, 2010

Unforgiven. 21 words.
It wasn`t worth it baby. Can you forgive your sister and me?

Apr 1, 2010


Baudolino fucked around with this message at 19:36 on Feb 25, 2014

Apr 1, 2010

"In" Baduolino said to himself mentally.

Apr 1, 2010

Could I get a flash rule?

Apr 1, 2010

Counseling. 945 words.
January 4th.

Behold the doctor. He sits in his luxurious leather chair. Outside shiny towers of glass and steel glint in the bleak January sun. The window behind the doctor`s back offers a fantastic visage for his visitors.

In front of him a man and a woman sits. Bot wear grey formal clothing. Their faces are turned away from each other.
“ Why don`t you start Clarissa? Why are you here?” Said the doctor.

Clarissa cleared her throat before answering “ We both want a divorce but we have a son, so we want to make one last try. We want to work it out, don`t we John?”

The man smirked as he heard Clarissa`s response” I am here because I need your signature Clarissa. Just sign the drat papers and stop this expensive Charade. You are not going to change my mind anyways. There is no We left to protect”.

The doctor turned towards John before asking “ Are you uncomfortable with being here John? Trust me you are not the first. Perhaps you are right and this is just a charade…but why not give it try. There is no harm to you here. I believe Clarissa will pay all my fees by herself”.

“ That`s right John. This won`t cost you a dime. Can`t you just give a try, for James`s sake? Clarissa said.
“ Why the gently caress couldn’t you think of James when you decided be a loving slut! loving the loving pool boy Clarissa, arrgh! Just what the gently caress were you thinking?” John roared in response. His face suddenly red hot.
“ He was always there, and you were always away. Even when you were home you kept away. Wanking away In front of your computer. Do you understand how much that hurt?”

“ John, Clarissa, I understand that you are both very upset right now. But shouting at each other is not the way forward. Please refrain from swearing our foul language whilst in this room. This is supposed to be a gentle and healing space” The doctor said and stretched out his arms.

“ Clarissa, is it true that you were unfaithful? “ The doctor said.
“ Yes, but there is a reason for that” She said.
“ Slut!” John muttered to himself.
February 6th

John and Clarissa entered the doctor’s office once again. They quickly sat down.

“ Welcome back, did you manage to do the exercises I told you?” The doctor said, the shadow of smiled barely visible upon his lips.
“ Yes!” John and Clarissa said. “ It really made a difference to take time to argue thrice a week” Clarissa continued.
“ Well I’m glad to hear that And the other exercises?” The doctor said.

“ Aha, yes it was actually quite nice to be…intimate once again” John said and gently stroked his tar-black tie.
The doctor turned his gaze towards Clarissa and asked” Do you agree with what John said?”

“ Well, I guess it was nice. But..there has been little improvement from John I think” Clarissa said.
“ You mean, lack of tenderness whilst in the act?”“Yes, precisely” Clarissa said.

“ No wait just a minute, I did the whole foreplay thing, just like in that pamphlet you showed me Aaand, I bougth that fancy lube you told me about. That stuff if expensive. What more do you want from me?”
“I don`want to talk but this, not here” Clarissa responded”
“All right” John said and raised up his arms and as if in surrender.

“ Ofcourse, let`s move on. But let me just say John that…the bedroom is not the place to be selfish, it`s the place for each spouse to give worship the other. I want to you reflect upon that going forwards. But don`t stress it. The important thing is that you are both trying. That`s great. 80% of success is just showing up !.“ The doctor said.

Now…John what are your thought`s going forwards. Do you feel like there has been an improvement since last month?” The doctor said.
“ Well I`ve decided to move back to the apartment for now. That`s got to count for something” John said and clasped Clarissa`s hand.
“ Indeed, this a substantial development. The doctor said.
"And how do you feel about this Clarissa, is it strange to have him back? Some women might have grown accustomed to the single life by this point.

March 10th.
The tan young couple smiled as they entered the doctor’s office and seated themselves.
“ We have some bad news for you doc” John said, his hands resting upon a fresh pair of yellow pants.
“ How so? “ The doctor said.
“ Well, we have decided to not get a divorce” John said.
“ In many ways I think we are closer than ever” Clarissa said and smoothed out a crease on her brigth red blouse.

“ And now you both feel ready to move on? Have you forgiven her betrayal John?”
“Indeed I have. During our trip to Thailand all resentment just..evaporated” John responded.
“ And do you Clarissa feel like John is paying more attention to you, outside as well as inside the bedroom? ” Said the Doctor.
“ Yeah, he is much better about these things now" Clarissa said.

“ Good, my job here is done. “ The doctor said and smiled broadly. It`s far from usual to see such a quick improvement. It`s always delightful when it does happen. So , why don`t we just stop here, and I won`t bill you for this hour” The doctor continued.
“Sounds good” The young couple exclaimed. They shook hands with the doctor and left.


Apr 1, 2010

Interpromt.147 words.

When I close my eyes I no longer see the stranger lying drunk outside my mother`s house.

Inside the wake is still ongoing and outside my dad still lies drunk in the snow. The smell of his vodka-stained shirt continue to sting my nostrils, but at least I do not have to see it. The neighbours are probably peeping out from behind their curtains choosing to only see the ungrateful son leaving his father in the snow as he calls the cops. I no longer care what they think. Father only had eyes for the bottle when I was young, he must love it more than he ever did love my mother. I guess now it is my turn to be the one who closes his eyes?

When I close my eyes I longer see the stranger lying drunk outside my mother`s house

  • Locked thread