Monday, May 19, 2014


WooHoo! Welcome back, friends! I hope you all brought your thinking caps because I am prepared to be wow'ed by your awesome stories. :) No beating around the bush today (I'm reading a book...I need to get back to it...carry on!). Go check out the prompts and get those wheels turning!

If you need to read the full version of the rules, go here. Otherwise, here's the short version:

1. Up to 500 words
2. Keep it clean (nothing rated R or above)
3. Start with the given first sentence.
4. Optional Special Challenge
5. Include: Twitter/email, word count, Special Challenge accepted
6. The challenge is open for 24 hours on Tuesday EST

Oh, and feel free to change pronouns, punctuation, tense, and anything in brackets to fit the story/pov/tone. I'm not going to be TOO picky... Our judge however...

Our Judge today is CeeCee 
also known as @chinchinunicorn. Go check out her facebook page here. Read her winning tale from last week here!

 Your first sentence for FINISH THAT THOUGHT #46 is:

If my dad was willing to forget the last few seconds of his life, well then, so was I.

 Your SPECIAL CHALLENGE from the judge is:

Include the words: fate, top, trace.



  1. @Ali_OMalley
    390 words
    Special challenge accepted

    If my dad was willing to forget the last few seconds of his life, well then, so was I. I’d ignore the way his breathe rattled inside his chest as machine’s beeped and buzzed in the background. I’d ignore the wet gurgling sound bubbling in his throat as the blood filling his lungs flooded the organ.

    I won’t think about the sickly yellow colour tinting his skin. Or the way his sweat gave his flesh a waxy complexion. I won’t picture the way his eyes, filled with fear and so much pain, rolled into his head. The image of his mouth gaping, jaw tense in a scream that couldn’t force its way passed the metal pole lodged in his ribs, won’t flash into my mind.

    I do think of sunny days spent at the park where he would let me fill his beard with daisies. Birthday parties in the back yard, surrounded by family and love, crowd my mind. I think about all of the good night kisses, his ridiculous moustache tickling my delicate skin and the scent of his cologne mixed with outside filling my noise with familiarity. I remember movie nights with overly sweet popcorn, scrabble games full of made up words and fits of laughter.

    Memory after bitter sweet memory floods my brain and spills out of eyes that look just like his. They tear at my heart, the tatters falling all around me just like my life now that he’s gone. My soul feels heavier in his absence.

    A memory of us sitting on a woollen tartan blanket, surrounded by sandwich crusts and empty juice boxes, jumps into my thoughts so suddenly it takes my breath away. I remember laughing at his daisy beard and how the bees would gather around his jaw looking for pollen to spread over fields. It’s so vivid I can almost feel the heat of the sun beating down on top of me, hear the slight panic in his laughter as he swats at the buzzing pests and the smell of grass has my nostrils flaring.

    And now he’s gone, ripped from my life so cruelly only fate could be responsible for my loss. I glance around the once happy home of a girl and her father, but now all I see is bare walls. Our life, gone without a trace.

  2. Closure

    If my dad was willing to forget the last few seconds of his life, well then, so was I. A medium, I helped restless souls trapped on this plane cross over to the next. I wondered what twist of fate had given me the ability to perceive spirits and then made my father one of them. I sighed focusing my power, examining the glowing form that hung in his office. I sat on top of his desk, legs crossed, casually swinging my free foot. I wore a white tee-shirt and blue jeans. My father wore his favorite black suit and tie. An alcoholic bully, he'd been an s.o.b. in life and in my experience death didn't improve personalities. "What are you doing here dad, I thought you said that all this supernatural stuff was malarkey?"

    "Things changed when I died kid, I became a believer." He rumbled in his gravely voice."I need you to trace my footsteps for last week."


    "To discover why I was murdered."

    "Dad, a hit and run driver struck you."

    "It wasn't an accident, it was murder."

    "Well who would want to kill you?"

    "That's the thing kid, I don't know. If your mom were still around I'd blamed her, but she's been out of the picture for over twenty years."

    "Yeah well, she's got a good life now." I announced with some satisfaction. "What about your expartner?"

    "Barry's a wimp, he ain't got the stones for killing." He said in disgust.

    "Uh huh. Anyone else you hurt or cheated?"

    "Nobody I can think of kid."

    "I do have a name you know, you could do me the courtesy of using it." I was exasperated with him. He still couldn't see what he'd done wrong.

    "Sorry Cybele. Can you help me?"

    "Sure dad, it's obvious who killed you."

    "It is?"

    "I don't even need to leave this office. The person who killed you is close, real close."

    "Well who is it? I'll rip them apart!" He swelled with rage.

    "Not going to happen Dad, as a ghost you can't effect the material world any more." I said calmly.

    "Tell me!" He demanded.

    "You made it easy dad. You followed a very predictable routine. All the killer had to do was buy a cheap used car for cash and "forget" to register the title. A few minutes work with a screwdriver to remove the license plates then they waited for the right moment. You stepped out into the road, the killer stomped on the gas, released the brake and "BAM!" you were dead."

    "But why?" He whispered.

    "The killer hated you with every breath they took. You made their life a misery. I did it dad." I smiled coldly remembering the way his body had flown through the air to smash onto the ground, broken and bleeding. I stood and walked from his office.

    "I can't believe it, my own kid!" He muttered.

    "Enjoy your death dad." I shut the door behind me. Finally I had closure.

    500 Words
    Special Challenge Accpted


    If my dad was willing to forget the last few seconds of his life, well then, so was I.

    I pushed the knob.

    I blinked at Dad. “Why are we in the basement?” I asked. “Didn’t Mom ask us to fix the top step Bobby broke?”

    Dad frowned and looked around. “We were… looking through Grandpa’s trunk,” he said. That’s when I noticed the old brass-bound chest standing open. “For a hammer?” he guessed.

    The brass pocketwatch in my hand gave off a trace of smoke. I stared down. “Where’d this come from?” It was bigger than a normal watch, with two faces, seven hands, and three knobs on the side. I turned it over. Engraved on the back were the words “See Eternity in an Hour”.

    “What the heck?” I fiddled with one of the knobs. The hands on the larger face spun backward. The bigger face kept ticking.

    “Grandpa’s time machine,” Dad said. He stared at the watch. “But I looked in the trunk after he died, it wasn’t there.”

    “This is a time machine?” I asked, not believing my ears.

    “Nobody ever believed his stories. That he was born in the 25th century, went adventuring in time, met Grandma and decided to stay in 1940 even knowing what was coming.”

    “You’re kidding.” I shook my head. “Grandpa? A time traveler?”

    “You’re the one holding the time machine,” Dad said. “Let’s test it out.”

    I put my hand to my head. “Even if I believed you, this seems like a bad idea…”

    “We’ll just set it for a few minutes back,” Dad said.

    “Won’t that cause a temporal paradox or something?” I asked.

    “Grandpa always said those were impossible, if you ended up in the same place you’d already been you just… merged with your own consciousness or something. Come on. What’s to lose?”

    I looked down at the watch in my hand. The power to travel through time… to change fate… no. It was a joke.

    “All right,” I sighed. I wound the watch back, just a short way.

    If my dad was willing to forget the last few seconds of his life, well then, so was I.

    I pushed the knob.

    365 Words
    Special Challenge accepted

  4. Driving Skills

    If my dad was willing to forget the last few seconds of his life, well then, so was I. He’d always dictated what I did, the opinions I should hold and worse still the friends I made. He hated Jamie, said he was brash, a trouble maker, that’s why I loved him so much. Okay he wasn’t really my cup of tea but I enjoyed the way my dad bristled when they came into contact with each other.

    Can’t say it was fate when I lay in Jamie’s arms in my parents’ bed. I knew he’d be home from golf and the first thing he always did was bound up the stairs two at a time singing “Give me Sunshine” at the top of his voice. Jamie was horrified. I was surprised, thought he’d stand up to my dad but no he grabbed his clothes and fled leaving me to face the rest of the music.

    For the next few years I was truly grounded. I became a perfect student, loving daughter and a plotter. I spent many a happy hour planning my escape. It was a wet squally day; I was driving dad into town. I told the coroner my foot slipped off the brake and I hit the accelerator. The newspapers reported it as a freak accident they didn’t know I’d been practising in scrap yards to get the angle just right. Maximum damage to the passenger seat leaving the driver practically injury free, well apart from a few nasty bruises across my chest.

    I left the country soon after, my inheritance supporting my new life, I even changed my name I’d didn’t want any trace of my father. Its bad enough his blood courses through my body.

    292 words
    special challenged accepted

  5. Family Ties

    If my dad was willing to forget the last few seconds of his life, well then, so was I. Then again, it would be unethical to. I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back in the guest chair of my dad’s office, staring hard at the man whom I resembled in so many ways except for the essentials.

    “You’ll have to pay me if you want that to stay forgotten,” I threatened. “I’m thinking nothing substantial, just enough so I can actually go to college.”

    “Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is,” Dad sighed as he rubbed his temples.

    “More difficult?” I scoffed. “You started the whole thing!”


    “It’s Jamison,” I interrupted.


    “Yeah. Jamison. I can’t help being related to you, but after what you pulled, I’m dumping any other ties.”

    He sighed again, suddenly appearing like an old, withered man rather than the strapping middle-aged man of 50 he was.

    “I don’t blame you.” His defeated tone with a trace of regret unnerved me. “Just…please… forget it happened. For your sake. For your brothers’ sakes. For your mother’s sake.”

    “Will she forget it happened?” I asked pointedly.

    “Most likely not.”

    “Will you act like it didn’t happen?”

    “It wouldn’t be natural to,” he admitted.

    “Then why should I?”

    We had arrived at an impasse--- the first of many I was about to find out. It was the fate of every Jamison male to be stubborn, demanding, and poor at communicating. After a few silent moments of hard staring, Dad finally looked down at his hands in his lap and broke the tension.

    “What are you going to do?”

    I continued glaring at him while I mulled it over. Honestly, I hadn’t a clue what I should do. Dad and I had never been best friends. Granny used to tease I was his enemy from the womb. It wasn’t my fault really. He was the one who had named me after the family dog “on accident.” With five brothers to take advantage of that, well, it makes it hard to forgive a person and Dad was especially good at making himself unforgivable.

    I never understood how an angel like my mother could have been persuaded to marry a scoundrel like my father. While she was blissfully ignorant of a lot of things he had gotten into, this big secret she deserved to know. She deserved the truth. My mind made up, I braced my hands against his desk and loomed over him.

    “I’m going to my editor.”

    Dad blanched. “You wouldn’t!”

    “I’m a journalist. Reporting scandals is what we do.”

    “Can’t you just forget-”

    “You were locking lips with your secretary!” I bellowed, slamming the desk with my fist. “How can you ask me to forget that?”

    Not bothering to wait for an answer, I whirled on my heel and marched out that door. I didn’t stop until I reached my own office.

    “Hey boss, we finally have a top story for tomorrow.”

    Word Count: 500
    Special Challenge included. :)