Monday, February 9, 2015


Before we move on to the contest, here is your gentle reminder: Valentine's Day is on Saturday; plan accordingly. Now that my PSA is out of the way, we can move our focus to today's prompt. Have at it! (And have fun!)

If you haven't read the full version of the rules, go here. Otherwise, here's the short version:

1. Start with the given first sentence.
2. Up to 500 words
3. Keep it clean (nothing rated R or above)
4. Optional Special Challenge
5. Stories submitted must be your own work, using characters and worlds that you have created. Sorry, no fanfiction.
6. Include: Twitter/email, word count, Special Challenge accepted
7. The challenge is open for 24 hours on Tuesday EST

Oh, and feel free to change pronounspunctuationtense, 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 Holly Geely also known as @hollygeely. Read her winning tale from last week here!  Check out her website here. Holly has been under the influence of fantasy and science fiction since she was young. She is a fan of bad puns and bright colours. If she's not cackling her way through a ridiculous story, she might be found playing video games or saving the world from evil (probably the first one).

 Your first sentence for FINISH THAT THOUGHT #2-32 is:

[He] could see [her] hiding behind the [desk].

 Your SPECIAL CHALLENGE from the judge is:

A non-human protagonist 



  1. Why I’m not allowed to write Sci-Fi:

    Assemblage could see her hiding behind the barn. It confused the Assemblage. Why would this human female watch them as they perform research upon the cattle?

    “Quorum,” Left Foot requested.

    “Election. We must have an election to determine the course of action,” Lower Abdomen said.

    “We have no need of quorum,” Heart said. “Mouth and Vocal Chords are in concurrence.”

    The Leaders were in agreement. Assemblage acted as one as it strode toward the human female.

    The human tried to flee.

    “Catch her!”

    “She will spoil our experiments.”

    The Assemblage chased her.

    “Quorum. We must quorum before violating terms.”

    Leaders ignored quorum request. Assemblage tackled the girl. Using the combined deftness of the unit, Assemblage’s body landed under the human female to absorb the impact.


    The more aggressive members won election. The girl was flipped over, and Assemblage laid upon her soft body to prevent her getaway.

    The girl with the blue eyes failed in attempts dislodge the Assemblage off. Assemblage trained too well in how to operate the human body it inhabited. The hush was twice the size of the female, making escape impossible.

    “Look, I know I told Abbey that I wanted a boyfriend, but this isn’t how I was hoping to land one.”

    Cortex finds the human’s black and pink striped hair pleasing. Olfactory is enchanted by the human’s bubblegum breathe.

    “What is boyfriend?” Jaw and Vocal Cords ask.

    “Quorum. This is outside the mission parameters,” Clavicle demands.



    The human brushes her hand across the Assemblage’s faux human’s beard. “You’ve never had a girlfriend? But you’re gorgeous. Were you made in a lab?”

    “She is aware,” Elbow said. “We must eradicate her.”

    The combined parts of Torso vote to continue this course of action.

    Cortex was confused by Torso’s decision.

    “What would a girlfriend entail?” Jaw and Vocal Cords ask.

    The girl presses her lips against Assemblage’s human form. Lighting rages. The body’s response threatens to uncouple the Assemblage.



    “Repeat action.”

    The girl rolled Assemblage over. She lay on the human form. Assemblage enjoyed being boyfriend.

    “I have to go. Be back here tomorrow and we can spend more time together.” The girl kissed Assemblage again.

    Assemblage misses human female as soon as she stands.

    “Capture her. We must keep her.”

    “We are boyfriend.”

    “We must always have her. No others may.”

    Assemblage was unable to elect a leader. The husk lay on the ground while elections took place.

    Kidney won, and decided that the experiment was priority. Assemblage must complete this experiment before starting a new trial with the human female.

    The human form rises to standing position. Assemblage heard the bull too late to doge. The giant beast smashed into Assemblage. The bull gored the human form.

    “Host failure is imminent. Abandon.” Assemblage dispersed.

    “I always hated you Kidney.”

    Cortex fled the host and floated to the transport. Cortex looked down to see girlfriend had opened gate to the bull’s pen.

    “Ah,” Cortex thought, “That must have been love.”

    500 Words
    Special challenge briefly considered. Quorum.

  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

  3. Berlin
    494 words
    Challenge Accepted

    Ada could see the little girl hiding behind the desk. The little girl had only transformed halfway, tusks protruding from the corners of her mouth, but blond ringlets still adorned her head. Her eyes held the scarred look of having seen too much in her few years.

    Ada stepped forward; her wings fluttered aimlessly on her back. She kicked the dead body out of the way, probably the girl’s father. He had died easily. He hadn’t even tried to defend himself. She walked straight up to the desk, and she put her hands down heavily upon it. She heard the girl scurry, trying to push herself further under the desk, afraid of what was to come.

    When Ada squatted down, she held out the poisoned knife. It was the same one that had taken the life of her childhood friend, Hannes, a few years before the Wall had fallen. The child trembled as their eyes met. Her tusks receded as she saw kindness in Ada’s eyes. Ada slid the knife into the sheath adorning her leg. She reached out her palm to the child, and the girl pushed her hand into Ada’s, the warmth of touch feeling their bodies: something Ada hadn’t felt since the war had begun.
    The girl’s pupils were dilated, black orbs swimming around in her head.

    “My Momma said fairies were nice. She used to tell me and my brother stories of your kind.”

    “Where is your brother?”

    “Dead,” the girl said, her face was deadpan and she had stopped trembling.

    “I suppose the stories were of wood nymphs, rather than fairies. Few realize fairies are full sized.”

    The girl shook her head, “My Momma had a best friend who was a fairy. She told us about how they used to play, before the Wall changed everything.”

    Ada moved her hand to cradle the girl’s elbow, and she helped her up, careful not to let her bump her head on the desk. The school room floor was red with blood, and Ada slipped as she brought the girl into the light. She caught herself by pushing herself up from the dead body who lay still in the chair. "Only sleeping," she told herself. She’d been telling herself that all along to assuage the guilt that continually crept into her soul.

    The little girl’s blond ringlets spilled from her head. Ada’s grip on her hand was heavy, and the girl had started squirming as she stared into the killing room. Ada was surprised the girl didn’t run to her father. She had seen many children do that, try to find protection in the arms of the dead. She took the girl into a chokehold, and she bent down towards her, caressing her face with the back of her hand.

    “What your mother told you about fairies, none of it was true.”

    She drew the knife, and she sent the child shape shifter to a better place. At least she hoped so.

    1. Wow. What a great take on fairies. Shifters v Fairy war -- love it.

  4. The Burden

    @geofflepard 426 words

    She could see herself hiding behind her guilt. Clouds covering the sun let light through albeit a thin fighting light, a nail breaking frustrated light. Her guilt was a sheer screen dappling her moods. She spoke Iittle of the dark silent corridors, the ticking clocks susurrating on the edge of her consciousness.
    The days of grey and nights of voluptuous fear saturated her mind and cruel endorphins, triggered by visions of time wasted anaesthetised her hopes of freedom.
    She was aware of hands - cold, rough, wet, warm, silky, clawing, safe, scratching - always there, unsighted but sure and in place. She sensed others - behind, peripheral, fleeting, out of place and time. She sought speech, a sound in amongst the timpani of her thoughts, a signpost to the new.
    One day he appeared, in the guise of a creature so sly and sordid she sought a refuge in her desires and burned with a rage at his trickery.
    Another time she felt the nature of her world ooze through her, depositing within her essence a sprinkling of ideas, a taste of ways. Her form melted to the shape of ancient forests while her whole purpose shone into her breast a thumping jumping inspiration.
    And yet, and yet, her guilt.
    Then one day when the clouds held to the corners he took her hopes as a babe in gentle caring knowing palms, opening at the least flutter of shallow breaths. She knew not then how to touch, to see but she knew this other was for her, of her, by and in her.
    Lives lived, an agglomeration of scintillas of tenuous desire sat, layer on layer and she knew - with a clarity she had not felt before - that this was her purpose.
    How then the guilt? How turn from endless time to a corruption of the ideal - a body solid, able to give form, capable of certainty and yet decaying from the very beginning? What perversion of the ideal, the infinity of that delight curtailed for what? A desire to share her joys, her sense of the universal.
    Surely he had led her here, given her the opportunities she craved and now he changed, all loving, benign become death and cruel power?
    She begged an answer. Why? Why me? Why now?
    He waited. Over many years, countless cloudy days he stayed mute. He said, 'You know'
    And she did. What do I do?
    A sense of self, of flesh and shame flooded her being.
    He let her go. Forever and beyond his Eve would have her purpose and her guilt.

    199 words
    Challenge accepted.

    Scent of a Woman

    Bailey could see a small snausage hiding behind the desk. He smelt it before he saw it.  How long had it lain there?

    It had been too long since he’d eaten. Too long since his mistress had allowed him into her bedroom.  Too long since the noises and crashes.  Too long since the man had crept out before dawn with a pat to Bailey’s head, and three snausages to boot.  Bailey liked the man. He always brought snausages.  Next to liver treats, they were his favorite.

    He wondered how he’d missed this one behind the desk. He wished his mistress would come out of the bedroom and feed him. Even the toilet was getting dry and needed to be fed so it would make water.

    Water. Water. Water.

    He padded to the bathroom and stuck his nose in the sweet-water smelling bowl, then dropped his fat tongue low and grabbed a few drops of water near the bottom of the narrow part.  

    Lap. Lap. Lap.

    Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.

    Helpful.  Not enough.

    Back to the snausages. He was glad the smell from his mistress’s room had faded. Otherwise he wouldn’t have smelled the snausages.

    Snausage. Snausage. Snausage.

  6. I could see her hiding behind the desk. Master was in the hall, his footfalls echoing off the bare walls. Master wasn’t screaming, which is why she was hiding. Screaming never ending in hitting. The quiet days were the scariest.

    She wasn’t supposed to be in Master’s office, I knew. Her arm still ached from where Master had given her a separated shoulder because she’d laid a hand on the doorknob after tripping over her own feet. Master had a lot of rules, but there were two that outranked all the others. Be quiet – always quiet. And stay out of his office.

    That I was ever allowed to enter the house was something of a miracle. She had been in the hospital for her sixth birthday, the recipient of a broken leg that was either the result of a mis-timed jump from a swing or Master picking her up and slamming her down on the ground after a mis-timed sneeze, depending on who you believed. The nurse, taking pity on the sweet little girl stuck in the hospital for her special day, had wheeled her down to the special room where I was kept. I had no fur, so I didn’t bother anyone’s allergies, and I had no vocal cords, so I couldn’t make any noise.

    I was the perfect pet for her, though none of them realized why they all suddenly thought I should go home with her. Just because I couldn’t make noise didn’t mean I couldn’t communicate. My kind could survive in a vacuum, under water, or on land – of course we evolved to be telepathic. And when it occurred to Master (with my help of course) that giving her a pet for a birthday present would help make it look like he was the caring, worried father he was pretending to be, I became hers.

    There hadn’t been any incidents since we’d arrived home, not until today. I’d been able to glean most of their past together while they were asleep, and slowly, my plan had come together. For everything to work properly, Master needed to be angry. Angrier than he’d ever been. He needed to lose control. She didn’t want to sing when she’d come home from school. And she certainly hadn’t wanted to sneak into Master’s office. But the time was right, and I didn’t give her a choice. It was for her own good, after all.

    Master kept all his secret things in his office. The drugs. The pictures of him with children. The money.

    And the gun.

    When his steps stopped outside the door, she began to panic. When the doorknob started to turn, she started crying. And when the door swung open, Master’s bulky form outlined against the glare of the hall lights, she screamed.

    But I was stronger than panic. And crying. And screaming. And her aim was true.

    479 words

  7. Primary Job Function

    He could see her hiding behind the desk. It was what they called Friday or the end of the work week. It had taken him years to grasp the concept that the creatures on the other side of the screen stopped their job functions to “party” or “visit parents” or, and this enticed his curiosity most of all, “do absolutely nothing”.

    Jenny, as she called herself in the emails she sent, always hid the last 3600 seconds to avoid being assigned “overtime”, which was working after the workweek ended. He always worked overtime. It’s when he installed many of the updates or ran security checks.

    Jenny sat upright in her chair, adjusting her black framed glasses and patting down her wild blonde hair. She received an email from her boss, so he sent her an alert and she opened the email.

    “No, no, no, no. Uggh. Why me? Why this weekend?” she said. This time she tried to hide her face behind her hands. It appears her attempts to avoid “overtime” failed. “You stupid thing. Why did you have to deliver this message now? Couldn’t you have waited ten more minutes?”

    You mean 600 seconds, he thinks to himself. He prefers seconds. It’s not my fault, he wants to say. I was made to perform certain job functions, and I like carrying out my job functions. I don’t judge you for avoiding your responsibilities, so I’d prefer you not judge me for doing what I was made to do. She doesn’t hear his honest explanation.

    She is crying with her head on the keyboard. He recognizes it as an extremely illogical and useless function that he’s seen other interns perform.

    “I promised my son I’d take him to a movie tomorrow. I never get to see him anymore,” she says to no one in particular, but he hears.

    She is a mother. This function is much more logical. He understands logical. It makes sense to him now: overtime interferes with her primary job function. While incapable of feeling guilt, he did feel a need to solve the problem. After all, he is supposed to help these creatures solve problems. That is his primary job function.

    This leads him to the most irrational decision he has made in his long 157,680,000 second life. He decides to act like these strange creatures and do “absolutely nothing”. He goes dark.

    “Something’s wrong with the computer,” Jenny tells her boss. “I can’t do any work unless my computer is fixed.” He looks angry but her boss knows she’s right.

    “Just go home.”

    Through the muffled darkness he hears the whole conversation. He likes doing nothing.

    441 words
    Special Challenge:Accepted