Dirt Cheap

 

Super Short Story Saturday 

Dirt Cheap

By PR Henriksen 

"Planet for sale." The man said. 

In a crowd of over 17,000 unique beings, I still got tons of sideways looks and a plethora "tentacle" encounters. He couldn't see me way down there, behind the auctioneer, but I knew him- sorta. Life's journey?  I flipped an 1878 double eagle gold piece through my fingers, weighing the fate of the world.  I could never have planned this.

Foster Fluff - Momma's Girls #53

Flash Fiction Friday

Sometimes in Life you just need to capture what is unfolding. That is one of the reasons I started doing the comics. And sometimes you just need puppies, because they make the world a better place. Either way, story is often in the eye of the beholder. Have a great weekend!

In what ways have you experimented with telling story?

Old School Can Be New Again

Screen shot of Hanx Writer in Use - errors and all! 

Writing Wednesdays: Old School Can Be New Again, or Have you lost that lovin' feeling?

I'm not that old, but when I first went to college in 1985 I had a manual typewriter. The first word processors, on the first computers, were just coming out. Not many kids had a computer with one (and a printer) to bring to school at the time. Although better than 50% of the girls in my dorm had electric typewriters, some with very beginning word processing abilities (i.e. you could backspace and make a correction or change a couple of words on a small screen, BEFORE it typed out your line for you).

When I went to college I had a choice between two manual typewriters (I wish I could tell you the names, but it has been a while). The older one was my dad or mom's and the newer one was in slimmer, white case, lined with blue. It had been my grandfather's. I took the newer one. It was not only a bit less bulky and more stylish, but the keys pushed down just a bit smoother and easier.

Awash in Nostalgia and Wood Badge

Cold, early am start, but the QM had HOT Cocoa!

Well, the time is fast approaching for something I've been doing the last couple of falls.... And yes, it has cut into my fall riding time, but it has been important.  I've been going to Wood Badge.  It is the Boy Scout's Leadership Training - for the leaders.  This will be my third year at Wood Badge (second time as staff).  It takes a lot of planning and work through out the year and then two really long weekends in September or October (last year was October and it was C-O-L-D).  I know it was cold, because I was out in a tent!

Note to Self

Photo of my 2014 Sherlock Calendar - August

Flash Fiction Friday:  Note to Self (250 words)

By PR Henriksen

Ten pounds of fluffy, faithful love exploded into a riot of Biblical furry fury for the couple of minutes it took them. Her war cries still echoed in my ears, becoming a deep, pulsing throb.

Note to self- Next time, lock the bathroom door!

Rivulets of bubbles ran down my naked body, popping and fading into nothingness, including a lack of wet or cold.  The cavalry was late.  Their recent cutbacks must have included clocks.  I tried to wiggle my toes, but they didn’t do much. 

Bad guys have no boundaries or sense of propriety.  Channel five said the temperature was only eight degrees this morning.  Why’d they crack the window?  They also stole my computer and went anti-Martha Stewart all over my bedroom and bathroom in the process. Bastards! I’d spent my day off prettying things up.

Note to self- Next time, keep handgun on hand, even in the bathroom!

The rhythmic thumping continued to slow as I went for Mindy.  Her soulful chocolate eyes were clouding over, as snowflakes settled lightly upon her, soon to be pink, white fur.  My fault. Pink-colored water flowed over the side of the tub, following the path of my reaching arm, which was four inches too short. I could almost touch her. The pounding in my head and chest faded, as the pitter-patter of combat-booted feet tromped in.  Two drops of wet slid down my face.

Oh, how I hated pink. Note to self- Next time bleed a more fashionable color!

***********************
No particular prompt for next week.  Let's pants it and see what happens!

Thinking of a Master Plan

When I find this, I'm going to get it! (Not mine.  Misc. feed pic.)

Writing Wednesdays: Thinking of a Master Plan

Perfect on the path. (Morgue File)

Plans, planning, planed, structure, architecture, form, function, design, layout, map, guide, road, path, pictured, pattern, organized, imagined, dreamed, schemed, vision, etc.

So, how do your ideas and stories come together?  I'm guessing it is some combination of the options up top right (Yes, I did forget to a add "pulled out of my bum", thank-you for reminding me.) This is usually the point at which such a conversation would devolve down to plotters vs. pantsers.  Amazingly, this article will not disappoint.

Plotters are usually thought of as those who execute a meticulously pre-planned structural layout with luggage (and I'm talking the nice stuff here like awesome steamer trunks full of detailed goodness, not the small duffel-sized bag I pack for my 3-week motorcycle trips).  Pantsers, on the other hand, are more like my missing option… thought to be pulling stuff out of their bums as they go.

Moto-Monday was Awash!

I'm afraid Moto-Monday was awash this week.  I can't tell you how close I was to riding into work yesterday.  But things felt off, so I checked the weather more closely before departing and decided to wimp out and take my truck.  It's a 4x4 and I'm darn glad of it.  The rains came down, pouring, and didn't stop for HOURS. I had areas when I drove home where the water was nearing the tops of my tires.  I was going 10 mph in a couple of spots and I had rooster tails off my front wheels kicking water up on my hood.  My friend left work and hour later and ended up stranded for the night out near work. 

Today they've been trying to clear up the abandoned cars from the roads. They don't know when any of the express-ways will be good to go.  I personally have always been uncomfortable riding down a top-free tunnel on express-ways like ours that have the high cement walls.  This would be why.

Click On Detroit Image

Yes, that is a mini-van/suv's rear door up in the foreground.  I can safely and thankfully say, this particular time, I am sooooo grateful that I did NOT ride in to work.  We were getting leaks in our building yesterday too, because they chose this week to re-do the roof.  Nicely played Michigan.  Nicely played. 

Epic Flooding!  For more info just down the street... you can check out Click On Detroit

Horror in Two Lines

Flash "Horror" Fiction Friday

Upside?  I did get inspired by this week's prompt.

Picture taken of my 2014 Sherlock calendar-August.

Downside? It got interesting and complicated fast.

Short Version? It won't be ready for prime time until next Friday. It needs more time to simmer and stew and to soak up all of the good creative juices. This does also give you additional time to join in on the fun.

So, for your amusement and inspiration today - I offer up 33 Two Sentence Horror Stories.

Necrosis from MorgueFile

Here is mine:
 
Eyes wide open, I sprang up from the nightmare.  
Looking down, I found my body wouldn't be joining me. 

Now, don't be afraid to show us yours!

Can you Imagine?

From the MorgueFile

Writing Wednesdays: Imagination

I figured I'd stick with the fish bowl theme for another day.  Fish sure can be nifty!  This is my work-desk buddy, Capt. America.

Last week we talked about description and how much is too much, but perhaps we should have discussed imagination first.  You can't describe, as a writer, what you can't imagine.  Being in the imaginary story business, we obviously have to imagine for their to be a story.  The most common question writers get asked is "Where do you get your ideas from?"  And the most common response seems to be "From everywhere."

So, where do YOUR ideas come from? 

Fishbowls and Freedoms

From the MorgueFile

Moto-Monday:  Fishbowls and Freedoms

A fish-eye lens can add an interesting perspective to an object. It usually warps it a bit past reality, but shows an expanse and breadth of scope you wouldn't have gotten in another way. Funny, it seems to work just the opposite "out" in the "real" world.

When I'm riding for hours a day and maybe even for many days in a row, part of my mind does a lot of wandering and thinking, asking strange questions and wondering about different things. (Ok, I sing in my head sometimes too, but that's another discussion.)

Witch Hunt

Instagram inspiration from @Jeera

Flash Fiction Friday:  Witch Hunt

By PR Henriksen

The men were panting heavily, just inside the tavern's door. All three of them look liked they'd had quite a run, chests heaving, bellies bouncing.

"Did you" ..breath "see a black cat" ..breath "run in here" ..breath "a minute ago?"

Two dozen women looked up, some expressions showed pity, others looked exasperated, and still others looked mildly amused. The woman closest to the door was the owner, Ms. Mabel Barrett. She causally tucked a long, red curl behind her right ear, almost as if she was trying to pay attention to them.  She smiled slowly and waved her hand around the expanse of her establishment.  Her smile grew as she watched the men's eyes look around and spot almost a dozen cats in easy eye-shot, eight of which were black. Every one of them sat next to a woman who casually stroked it.