Of magic and more


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No Rest For The Holy

This is my submission to the SpeakEasy  writing challenge #157

NO REST FOR THE HOLY

Winter seemed reluctant to release its hold. Snowflakes drifted down, waving merrily at God as he glared balefully out of the window. He sighed and turned away. How all his devotees would laugh if they saw him now- Creator of the universe, sitting bundled up in blankets and shivering! Those foolish younglings of the Weather Department! When would they learn to do their jobs? Today, he decided, he’d go over to the office himself and pay the boys a visit.

 

Much of God’s irritation had waned by the time he reached the gold and silver doors of the Weather Department, but it came back with a vengeance when he stepped inside and found the place in complete disarray. Pizza boxes and crumpled coffee cups littered the switchboards. Ethan and Nicholas were ogling at the sexy secretary Lilith’s rear as she picked up bits of paper from the floor. Meanwhile Patrick, the regulator, was snoring away to glory with his nose pressed against the Snow dial. No wonder it was so cold!

“What the hell is going on here?” God burst out angrily. Lilith turned and smiled seductively at him. “Oh, don’t mention my home so frequently, Father.” She purred. “You know how I miss it.”

“Wicked wench!”God exclaimed. “You miss your home so much, don’t you? Be gone then, you’re fired!”

“You senile old man!” Lilith hissed and slunk away.

“As for you two!” Ethan and Nicholas shrunk into their chairs at God’s fury. “Iniquity is NOT permitted in the holy abode of the Lord!” The ground shook slightly. Ah, how he loved that effect! The acoustics of this office were better than the old one- he’d have to thank Michael for that. However, he certainly did not thank anyone for what happened next. The vibrations from his voice woke up Patrick, who in his startled half-conscious condition flailed his fat arms about, pushing random levers and knobs. Outside, thunder rumbled in the face of scorching sunlight, and hailstones mingled with rain.

 

Clearly unused to doing anything other than leering at Lilith, the other two employees lost their heads. “What do we do? What do we do?’ They cried helplessly.

If no one can handle this situation I must! God thought, and charged forward, only to slip on a puddle of stale coffee and hit his head hard against the control panel.

 

Many hassles and hellfires later, God sat in his chambers holding an icepack to his head.

“See, Father that is why I tell you to leave all the administration to me.” Michael, his eldest son, was admonishing him.

“I have left it all to you, and that’s why the quality of staff is declining day by day.” God grumbled.

Michael snorted impatiently. “How often must I explain, Father? The budgetary demands of this fiscal year require cost cutting, and since Lucifer won’t give up his fondness for video games, Gabriel won’t control his sweet tooth, and you must have new robes to wear every week, I saw no other way but to hire cheap labour so we may all survive in peace.”

God opened his mouth to make a comment, but nothing came out. Instead, he said, “I want to see Lucifer immediately.”

“Hold on, I’ll Whatsapp him.” Michael tapped busily away at his iPhone. “He’s on his way.”

 

God’s favourite son Lucifer shuffled in after a while. His eyes were glued to the game he was playing, shoulders jerking left and right as he operated the controls. God eyed Lucifer’s jeans with displeasure, they were hanging off his hips and God despised that. Teenage had ruined Lightborn.

“Lucifer.”

The shaggy haired teenager paid no attention.

“Lucifer!” God threw his icepack at his son.

“Damn!” Lucifer cursed. “Look what you did, Dad! I just got injured fatally!”

“Who has injured you?” cried God, alarmed. “I will maim them!”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “In the game, Dad. Anyway, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes.” God turned and switched on the plasma TV. Headlines and news reports filled the screen. “Lucifer, can you tell me why the human babies are being born with horns and tails, and in some cases, wearing…” God tried to come up with a word suitable to describe the stiff pink skirts he had seen on the infants.

“Tutus.” Lucifer supplied sheepishly, and shrugged. “I just thought it’d be funny.”

God save me! Thought God, and then remembered. Oh wait, that’s me!

God sighed tiredly. There was no rest for the holy…

 

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“Winter seemed reluctant to release its hold.”

  • Your post must be dated April 13, 2013, or later.
  • Submissions must be 750 words or fewer.
  • Submissions must be fiction or poetry.
  • You must include the following sentence as the FIRST line in your submission: “Winter seemed reluctant to release its hold.”
  • You must also include a reference to the media prompt.
  • The speakeasy is for submissions written specifically for the grid. Please don’t submit an entry if you intend to showcase it to another blog link-up. Such posts are deleted without notice.
  • Please don’t post long explanations before your post. We want your writing to be the star of the show. If you need to clarify anything, feel free to do so at the end.


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Trapped

Hi! FF came early this time, but I loved the picture prompt so much, I wrote my story as quickly as I could…

To anyone who wants to join FF, this weekly challenge is hosted by the super-awesome Rochelle, who gives us a photo prompt on which we are to write a piece of 100 word flash fiction. Come on and play, its fun! This week’s picture is by John Nixon 🙂

copyright John Nixon

                                 Copyright- John Nixon

Here are my 97 words:

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TRAPPED

Elle crouched in the woods, waiting.

“The roots are coming for you..” Uncle Rob had driven her insane, whispering it over and over until she saw eyes in the branches, heard the leaves moaning, and the roots..calling her, always calling her to join them in the darkness.

 

When she told her parents, they had her locked up in that grey hospital, assuming she was dead when it burned down in a freak accident.

 

Gales of laughter and familiar voices alerted Elle and she stood up to greet her family.

Tonight the roots were coming for them.

 

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23 Comments

Cursed

Hi, y’all! My 8th attempt at writing 100 word flashfiction for FF, which is hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Every week Rochelle chooses a picture prompt, on which we write approximately 100 words, give or take a few. Thanks Adam for this week’s picture 😀

AdamIckes-boardwalk

                                                   copyright – Adam Ickes

Here are my 100 words 🙂

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CURSED

The village was united before the war tore it apart.

Overnight, friends became enemies, and suspicion spread like a poisonous fog.

A bridge was built to divide the village into two. Any person who tried to cross the bridge would be executed.

Lovers Hayden and Jasmine dared to defy. One clear spring afternoon, the two lovers were burnt at the stake.

Those involved in the execution were found dead in their beds the next morning. The surviving inhabitants fled the village in terror.

 Legend has it, every leap year, the spirits of the villagers come back to replay the massacre.

 

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17 Comments

A Helping Hand

A HELPING HAND

Joanna sat in her study with her fifth cup of coffee for that night. Her husband Gerhard was fast asleep upstairs and so were the children. Go on, you can do it, she urged herself. She lowered her eyes to the .45 pistol on the desk. She had sneaked it away from Gerhard’s closet when he was showering earlier in the day. The pistol had a silencer in it- Gerhard always kept it in the nearest safe place- the closet- in case there was an intruder.

 

Joanna let her fingers close around the cold metal, knuckles whitening as her grip tightened. All she had to do was go up the stairs, into the bedroom and fire a single bullet. It would be so easy, killing Gerhard. Just as it should have been all along, for all these years.  Joanna had stopped eschewing the thought of murdering her husband when she realized how much she had suffered at his hands. She had left everything for him- a promising modeling career, her city, even her family. In return she had seen days and months of abuse- the beatings, the insults, the excuses she had had to give for her bruises…

 

No more, she vowed. Steeling her nerves, Joanna got up and walked quietly into the dark hallway. The sound of swishing fabric made her whip around as a blurred neon shape moved into her field of vision. Thankful of her sharp reflexes, Joanna tackled the intruder. “Don’t move, I’ve got a gun!” she warned in a harsh whisper, cursing her luck. Of all the nights, this had to happen now!

“And I’ve got a knife.” The intruder said in a trembling voice, familiar to Joanna. Her eyes better adjusted to the darkness now, recognized the person below her. “Sadie?” she cried softly. “What are you doing here?” Joanna helped her husband’s secretary up. “Don’t try to attack me again.” She told the sniffling girl, prying the knife out of her fingers.

Switching on the lights, Joanna turned back to Sadie with a raised eyebrow. “Well? Explain, or I’ll call the police.”

“No, no, please don’t do that!” Sadie burst into tears. “I…. I came to kill you.”

“In this costume?” Joanna felt a wry smile tugging at her lips. The glow-in-the-dark jumpsuit would make it difficult for anyone not to see it coming their way. “Nice camouflage.”

“What?” Sadie sniffed. “Neon is the new sexy! I ordered it online just last week. Priority shipping.”

“So why did you want to kill me, Sadie?”

The pretty girl looked bitter. “Gerhard- I mean Mr. Adler told me to.”

Joanna narrowed her eyes. “So he wants me out of the way.”

Sadie nodded. “Mr. Adler and I… we’ve been having a secret affair. He told me he loved me. He gave me this-“ She fingered the delicate silver chain she was wearing- “and promised to marry me if I killed you.” She started crying again.

Foolish little thing, thought Joanna with a mixture of amusement and contempt. She decided she had to finish Gerhard off that very night. If she missed this opportunity, she knew she might not get the courage again. Only, what was to be done with the silly creature in front of her?

“Two pairs of hands are better than one.” The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them.

“What do you mean?” Sadie cocked her head at Joanna, looking at her with wide blue eyes.

“Well Sadie.” Joanna tried her best to sound convincing. “Gerhard doesn’t love you at all.”

“Of course he does!” Sadie bristled. “He told me so. And he got me a Porsche a few days back!”

“Darling, that’s nothing. He got me a 10 carat diamond ring from Tiffany a while ago.” Said Joanna truthfully. Gerhard had always been particular about giving expensive gifts to make up for being the world’s worst husband.

“Oh! A diamond!” Sadie sounded outraged. “He certainly never got me one…”

“See? There’s the proof.”

“How could he lead me on like this?” Sadie raged. “I want to kill him now!”

“As I said Sadie, two pairs of hands are better than one. Let’s do it together.”

“What’s in it for you?

“Despite appearances, he isn’t all that good to me either.” Joanna pulled her robe aside to reveal a yellowing bruise. “I’ll split the insurance with you, fifty-fifty.”

They shook hands.

A Bee Gee’s song played in Joanna’s mind. She smiled. No more Stayin’ Alive for Gerhard.

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This was written for speakeasy #152 at yeahwrite. The challenge was (a)to write a piece of fiction or poetry,750 words or less(mine is 750 including the title)(b)to use the sentence ,”“It would be so easy.”,anywhere in the piece and (c)to make some kind of reference to the media prompt, which this week is a video for ‘Staying Alive’ by the Bee Gees.In case,this challenge interests you or you would like to read what others have written,click on this link http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/152-open/