May 2013

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04 May 2013

May is upon us and this month is another where we are going to mix it up a bit.  We are going to once again continue the story through the entirety of May.  This will be fun.  In addition to this we are only getting a single prompt each week.  This prompt will be a “picture prompt”.

The prompt is:


Begin writing
I had her cornered.  The monkeys and my bodyguards had her trapped on the balcony by the cleaning supplies.  Carrying my broom, wearing my Givenchy pointed hat and my ruby colored Converse sneakers, I walked up to Dorthy cackling.  “Well my pretty, you and your little dog are going to pay for killing my sister now.”

I could see the panic in her face as she clutched her tremoring mutt and began stammering.  “Your excuses and explanations mean nothing to me.” I snapped at her.  “You can tell them to the police.”  She was droning on about tornadoes, and Kansas, and snake oil salesmen.  Then she mentioned her Aunt Em and a whole string of others with only code names:  The Wizard, Tin Man, Scarecrow, Toto and on and on and on.  “Stop,” I yelled “I saw you drop that house on my sister.  There was no one else.  It was you.”  I reached into the top of my little black dress and retrieved my cell phone.  I dialed ‘911’ but as I moved my finger to press ‘SEND’ Dorothy grabbed a bucket of soapy water and threw it at me.

Apparently, I melted.  Nothing left but my ruby sneakers and a reflection in the puddle of the me that was no longer there.  My minders seemed almost pleased about this.  They shook Dorthy’s hand and began singing as they turned and went back inside the Condo.  No one seemed to notice me.  I looked at my hand.  I could see it but apparently none of the others could see me at all.  I looked at the puddle – there was my reflection; muddled and dark but recognizable, at least to me.  If any of the others on that balcony saw it they did not let on.  Carefully, I leaned down and pulled my feet from the sneakers, watching my reflection and being careful not to bump into anyone.  I moved slowly to the corner of the balcony and waited.  After everyone left I pulled open the sliding glass door and went inside.  In the hallway I moved towards the stairs and started when I caught a movement in my periphery as I passed the upstairs bath.  It was my reflection in the mirror there.  Well, it was but it wasn’t.  I was a dark, murky shadow that sort of resembled what I had once looked like.

I went downstairs.  The monkeys were ransacking the kitchen and the bodyguards were trying to get hold of anything of value.  They were robbing me blind.  “Stop it” I screamed and they all paused briefly.  Some of them shrugged before resuming their pillaging but most just went right back to it.
Time is up. Put down your writing implements and step away from the paper.

11 May 2013

Part II of the continuing story of May.

The prompt is:


Begin writing
The monkeys were flinging food and poop from the kitchen.  The guards were ransacking files and looking for a safe.  I was not visible and barely audible, apparently, so I opted to leave.  Making a hasty exit out the front door I noticed that I cast no shadow.  I hurried down the street where an open house was underway.  It was a large Victorian gingerbread looking abode.  Not my style but perfect for what I needed now.

The front door was open so I slipped in and waited.  I crouched low in the corner of the front room and no one noticed me all day, despite a heroic and well attended showing by Mindy Charleston, who wants to be YOUR realtor.  When Mindy finally closed the open house and made her way down the walk, I got up.  I peered out the window, watched her pull her “open house” signs from the lawn and back down the drive.  I needed to understand what had happened to me.  My reflection remained murky, dark, and indistinct.  I had suffered no degradation in my senses of touch, sight or smell.  I was simply invisible and heard only faintly, as if from far away.

Food and water and probably other sustenance was still required, and relished, as I discovered when my stomach growled and I found some cookies that Mindy had left.  Apparently for another showing of this horrendously ostentatious house tomorrow.  This is weird but at the same time it is fantastic.  It’s like having a superpower.  I can use it for good or for evil.  I needed to get some place to experiment.  As I went to the back door I stumped my toe on the sill.  That hurts – I am probably not immortal or invincible then.  Just invisible but, that may be enough.

I wandered aimlessly through the streets.  I helped myself to food from a Deli.  I discovered that when I touched something it too disappeared from sight.  When I picked up the cookie to bite it, it disappeared.  When I sat it down it reappeared sans the bite that I had taken.  I took a shopping bag and snacks from Trader Joe’s and topped it off with money from the First National Bank.  Then I headed West, out of town to the house where my sister had lived before Dorothy had murdered her.  As I crossed the bridge over the moat surrounding her house, I looked over the edge – there was my reflection, shadowy and indistinct but noticeable.  I couldn’t pass through walls or locked doors but an unlocked window was no match for me and I quickly gained entrance to my dead sister’s home.
Time is up. Put down your writing implements and step away from the paper.

25 May 2013

Part III of the continuing story of May.  Note that I missed last week.  I got a copy of last week’s prompt today.  This means that Part III is made with the 4th prompt and Part IV will be made with the 3rd prompt.  Pretty confusing huh?

The prompt is:


Begin writing
I looked around my sister’s house.  She had been dead for more than a month but everything seemed intact.  There were no close neighbors and it appeared no one had noticed her demise.  No one missed her.  Her leopard skin stilettos, slightly dusty, stood on the floor by the window I had come in through.  All the fruit in the fruit bowl had shriveled up and the inside of the fridge was beginning to look like a science project but, the foods in the pantry and the freezer were still good.  From the look of things I should be able to hole up here for a month, maybe more.

I needed to learn more about my new “superpower” of invisibility.  I raised my hands and crooked two fingers on each when I thought “superpower”.  I am not yet sure how super it will be.  I headed to the back of the house.  Perhaps there were some books in the library that would help.  I needed to understand and experiment.

Grabbing the first book I saw, I looked at myself in the mirror.  My reflection was murky still but not as dark as it had been.  Kind of like a wisp of grey smoke vaguely shaped like me.  “I looked pretty good for a puff of smoke.” I thought but I could not see the accompanying grin.

The book I had in my hand was not visible in the mirror at all.  I looked down at the book and opened it.  I could see it just fine.  I could read it no problem.  I sat it down and when I released it the reflection reappeared.  This could get interesting I thought.

That night I ate ice cream and crackers for dinner.  I retired early so that I could get an early start in the morning.  I was going hunting.  Hunting for Dorothy. But first, I needed to practice in public.  I quickly learned that driving was not a good idea.  When I grasped the steering wheel the car disappeared.  I decided that driving an invisible car in traffic was probably not a good idea.  It seemed that the act of holding something was the trigger that rendered it invisible.  I could not explain why the little black dress I still wore was invisible or why my ruby red sneakers had remained visible. There was still a lot I did not understand.

I left the house and headed barefoot into town.  I still had all the money I had taken from the bank but I didn’t really need it.  At the produce stand I picked an apple off the pile; as soon as I grabbed it – it vanished.  No one would see an apple vanish as long as I was careful.  I was tangible though.  I tested this by bumping a few passersby.  I slapped Eileen Maple on the back of her head.  I never did like her.  Her reaction was clear, she felt it all right.  The sporting goods store had a handgun on display.  I grabbed it and some hollow points.  I headed towards Dorothy’s house.
Time is up. Put down your writing implements and step away from the paper.

Still 25 May 2013 (later in the day though)

Part IV of the continuing story of May.  Note – this was actually the 3rd picture in the series.  I had to use it out of turn.  See above for more details (if you care).

The prompt is:


Begin writing
Walking was too slow so I hopped in the back of a pickup to facilitate a speedier trip across town.  I experimented with my “superpower” all the way over there.  I could only crook the fingers of one hand to simulate the quotation marks now because I was reluctant to release my grasp on the gun.  If I grabbed on to the side of the truck bed the truck would disappear along with all inanimate objects in or on the truck.  The driver remained visible.  I did this only once, at a stop sign when he was busy singing along with the bad country music blaring out of his radio.  He never noticed but, his dog did.  The dog was riding shotgun in the cab and when the truck disappeared around her – she freaked.  She could also hear me even though the driver could not.  Maybe the frequency of my voice had risen to that range that dogs can hear but people cannot.

He calmed her down and we continued but I had to make a quick exit from the truck when the driver turned to get onto the interstate.  I still had about two miles to go before I got to Dorothy’s.  I loaded and checked out the pistol as I walked.  It was a 9mm Glock.  Nice weight and great balance.  I popped a couple of shots at a speed limit sign.  Yep, the gun worked fine even if it was invisible in my hand.  The reports from my practice shots were noticed and someone must have called the cops.  A prowl car with two patrolmen got there in no time.  I stepped back, out of their way and stayed still.  I could not risk bumping into anyone at this point.  I was too close.

Dorothy’s house backed up to a green belt.  The wildflowers were blooming and there was a field about 100 yds wide before the wood started.  When I got there I grabbed the front doorknob.  Immediately the whole house became transparent.  I could see fish in what must have been her aquarium but, Dorothy was not inside.  I spotted her though; through the house, by the field, looking out towards the wood.  Her back was to me and she had not noticed the brief disappearance of the structure.

I walked around to the back with gun in hand.  I planned to sneak close to her, blow on her ear to get her attention and look into her eyes when I shot her in the neck.  I expected this to get messy.  I was about ten feet from Dorothy when she turned and looked right at me, “What took you so long?  I thought you would never get here.”

“You can see me?” I asked.

“Of course I can.  I can hear you too.  I created you.  I gave you the power to disappear when I tossed that wash water on you.”  Then she raised her right hand and I saw she was armed too.  Her 44 looked like a cannon.  The barrel was huge. Or maybe it wasn’t.  Maybe a gun just looks bigger when you are looking at it from the wrong end.

I fired my Glock.  It was louder this time than my practice shots had been.  Dorothy went down.  A neat red hole appeared on her forehead but otherwise she looked still, at peace.  Then I saw the smoke curling out of the barrel of the piece she still clutched in her hand.  That explained why the report had been so loud.  We had fired simultaneously.  I realized that as I dropped to my knees.  I looked down and saw the front of my little black dress was wet.  I tasted the coppery flavor of my own blood and I could smell death.  I wondered if my blood on my dress was visible.  I wondered if my blood on the ground was visible, I assumed it must be.  I pitched face forward into the grass.  Shit, Dorothy was dead but I wasn’t going anywhere either.  Had I won?
Time is up. Put down your writing implements and step away from the paper.

Author: tnkerr

Mostly making things up and writing them down to amuse myself!

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