Wednesday, 15 October 2014

Drabble Wednesday

I'm starting a new feature today, where I showcase my adventures in micro fiction or drabbles, stories that are 100 words or less (or in the case of drabbles exactly 100 words). First to be showcased is one of my micro fiction serials, a little something I like to call...



The Virtual Adventures of Frankie and Joni






Hand Me the Freaking Pail

Noah had it freaking good compared to me.  He only got forty days and forty nights with his flood.  We’re up to day of despair number 1,039 and still counting.  It’s gone way past treading water and into full-blown man-the-boat evacuation.  I’m freaking sick of bobbing waves and bailing the leaky vessel. I may throw somebody overboard—namely my idiot friend Frankie who got me into this mess.
At least Frankie says it’ll stop in seven more days, on a Thursday.  That’s when this glitch of a virtual reality program ends and we can get off this holo-grid.

Name Glitch

Frankie and I are on vacation.
The company gave us a free trip to their new virtual site (and a coffeemaker) to compensate for the last adventure that got “rained out”.  So here we are, basking in the sunshine at idyllic Sunnybrook Farm.  Today, we get to meet the famous Rebecca.
I nudged Frankie. “Here she comes.”
“She looks different than the brochure.  Isn't she supposed to be a girl?”
A rather striking lady dressed in early 1930’s style approached us.
“Hello, do either of you know how to get to Manderley?”
Oh shoot, the idiots added the wrong Rebecca.

Cyber Terror!

“Oh the horror!  Save the women and children and the Twix!  She’s goin’ ta blow, Captain!”
I listened to Frankie’s predictive, and strange, shouts with despair and gloom, staring at the now malfunctioning, smoking, and slowly self-destructing computer.  The horrible sight gave me the urge to run from the building screaming, flee into the hills, and become a hermit.
“I told ya we shoulda mollycoddled the wee thing, Captain.  And now—oh, it’s lost!”  The computer blew with a loud pop.
“Shoot.  The program’s toast.  I wonder what happened?”
“Maybe we shouldn't have programmed that virtual ghost into the machine?”

The Dimension That Ate Thursday

I blame it all on Frankie. I just did what he said, and pushed the shiny red button. Okay, maybe I was thinking more about the holographic rock concert I wanted to see, and didn't pay attention when Frankie told me not to hold down the button for more than a second or two. But he shouldn't have hooked up the virtual interface to an interdimensional energy source.
How was I to know that a pocket wormhole would open and swallow Thursday? Nobody remembers what happened or where we went exactly, but everyone keeps having weird flashes of flying monkeys.

Frankie and Dr. Seuss

“Tardy we may be, but we’ll party hearty, you’ll see!”  Frankie grinned at me over the computer generated snack table.
I gave him an exasperated look.  “What are you doing?”
“It’s a Dr. Seuss party.  I’m rhyming.”  He grinned and tilted his Cat in the Hat chapeau at me.
“It’s bad enough we’re wearing these ridiculous outfits,” I glanced down at my Whoville get-up.  “Remember we’re working, scoping out any program glitches.  There will be no “party hearty”, smartie.”
“There’s a rhyme, just take the time.”
I sighed and stuffed a virtual muffin in his mouth to keep him quiet.




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