Wednesday, 15 July 2015

Drabble Wednesday: Comeuppance And A Little Sunshine

Today on Drabble Wednesday it’s payback time, with three stories of less than savoury characters getting theirs. Also the last story, The Real Estate Game, features the main character concept by one of the winners in my Sunshine Book Show Rafflecopter Contest, Linda Bonney Olin. Congratulations, Linda, and I hope you enjoy your character’s demise.




No Rhyme, Nor Reason

“One bone, two. Is the sky still blue?”
She skipped a few steps, stirring up dust.
“Two bones, three. What will become of me?”
She twirled about, dancing, coming to a stop beside a figure slumped in the corner. “My name’s Lucy, what’s yours?” No answer, and suddenly—
“Time for grub, maggots!" The prison guard ambled down the corridor between cells, followed by men pushing three trolleys. As he neared, the guard halted abruptly, staring into Lucy’s cell.
“What the— Lucy! What did I tell ya! Stop killing your cellmates!”
“Why?” She giggled. “Three bones, four. I want some more.”






High Stakes Hnefa-Tafl

The chieftain hesitated, his hand wavering over a game piece. He glanced at his opponent. The inscrutable stranger smiled.
One of his nearby servants coughed. “Quiet!” The chieftain roared, and struck the man in the face. “I need quiet!” Then he inhaled, and shifted a piece.
“Unfortunate.” His opponent made his play. “I have captured your king. You have yielded the game.”
“NO!” The chieftain slammed his fists on the board flinging it into the air.
“Yes! I will collect our wager.” The stranger waved his hand. “Your soul!”
The tyrannical chieftain gasped and died, while his oppressed subjects cheered.



This next story is the result of my Sunshine Book Show Giveaway. My prize winner, Linda Bonney Olin, got to create and name a character to be used in Drabble Wednesday. Here is her character, iffy real estate agent Emma Faye Kerr, and her poor unfortunate (but well-deserved) fate:




The Real Estate Game

Emma Faye Kerr stared at the black spot on the wall. She couldn’t unload this rattling monstrosity of house on unsuspecting clients if they could see the problems.
“Stupid painters. They promised they’d hide those mold stains. I’ve got a couple ripe for the plucking coming in an hour.”
She leaned in, taking a closer look. Her hand brushed against the spot.
“What the—”
She screamed. Black slime slid from the wall onto her hand. It grew, engulfed her, consuming flesh and bone. Within minutes nothing was left of Emma Faye Kerr but a black stain on the floor.


2 comments:

Linda Bonney Olin said...

Ha! Emma Faye Kerr has been transformed into Eustace L. Holmes. heh heh... Thanks, Anita!

A. F. Stewart said...

You're welcome. I enjoyed writing the story.

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