75 WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- March 2012 -- Culhwch Wins!!

[High Eight]

Down there in the Dark


That, boy? That's the Grantham Deep section. Closed years ago it was. There was an explosion. Firedamp. Burnt for days. They sealed it up, all the men and boys still in there. Probably all dead anyway - at least I hope so. Duw, I hope so. The owners never paid any compensation.

There's a chill in that heading now. And sometimes you can hear – things. Picks and shovels, maybe. Distant cries. Screams of rage......

[TheDustyZebra]

Pre-science


“This is where he lives -- the greatest wizard ever!”

"Sony the Magnificent? Really?”

“Wait till you see his magic box!”

“Can he really see the future in it?”

“Just like in a crystal ball, except anyone can see the pictures. And they talk, too! Here, peek in this window.”

“I can see it! Strange pictures, moving -- a man, going into a blue box ... hey, it vanished!”

“Awesome, huh? I saw the same thing last week.”

[DarkPoet]

The Alchemist



The wizard sobbed as slumped into his chair, the air throbbing with magic.

“**** it! 40 years!” Before him, spun an orb of bright new gold.

“You’ve done it!” cried the bright eyed boy at his shoulder,“You found the one ingredient to turn lead into gold.”

“Yes!” The wizard spat and ran his wizened fingers through thethousands of tinkling bottles on the table.

“Then why...?”

“I can’t remember which one it is!”

[slindeman]

The Weeping Wall

Maria, late for school, clambered upward. Their home had burrowed deeper into the earth, making the ascent arduous. Papá had spent another night swilling cerveza and whoring.

The front room was empty. Mamá should have been there, pacing, her hand brushing against the plaster walls. One wall was damp, glistening.

"¿Donde está?" Maria called out, worried.

Papá stumbled in through the front door and lurched toward the bathroom. The weeping wall leapt forward, crushing him.

[HareBrain]

Late home


When Eddie got in from work, something seemed off. Couldn’t place it — thought he probably just lost money at the bookies. All through our takeaway curry, not a word. Even he wasn’t usually this silent. I didn’t ask, didn’t want his problems. And if he was punishing me, I wasn’t rising to it.

Not till bedtime I noticed his head was a festering skull, sockets dropping worms on the sheets.

His snoring was better though.

[Phyrebrat]

Legoboy

In our run-down, silty squat, scribble-haired Leo sits cross-legged on a faded pastel throw, surveying a confetti of bricks scattered around him like cake sprinkles. Picking, turning and fixing; he creates, humming flatly.

‘What are you making, hon?’ Mum asks.

‘House, house, house.’ He answers.

Walls develop a primary tint, dripping pipes fall silent and a warm air settles.

‘Well done!’ Says mum.

Leo‘s touching my wheelchair now, holding more bricks; ‘Legs, legs, legs’.

[Moonbat]

A Simple Spell


The hobo wizard, reeking of Leprechaun whiskey, slumped into the chair opposite me, “I've found it!” he proclaimed.

He'd spent his life searching for a spell to ensure people obeyed his wishes.

“Has it rare materials or a tricky concoction?” I asked, aware of his efforts to focus on the bottle beside me.

“Just one word.”

“One word? Tell me!”

He smiled and produced a hip flask.

“Say please.”

[James Coote]

Search Light

In the darkness, Taylor misjudged, sending it skittering from Kan’s hand. Bounding after it, his toe caught something unseen, landing him smack into the deck.
Kan imagined Taylor, fuming, impressions of grip struts from the metal floor plastered across his cheeks. Instead,
"What did you say it did?"
"She said it would help me find what I wanted," Kan replied.
"It worked," Taylor lifted the trapdoor cover on which the little magic stone glowed.

[Highlander]

Different Lives
The battle was over and my Majik was spent. No way to heal as I watched the dark figure approach.
“Your time has come. We are alike you and I but I followed the Tower of Light whilst you tracked the dwarven dungeons. Prepare to diiiiiiiiieeeeee........”

I thrust an enchanted elven dagger into his chest and he collapsed.

I wondered who this figure was and pulled back his mask and staggered back!
It was myself!

[Luiglin]

The Dancers

Gracefully they dance. Soft beams of light made solid. Twisting and writhing in spectacular silence.

Upon the twilight mound of the village green they cavort, eternally unaware of their audience.

Believers call them sidhe; scientists study and postulate about charged particles, magnetic fields, unusual sun spot activity.

All that Frank, landlord of the Green Man Inn, knew was that they were good for business.

[The Spurring Platty]

.

Spoken To

For hunting the hart the king could have his head.
The village might banish him for going this far into the forbidden forest.
But peasants do what they must to survive.

Silently he nocked an arrow and drew his bow tight.
To his amazement the hart stared back and said, “What led you here?”


The arrow’s fletching spoke a feathery whisper in his ear, “Put me away or let your family go hungry.”


…

[Parson]

Thou Shalt Not Steal

“Oh, James.” The willing beauty moaned.

Unexpectedly the book spell played out. James fell back into the mundane, aroused and frustrated. A fortnight was needed with his uncooperative girlfriend to recharge.

His other option? Steal the power.

Luck! Lady Charlene had enough and was daydreaming. He attacked.

Yes! He hurriedly spewed out the spell to avoid her counterattack.

Wrong words! Wrong book! He was Cesar. It was the Ides of March.

Pain, then death.

[Culhwch]

Make-Believe Wings

An odd shiver along my spine as she runs into my study, giggling.

‘Daddy!’

‘Hi, hon.’ I look up from the screen, rub bleary eyes. ‘You’re home from school early. Where’s Mummy?’

‘I’m not home, silly.’ She crashes into me, throws pudgy arms around my neck. Cold arms. Another shiver.

‘Where did you get these make-believe wings? I’ve never seen them before.’

‘They’re not make-believe.’ She smiles. ‘Love you, Daddy.’

The phone rings.

[The Judge]

Face Value


“We’ll let you know.”

Another job interview failed.

*

“I need a new face. Intelligent, handsome, twenty years younger.”

The salesman opened the catalogue. Faces paraded round the room.

“That one.”

“Our premier model, sir. Somewhat expensive.”

“My credit’s good.” For two months. After that... He’d get by.

*

“Can you start tomorrow?”

*

He was in conference when it happened. One secretary fainted, another had hysterics; the CEO vomited.

His face, like his credit, unexpectedly ran out.

[Ursa major]

Lifting One’s Spirits


Elevators? Hate them. I’m claustrophobic: trapped in a cupboard at age eight. But septuagenarians, stairs and tower blocks don’t mix, so I’m stuck in here.

Got company, though: ‘our’ song. Thinking of Evelyn brings tears, but the music keeps me calm. Seems failed elevators and muzak do mix.

*

“Thanks for getting me out. And the music. What made you choose that melody?”

The janitor looks puzzled. “The residents banned the canned music last year.”