150 words

[DocHeart]

Let's write some stories limited to 150 words. What can you write in that?

I'll set the ball rolling.

================================================== =======

Married to the mob


"Who the devil are you?"

His British accent pisses me off. His fat, naked body, the sheet desperately trying to cover the folds of flab, disgusts me.

She, next to him, also naked, looks calm. I could almost swear she's enjoying it. I knew she would.

She also looks like you could suck her up with your lips ten centimeters away from her.

"Animal Control," I say, straight-faced. "Word has it you're keeping exotic birds in your little love nest, and without your wife's approval. Say cheese."

The flash takes him aback, his poor naked form is in my camera.

Later, I drink brandy with Cherry by the fireplace. I always liked that wordplay.

"Was it worth the one-liner?"

"Half a million."

"You're so ****ing brilliant I could marry you."

"Do give it some serious thought. I come with a pretty good dowery."

She kisses me.

================================================== =======

[Steven Hunley]

Tony had a legal script in his pocket the day we drove back from Torrance to apply for a section eight. "Hindu Kush" it said. We stopped at the park to roll a blunt. It was only three hits later when I looked down. A dead leaf, ragged orange and red, burnt and brown, laid on the grass. Long and twisted, one end larger than the other. I looked closer. It was a fire-breathing dragon. There was his head and his tale. I looked even closer. There were his wings, and there his claws. I looked again. There was his nose. It was covered with black soot. The dragon got bigger. Or was I getting smaller? I couldn't tell. It grabbed me and took me aloft, flying over Peshawar, then through the Khyber pass, into the mist filled Hindu Kush, where eventually, as all things do, we disappeared from view.

[DocHeart]

“Sandra left me.”

“What do you mean Sandra left you?”

“I mean she left me. For another guy.”

“For whom?”

“For whom? For the Prime Minister. I don't know. What's the matter with you? What does it matter for whom? For some writer.”

“For some writer?”

“This is how it's gonna go? I'm gonna say something and you gonna repeat it in question form? We only have 150 words. SANDRA LEFT ME FOR SOME WRITER!”

“I don't understand.”

“Your character is badly drawn and rather shallow. Let me tell it. I met Sandra two years ago in London, and we were going to get married. But she left me for some writer, and now we're here, you and me, in some bar, talking.”

“Do you think it's the guy writing us?”

“What?”

“The writer guy Sandra left you for, do you think it's the guy writing us?”

[Steven Hunley]

My compliments! And I thought I had an imagination! You're dialogue is true and natural.

[DanBierce]

Joe sat down for breakfast with last night's dream of flying clearly recollected and then the dream of climbing a rock of knowledge reoccurred and the dream of walking naked down a city street came along then the blurry dreams started to roll by.

It wasn't long until the fraction-of-a-second dreams flickered across his eyes mind between the completely out of character and morally outrageous dreams that caused him to wonder and worry.

The always fearful dreams of heights and crimes came through and then he placed the barrel in his mouth, and as the earth turned a little bit more the sun shined through the kitchen window onto Joe's blood and brains sprayed all over a wall and his bowl of Shredded Wheat.

[DanBierce]

Hee hee. Quite clever and funny, Doc! Great job!

[DanBierce]

I want some of what you're having, Steven. Heh. Enjoyed!

[The Walker]

wow, great story: Sandra left me. So fresh and new. Like it!

[Monamy]

A blind man was walking… walking where? Hard to tell; he was blind. He felt like walking since he didn't do any work-out for a couple of days; his body began to feel stiff. Suddenly, a gunfire parade rang in his ears. It was… what was it? Hard to tell; he's blind, remember? He suddenly felt someone grabbing his shoulder, pulling and pinning him to a wall. The fire shots continued, and the person holding the blind man was firing his gun in his turn as well…

"Are you alright, old man?"
"… w… what's…?"
"Just stay to the walls, you won't get shot here."

A policeman? Maybe, fighting against some thugs or the like. Suddenly, the old man stopped hearing gunshots, and a thud sound marked the fall of a body. And many others drew near him.

"He's dead, the hostage is safe. I repeat, the hostage is safe."

[DocHeart]

“Home-made jam from in-season fruit only: Aridaia Wild Cherry”

Can you resist? The jar found its way in my basket along with shaving foam, corned beef, pegs and condoms.

I tried to open it. Standing, sitting, gradually or suddenly straining, after cooling it with ice, after freezing it, after baking it.

Alas, for months on end the jar remained sealed, its flavour merely imagined, the slow, sinful consumption of pieces of cherry bathing in dark syrup just wishful thinking.

Yesterday she was trying with her slim hands. “If you do it, I’ll buy you a strap-on,” I said. A second later something cracked open, and a fruity smell filled my living room.

She smiled like one thousand smug little Satans. “Brown or white slice, Master?” And with the swinging posture of a winner, she dipped her finger deep inside the jar, and applied a large amount of sticky sweetness on her (already dark-crimson) lips.

[dizzydoll]

Collapsing onto the couch the phone almost slipped from my hand. In an instant I felt the dread gradually penetrate my soul once again.

"Please come visit Ren..."

"I can't Gavie, I can't watch you kill yourself anymore. You have no idea how my heart aches Gav. You can't see my point, I know"

"Please Ren, come down to the river"

"Gavin all of us have grown up, now its your turn! The hooch is killing you and quite frankly its getting scary. The last 2 times I visited you passed out, hit the floor like a rock and didnt come too for ages. Dammit Gavin I can't lift you, you're too heavy. And me, my heart goes into instant failure just thinking that you're about to die.!!! "

"Please Ren, we can relax and listen to John Haitt"

"Gavin have you even heard a word I've said?"

Silence.

"Gavin this sucks. I can see I'll have to leave town cos eventually its just gonna get too hard to handle this. "

I hear his cat meow in the background "You see, even Icy wants you to come. Please Ren...."

"Sheesh man Gav, I'll be there in 30."

...

Looking death in the face. This is a similar account of conversations I had with a very dear friend who did eventually drink himself to death.
And for all those lessons we dont learn this life, they just become our nemesis next time round.

[paradoxical]

I was only 12 years old when death came stalking and found a safe harbor in our little neighborhood below the overpass. I used to sit in my upstairs bedroom and watch the cars pass by on I-10. I would listen to the noise of diesel trucks and the steady hum of tires on the pavement. Do they think about us? Do they look down and wonder what it would be like to live here?

I saw the police cars from my window. A murder. The first but not the last. My parents tried to explain that some people are just bad. A week later, another shooting. Then, a triple homicide. Death staked its claim. Death now lurked around corners and cast shadows on the street. Why this neighborhood, that was once safe? Where families now stayed inside, with bars on the windows. What causes death to take hold?

[DocHeart]

“Honey, I think I just lost the frozen burger inside your tushy.”

“What do you mean? It went in?”

“I’m afraid so. Half of it got detached and it was kind of – well - sucked in.”

“Chris, for god’s sake!”

She swiftly makes her way to the bathroom. I follow her in the dim light, nude. My big toe hits the edge of the bedroom door.

“It’s alright sweetie, it’ll come out.”

“How is it going to come out? Frozen beef for god’s sake! You have any idea the number of microbes that are about to be released in my blood stream?”

She squeezes on the john, her abdominal muscles clenching deliciously with every push.

“Give me an enema.”

“Really?”

“Oh please. I don’t want to get poisoning. This isn’t one I’m going to enjoy.”

“Mind if I do?”

“Bastard.” She giggles, and hurls a toothbrush in my general direction.

[dizzydoll]

LOL

I just couldnt resist :icon_bs:

A Sherry Enema (http://crackdealer.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/sherry-enema2-238x300.jpg)

So funny...

[DanB]

"Why would you do that?". Such sadness in her eyes. Such beauty in her face.

"Do what?".

"Kill me. Why did you do it?". She looked cold. Her lips blue.

"I'm sorry. I haven't been myself recently". I look at my hands. Blood. I look in the mirror. It's not me. It's... darkness. Contorted and twisted, there are eyes that look back at me, dead.

I wake up. I look at her, sleeping peacefully. Such beauty in her face. I hold her tightly.

[DocHeart]

She focuses on the computer screen as if she might pounce on it any minute. On her lap an electronic drawing pad - the kind of gadget she’d rather do without, but who could these days. She touches it with the stylus, stroking, tickling, tapping it.

I try to get interested in my muted football match. I want her to be with me, but tomorrow’s deadline looms over her jungle of black hair, and tonight I’m patient and understanding.

“Come see,” she chirps. I walk behind her and hug her shoulders.

“I think I like it more than the previous one,” I say tentatively. “The blood seems more realistic somehow.”

She goes back to her work. She forgets that I’m still standing there.

I pour another drink and sprawl back on the sofa, struggling a little with the enormity of my love for her, my beautiful murder novel cover artist.

[a robot bit me]

There aren't many people at the bar - only me, a tired couple, the girl drinking the yellow drinks and the three young men across from us laughing genuinely. When they laugh, the girl drinking the yellow drinks laughs. It sounds like an echo.

"I laugh when other people laugh," she smiles at me and says. Then she turns back to the television and her smile goes away.

A Twins game from 1988 is on the television. The girl drinking the yellow drinks is staring at it. She only pulls away from it to laugh when the young men laugh.

The light comes on to remind everyone to drink one last time and it makes the young men tired. It is very hot inside, but the girl drinking the yellow drinks is shivering. It doesn't seem to bother her much.

[misterblok]

Passing

A blurred white light. That's all I remember seeing. My eyes were open, but unable to focus. Without practice. Covered in fluid. Red. Transparent. Noises, those I could hear, were muffled, spoken as though through a barrier. The smell, that of life, fresh and incomparable. I could feel as well. The firm contact of a gloved hand with my naked flesh. Nothing made any difference, it was too late already. My life was short, but it was still lived, even if it was just inside a dirty hospital room. I closed my eyes, never to open them again.

[DocHeart]

“Would you die for me, Tom? Just answer the question. Would you take a bullet for me?”

Tom looks away, smoking. Elsie has been on patrols with him on and off over the last three years. It should have been obvious to him sooner that she knows he knows.

“Yes. I would take a bullet for you.” If he was out of the way there would be nobody who would consider her a suspect.

“Oh, Tom,” she shakes her head. “I know you understand how much I love you. I did all this for you. So that you would notice me.”

She pushes the tip of the elegant revolver into her neck. She’s wearing a thin, gold necklace.

“Wait. Don’t do this. I love you too. We’ll run away.”

The crack of the small gun bounces off from skyscraper to skyscraper. After it has ceased, Manhattan sounds remarkably quiet.

[zoolane]

The Couple

Young yet faded light descending down the night sky. The grasses hills in distance beckon the sea to touch it. The stretched trees sway with evening air. A youthful couple look down upon the navy sea which storming into the white cliffs. The ruby lips crush against his with slip of snake tongue which is going for her tonsils. While his hands surf it way up to buttons and slow undone. His hand stroke her C cup breast and other hand is make sure that he does not lose balance. Her left is caked his left buttock with gentle but firm grip. Get right hand circles his right nipple and she raise her knee between his.

"Please darling, Can you blunt my pencil for me?" He whisper into her ear.
She open her mouth and "Yes I will blunt your pencil, only if you draw a picture for me".

[Bluehound]

Ooo racy Zoo :)

[Bluehound]

That old blue-tack has been on the wall for ages now. I know I should scrape it off, but that would mean admitting defeat, that would mean moving on.
I would rather be stubborn and believe that one day soon you are going to come back into my life and stick that sodding great map of Middle-earth back up there. I will grumble as you do it, but inside I will be screaming - Yes !

Or I could just get a chair and pick it off now, it might be satisfying. I could play with it then, roll it into a ball, a sausage, make a little man – and then squash him into a ball again. Ha!

But I won’t. I will just sit here waiting and playing computer games, glancing at a non existent map and wondering what you and your new friend are doing this Saturday night.

[fancy dancing]

Crouching, I reluctantly pulled my head under my dirt ridden arms in shame. Closing my eyes, I thought of the last time I had felt so much abhorrence for the world around me, which wasn’t long after I had almost been fired from my last employer. But this was different; it felt like it was going to stick to my soul, sucking out what little pleasure was pumping through my veins.

Lush green suddenly turned a dark, volatile shade that seemed to lunge out at me, mocking my very unhappiness.

I snapped my head up, having enough of my very being wallowing in such petty misery. Rivers were flowing from my eyes and I had no apparent reason for wanting to wither right then and there.

Without reason, I saw my former self standing brilliantly before me.

For Christ’s sake, my past self said, it was only a doomed plant.

[zoolane]

Ooo racy Zoo :)

Thank you Bluehound and Doc great idea for thread.