Sunday, October 11, 2015

Trick? Or Treat?

“I don’t know, Pete.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Isn’t this your place?”

“Well, yeah, but I haven’t lived here in 5 months and none of this looks familiar!”

“Should we call the cops?”

“Let’s look around a minute first.” There was a hanging lampshade, no lamp. Blood on the floor under the lampshade where the table used to be. I couldn’t see the table anywhere. Most of my things were gone. In their places were used, partially crushed or dirty boxes. I took a closer look. The boxes were dirty, but it was blood splatter. I withdrew my hand before I could touch it. 

I walked into the bedroom. The mattress was against the wall, box springs gone. I didn’t even have a frame. The bedside table was there along with some trash. It looked like someone had been squatting here. My hair stood on end. I had the sensation of seeing a ghost, but there was nothing there. My sofa was gone, no pictures hung on the walls, my winter clothes weren’t in the closet. Yet there was no sign anything really happened aside from the blood and the lampshade and the missing items.

I pulled the mattress away from the wall expecting a dead body behind and an awful mess on the bed but nothing was there. Nothing. I retraced my steps to the front door and looked at the number on it. Odd. The number was 19, but the 9 had slipped upside down and it read 16.

“Pete!” I hollered back into the apartment. He came out onto the landing with me. I pointed at the number. He looked at me and shrugged. I closed the door firmly, turned the 6 into a 9 guiding the small nail into the old hole. I left my hand on the doorknob for a moment, head down, concentrating on my last vision of my apartment then opened the door. Everything was there, just as I had left it. No boxes, no blood, no missing furniture. I turned to Pete and the smile on my face disappeared. He was gone too.

Friday, February 13, 2015

Wings and Things

Prompt: Wings, 13 minutes on the clock. Here's what I came up with:

Seamus saw blood. It was dark and sticky and it covered the feathers on the back porch. He stooped to pick up a discarded wing, unfolding the feathers and holding them up to the light. It was nice to know they would have meat tonight, but he hoped Shanna didn't make it into stew. She made everything into stew – even the tender brace of bunnies he'd snared two nights before. Stews stretched their meager supplies, though. He couldn't argue with that. 
He dropped the wing carelessly, not bothering to watch it flutter to the ground, lifeless. He pushed open the door while shrugging off his canvas bag. It was empty of food, so he carefully placed the 6 shells he had for his shotgun in it before hanging it on the nail on the hall wall. He heard laughter, tinkling and bright. It shot a smile to his lips before he could even acknowledge Tany was here. Tany was hilarious! She was also cute and a great hunter. He walked into the mud room, pulling off his tattered gloves. 
He stepped into the living area, feeling the blush of the heat from the fire roaring in the pit. He looked around the room at faces he had come to love in the past 6 weeks. It was amazing how they were sworn enemies back then, but now they had come together as survivors. Petty disagreements and land ownership were things of the past. Nothing mattered but getting through each day alive. There were so many empty chairs already. The thought tightened his smile, and the light went out of his eyes. Sweeping a glance across the group, landing a moment on Tany brought it back. 
Their eyes met briefly, and he saw her spirit buoyed as well by that brief contact. He dipped his head and eyes in case she could read his desire. He didn't want to be obvious – there were no guarantees and this wasn't the time or place to be thinking of starting a family. It wasn't just the fire that tinted his cheeks red.

Hope you have a great weekend - thanks for stopping by!

Thursday, February 5, 2015

What's a Little Ice Cream Among Friends?


Rusty and Dolf collapsed into a giggling pile after leading Mone and her friends on a tag team trip through the closed factory. They loved playing in the factory because there were dark nooks and crannies everywhere, and it was rather spooky at night.

“Dolf, did you see how high Mone jumped when you stood up out of the pile of metal bands? I thought for sure she was going to spew ink at you. Gretch went completely blue, too.” Rusty collapsed again in a heap. If someone were watching them they would have thought he was having seizures. Dolf giggled, his numerous rolls of flab undulating like waves on the ocean.

“It’s a good thing there aren't humans around at night.” Dolf opened a bag of snacks and handed his friend a sack of crispy fried worms while he selected salted palmetto bugs for himself. He loved the delicious way they crunched but still had gooey centers. He swigged some eyeball ale to wash it down. “Ah… that hits the spot!”

“The night’s still young. Come on - lets go up on that conveyor way up high and see where it leads. We’ve not explored in quite some time.”

“I don’t know, it’s getting pretty late.” Dolf checked his moonmeter. It was two peeks before sunrise. “Well, if we just keep it short. I can’t be late again, though.”

Stuffing their snacks in the bag, they made their way over to the elevator. It clanked and groaned, but still faithfully made it to the top floor. Scaffolding with some maintenance panels comprised the bulk of the floor, offering a bird’s eye view of the machinery below. They walked along the metal grate floor, looking down at various vats and blending chutes. The scaffolding swayed with their weight and groaned loudly.

“Rusty, we need to go back.”

“Are you scared, Dolf?”

“No. I just don’t want to explain a fall to Mom, and I don’t want to leave evidence we were here for the humans. You know we have to be careful.”

“I know, I know. Just walk to the end. I want to look out over the place from that end platform.”

Dolf gave him a stern look. Then softened and said, “I hope you appreciate what a good friend I am and tell everyone when I die.” They both half giggled and turned to continue walking out. Reaching the platform, they could survey the entire plant. The soft whirring sound of different blending machines and cold processes echoed on the metal roofing. They knew this plant churned out gobs of ice cream for the humans. They didn’t understand what humans liked about this confection. It seemed gross to them.

“Hey, look down there.” Rusty tapped Dolf on the shoulder while leaning out over the guard rail.

“Be careful, man, you’re gonna fall!”

“Just look - lean a little farther. Is that Mone’s jacket? We have to get it for heeerrrr!!” The guardrail broke, sending Rusty tumbling into a pile of cardboard tubs on the line to be filled with ice cream. Dolf stumbled and pitched over the edge, dropping his sack of treats in an effort to grab the nearest scaffolding segment. They would never live this one down.



Have a great week, and thanks for stopping to check out this week's story!


~Chade

Friday, January 16, 2015

Welcome!

Hello my friends! Welcome to my blog. I'm an author, not yet published. I enjoy the process of writing, and I write a lot that doesn't turn into a novel. I'm sharing my writings with you here, and hopefully, one day, this tiny pet dream of mine will grow into a published novel! Exciting! I thought today I'd share with you a little sample of a my writing.
They had nothing to say to each other. They sat in silence, one in the sunny front window, the other in a shaft of twilight in front of the door. It had been a rough day, and they had gotten snipish with each other. He thought about how exhausted he was after chasing other cats out of the yard, bullying a dog who didn’t get the concept of boundaries, and finding suitable lizards for a romantic dinner. The lizards were great, and still warm. He found a little cat mint for dessert, but she took exception that his piece was a little bit bigger. He reacted immediately before he had a chance to taste his words. That was a bad decision. 
He thought about her day. She had been clearing cobwebs. She kneaded their bed. She made sure the human put out their food, fresh from the bag. She was a good partner always looking out for them both. She had kittens before they met. He knew she missed them. It wasn’t their nature to live with their children, but they didn’t even have a chance to smell their marks. They had been moved far away from her. Some days that was harder on her than others. He wondered if this was one of them. He glanced at her perch in the window. Her back was still stiff, so there wouldn’t be a chance to make it up to her for a little while yet. 
She gazed out over the lawn. It was almost fall now. The day was coming when he would spend more time in the house than out of it. That meant their live food would be cut short. She bristled. She didn’t understand why she felt so terse. It was so unlike her. It wasn’t the kids, although this was the season they were born what now seemed a lifetime ago. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Just a general unease, a little sense of foreboding, like something she loved was ending, something was just wrong. She still loved him. He was a good provider, a great help-­meet. He wasn’t selfish at all, yet she got mad that his piece of cat mint was larger than hers. But that wasn’t it. It was just something that pushed her into a chance outburst. It soured the whole day. She would make it up to him. She would give him extra grooming, snuggle in closer, purr a little more tenderly. It would be ok.



I hope you like this little bit. Have a great day!

~shhChade