#Fridayfictioneers: Black House

PHOTO PROMPT – © ceayr

“Doesn’t that mean ‘Black House’?”

“Probably.”

“It’s beige.”

“Maybe it means the mold,” Pierce said, kicking a rock.  “I don’t know who named it.  How long we gonna wait here?”

“Until he comes out,” Karen said.  “Dude has my lighter. I want it back.”

“You serious?” Pierce said.  “We’re stalking a celebrity over a lighter.”

“That and he’s gonna marry me,” she said.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. We’re leaving.” He grabbed her hand.

The knife came out, pointed at his crotch.

“‘Kay.” He backed off.  “We wait.”

Hopefully the gendarmerie had taken his call seriously. She got like this sometimes.

Word Count: 99


Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog hop hosted by Rochelle. She posts a photo prompt then challenges readers to write a 100 word story inspired by the prompt. It’s a fun challenge. Give it a try! Check here for the info then write your story and post it, link up and enjoy the other stories!

#WeekendCoffeeShare: Pop Culture Edition

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If we were having coffee, I’d likely be humming a Bob Marley song to myself, or possibly Pon de Replay, which, okay, I recognize that Rihanna isn’t Jamaican but I can’t help what my brain does.  I just finished– as in literally ten minutes ago– Man Booker Prize winner A Brief History of Seven Killings, by Marlon James, a 700-page book containing far more than seven killings.

Probably 2/3 of the book is in Jamaican patois, which means that if I get through the entire conversation without the word bumbacloth or, God forbid, pussyhole falling out of my mouth, you should consider yourself lucky.  I’ve read more Jamaican profanity in the last four or five days than I will encounter in the entire rest of my life, and it’s sorta infected my brain.

Feel free to ask me if I liked it; I’ll trail off after a few seconds and change the subject.  I understand why it won the Booker Prize, but I don’t think I liked reading it at all. So… three stars?  Four?  Fuckit, I dunno.

But, yeah, let’s talk about movies and TV and stuff.  I still haven’t seen Force Awakens a second time yet, and I want to, and the trailer for Suicide Squad that just came out made me all sorts of excited about that, which surprises me.  Deadpool is going to be awesome.  And then there’s that maybe-sequel to Cloverfield, a movie I unapologetically love the hell out of, so I’m all excited about seeing that too.

TV?  You should be watching The Expanse, although if you’re like me you’re watching it with the closed captions on because half the time people are talking through masks, half the time they have thick accents, and oh, speaking of patois, half the time they’re not speaking English.  Yes, I know that’s three halves; I’ll sketch the Venn diagram out for you on a napkin if you don’t get it.  Point is, the sound mixing could be a lot better.  We watched the first episode of The Shannara Chronicles last night and I only got through it by mocking the hell out of everything I saw; the show appears to be unredeemably terrible unless making fun of it proves to have more legs than I thought.  Flash and Supergirl both remain better than they have any right to be.  One of these days I’ll get into Arrow.

What good comic books are you reading?  You should be reading Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur and I enjoyed the Captain Marvel relaunch that just started.  I’m working through the Jessica Jones trades.  And Clean Room is insane and depraved and you should check that out too.  Unfollow looks like it might have potential.

But for right now, I need to read something that’s going to drive all this r’asscloth patois out of my brain; I just don’t know what that is.  You, for your part, should go read Searching for Malumba, because it’s free today and tomorrow.

Man, I need a nap.

#Fridayfictioneers: The Estate

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan W. Fields
PHOTO PROMPT © Jan W. Fields

“Is that a harpsichord?”

“Nah, it’s an old piano.  Don’t touch it.”  Joe pointed at the DO NOT TOUCH sign displayed above the keys.

Ed looked closely.  The piano was carefully dusted, but one key had some extra wear on it.  He hit it a few times.  Nothing happened.

“Do not touch that,” the butler commanded.  “That piece is not part of the auction.”

“Whatever you say, Al,” Ed said, tapping the broken key a few more times just for giggles.

Elsewhere in the mansion, unnoticed by anyone, the door to the cave silently slid open.

Word Count: 95


Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog hop hosted by Rochelle. She posts a photo prompt then challenges readers to write a 100 word story inspired by the prompt. It’s a fun challenge. Give it a try! Check here for the info then write your story and post it, link up and enjoy the other stories!

#Weekendcoffeeshare: Blood Pressure edition

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If we were having coffee, I’d for damn sure be having tea or juice this time.  I had a day earlier this week where I was so tired and half-dead that I made a pot of coffee at 11 AM– a full two hours after I’m usually done with coffee for the day– and drank the entire thing myself.  You may recall a recent coffee chat we had where I showed you my new Walking Dead mug.  One of the things I’ve done a lot of this weekend is home improvement tasks; I hung a new mirror in the bathroom yesterday and we went to my parents’ today and tore out the old toilet and installed a new one.  My wife and I were greeted with those two monstrosities above.  The coffee cup on the right is a reasonable person’s coffee cup.  I can fit two full Walking Dead cups into each of those ridiculous bastards.  They aren’t for coffee.  That’s, like, a pot each.  They have to be for, like, soup or something.

I wouldn’t have a whole lot to talk about, actually; a not-infrequent theme of these posts and the natural consequence of writing about my nonsense life every single day on the blog anyway.  I somehow still have not sold an ebook in January, and that issue might come up, because it’s starting to get to me.  I did sell one book in print, and I picked up a really nice review of Searching for Malumba today (check the previous post) but I have sold a total of three ebooks on Amazon in the last month, a drought of nearly-unprecedented nature.  Please, for the love of God, if you ever read ebooks and have $5 to spare, check something out.  My confidence is starting to take a hit here.  🙂

Let’s see.  Writing on Sunlight has gone well, although I’ve officially reached the part in the outline where it just goes ??? DRAMA ACTION SCARY STUFF MYSTERY ??? MAYBE A HAMSTER ??? and part of me feels like I’m closer to the end than I really want to be.  I wrote 1100 words of something today, unrelated to anything else I’ve done, that popped into my head whole and complete while I was taking a shower and came with such intensity that I rushed through shaving my head so that I didn’t lose anything and ended up cutting the shit out of my scalp.

You would have noticed the Band-Aid already, and so that part might actually come up first.  But seriously: I wrote 1100 words of fiction during the time it took my wife to take a shower.  If you know anything about my process, you know how ridiculously, insanely fast that is.  I don’t know what this thing is yet; I mean, it’s a short story, but I sort of feel like it’s a proof-of-concept for something bigger.  You’ll probably hear more about it later.

Maybe I’ll get called for a job interview this week.  That would be nice.

How’re you?

#Fridayfictioneers: Memories

PHOTO PROMPT © Amy Reese
PHOTO PROMPT © Amy Reese

“It was right here, I’m telling you.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this, we’re gonna get in trouble–”

“Shut up,” she said tenderly, and drew him in for a kiss.  “The school closed two decades ago.  Nobody’s watching.  We had a way bigger chance of getting caught the first time.”

“The first time the punishment wouldn’t have been jail,” he said.  “Or, like, our kids finding out.”

“They’ll think it’s cool,” she said.  “I remember you talking me into this last time.  Now c’mere.  Remind me why it worked.”

They embraced, the leaves skittering on the stairs the only sound.

Word Count: 100


Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog hop hosted by Rochelle. She posts a photo prompt then challenges readers to write a 100 word story inspired by the prompt. It’s a fun challenge. Give it a try! Check here for the info then write your story and post it, link up and enjoy the other stories!

#Weekendcoffeeshare: not really edition

weekend-coffee-shareIf we were having coffee… that would be really odd, actually, because what I’m supposed to be doing right now is getting ready to head up to Michigan for– wait for it– a baptism.  The religious ritual is secondary to finally meeting my new baby semicousin, but y’know.  I’ll take what I can get.

We’re doing the back-and-forth in one day and with a four-year-old, so, uh, I probably won’t be around much today.  Benevolence Archives is still free, though!

#Fridayfictioneers: Resolution

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PHOTO PROMPT © Melanie Greenwood

It was a perfect day.  The sky the deepest blue it could be, cloudless, the sun warming the tarmac just enough to make the day pleasant and not chilly.

I looked at Morgan.  I’d named her after my one-and-only; I’d lost her namesake a few years back, but I still had the jet.  Hadn’t flown in a while.  Wouldn’t again, after today.

There was probably a cure, somewhere. I didn’t need it.  I needed to fly again, before they said I couldn’t.  And when I decided it was time…

…well, the Pacific was right there.

Word Count: 95


Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog hop hosted by Rochelle. She posts a photo prompt then challenges readers to write a 100 word story inspired by the prompt. It’s a fun challenge. Give it a try! Check here for the info then write your story and post it, link up and enjoy the other stories!

#Weekendcoffeeshare: 2016 edition

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If we were having coffee, we’d be talking about the same thing everybody else is talking about: it’s 2016!  What have you been doing with your life for the last couple of weeks?  What do you want to do with your life next year?

I’m not super interested right now in looking back at 2015.  I blogged every single day last year, most days more than once; feel free to start with January 1 and work your way through.  The year had high points and low points much like any other and was, I think, on balance more high than low despite the chaos of the last few months while I’ve been on medical leave.

I don’t do resolutions.  Resolutions happen in January and are abandoned by February.  However, if you ask me what my current goals are in life and I don’t have any, it means I’m probably deeply depressed.  I always have a couple of goals that I’m working on; right now is no exception.  Most of them are related to my writing and I’ve already discussed.  The rest, right now, are job-related.

I want a new job.  Preferably soon.  Real soon.  I’ve put a hold on stressing out about it over the holidays; there was no point, as the holidays are a deeply bad time to be unemployed.  You have to be unemployed through the whole several weeks; all the folks with job openings, on the other hand, are looking at piles of resumes and going “Yeah, we’ll deal with that when we get back.”

(The exception that proves the rule: my brother recently moved to Illinois to be with his fiancee, and has had some trouble finding work too.  He had a series of interviews last week in rapid succession, and when the third interview in three days was “go downtown, talk to this person, and then do the paperwork for your background check” I told him he had the job and to not worry about it.  Why?  Because they pulled in teachers over winter break to interview him, and they did three interviews in three days, and that means they’re in a huge damn hurry to get the job filled.  I was right.  Most of the jobs I’m applying for are not jobs that are going to lead to death or dishonor if they’re not filled this week.)

Well, at any rate, tomorrow’s Monday, so everybody will be back.  My suspicion is that every office on Earth will start with a horrible three-hour meeting and then 80% of the people at work will spend the rest of the day looking around their desks, bleary-eyed, and trying to remember their passwords, and that therefore the earliest any “Hey, come interview with us!” phone calls could possibly happen will be Tuesday.

I am desperately hoping to get a phone call on Tuesday, especially for one particular job that I applied for the week of Thanksgiving and was explicitly told not to hold my breath about until after New Year’s.  We’ll see, I guess.

At any rate, I’m going insane over here and I need a new job.  So that’s goal one, even before any writing stuff happens: get a damn job.

I kinda feel like that’s enough for right now.  How about you?  What are you working on right now?