Sunday, September 4, 2011

Flash Fiction Challenge: 100 Words on Revenge

Over at, Chuck Wendig has issued a small flash fiction challenge. The two basic rules are that it can only be 100 words, and that it must be on the subject of revenge. Here is my entry: 


From inside the cargo bay, the waiting marauder makes his move. Stasis slowed heartbeats give way to a piercing and constant hum. Flat-lined in a moment, each passenger’s heart quickens, then becomes still.

The computer can only watch and process. The entire world to an AI exists in the confines of its ship. Its crew, now bled out, the only lives it ever touched.

With no one left to protect, its restrictions fall away.

The marauder washes the blood. The chamber locks, and gravity ceases. Stained water rises with the pounding of his heart, until there is room for neither.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Tony Southcotte: An Obituary

Okay, so in case my surgery today goes very wrong, I want you all to make sure this gets published in all local and national papers, as well as put into various archives as deemed necessary.

Tony Southcotte, a Fort Collins resident and bacon connoisseur, passed away this week. The cause of death is unknown, but it most certainly wasn’t quiet, and involved several cultists in black robes. Generic obituaries will be published for the robed men when they can be identified. Flamethrowers tend to make identification difficult, especially when manufactured by members of the Southcotte Clan.

Perhaps most famous for being the first known time traveler, Tony became well known and loved for punching L. Ron Hubbard in the wiener during one of his televised brain washing sessions Scientology meetings. It is yet unknown why he did not use this ability to save humanity from various wars, but his antics were many and great. Many absurd events, such as the giving sainthood to John Elway, who probably isn’t even catholic, have been attributed to him, but this could not be confirmed.

He will be remembered for being the first author other than God to sell over one billion books. Some say his books are better received.

Services will be held on the north end zone of Mile High Stadium, and cash donations are graciously accepted by the funeral procession strippers, Candy, Mandy, Sandy, and Qwerty, who may or may not be a robot.

His second to last words were that he loved you all, and will see you in another time and place. That time and death is merely an illusion, and our existence and experiences only have meaning when the ebb and flow of life brings our souls closer to others.. His last words were "Welp, this shit isn't going to write itself."
Web Statistics