Month: March 2016

Toypocalypse [Flash Fiction]

The humans are gone. The old world died with the Arrival. What the Arrival was remains unclear. What it did, however, was destroy human life. But it also brought with it a new type of life. Toys the world over came to life in the decay. Speak and Say sages often call it Unlife. The strongest and smartest toys rise to try rule the world. Teddy bear pirates and transforming robot overlords. Army Men become battlefield pawns. Chess pawns become elite soldiers. Plastic motors come to life, somehow, through the power of the Arrival. Barbie and her minions build a glittering, twisted empire in the ruins of Malibu. Toy factories become hallowed ground. No strife is allowed to touch them. Tin horses run across lawns like they are wild plains. No toy is safe from its peers or the leftover beasts roaming wild. House pets turned toy hunters. This is Toypocalypse.

“The image from class was of a playground scene laid out in model scale. It reminded me of a roleplaying game I recently downloaded from RPGNow.com called Toypocalypse.” -RPB

The Rot [Flash Fiction]

The smell starts as a whisper that your nose barely hears. It grows slowly into a din that tugs at your nostrils. Smell without form. You check for the source, but you cannot find it. The smell turns into a cacophony of putrid torture that singes your nose hairs. You have to find it! It’s not your imagination!

The kitchen is overturned, yet it still mocks you with its horrid ring of stench. Then, you find it.

How the hell did it get behind the fridge?

Neighbours [Flash Fiction]

He is on the left. She is on the right. He is late at night. She is early in the morning. Night hawk and morning dove fly by each other in the hallway. Ears and faces red. Biting lips. Excitement of what could be new? He is tall and broad-shouldered. She is petite and plump. Laundry room shuffle on Saturdays. He loves his piano. She loves her punk. Oil and water? Both love a roaring fire and a cup of coffee. Two sugars, no milk. The doors open in unison. Eyes lock.

“This is based on an image provided by during tonight’s writing class at the City Arts Centre. It was of an empty hallway in an apartment building. The hallway ends with two door sitting right next to each other at an irregular angle.” -RPB

Heard in the Wood

“Here come the humans again,” growls Tiger. “More trees are going to be cut down.”

“We have to do something,” hoots Owl. “My home is in danger. They have marked my tree for death.”

“We should attack them,” chortles Gopher.

“The last time we tried that, the humans came back with their guns. They shot Rabbit,” rumbles Bear.

“We could do something like the other smelly humans did several moons ago,” squeals Pig.

“You mean bind ourselves together like they did to block the cutters,” growls Tiger. “That might get their attention.”

“Bind ourselves with what?” Gopher points out.

“Vines and roots might work,” hoots Owl.

“Yes, that will have to do,” growls Tiger.

“But the cutters carried away the smelly humans when they got in their way,” rumbles Bear. “They’ll do that to us too. Or they’ll just shoot us.”

“We have to try, Bear,” squeals Pig. “Owl is going to lose his home.”

“It’s too dangerous,” rumbles Bear.

“I don’t want to get shot either,” Gopher chortles. “But we can’t do nothing.”

“But-”

“Enough talk, Bear,” growls Tiger. “We stand against the humans or we loose more acres of the wood. Besides, what other choice do we have?”

Untitled

Mich’s head felt like  swivel that had cracked. His eyes were lead weights and his nose was a cannon of mucus. His ears couldn’t hear anything but the ringing that was coming either from somewhere, elsewhere, or in his own head. He knew it was morning as sunlight crept into his dorm room to dim his desk lamp. He felt the need to click it off, but he only had enough energy to turn pages in his physics textbook. His mind tried to make sense of each phrase, definition, formula, etc. It was failing him.

Mich looked at his bed with longing. The sheets and pillows called to him like a forbidden harem. But sleep would not be his until, after. The exam was at 9:00 A.M., sharp! He could hear his professor’s words drilling into his wracked brain. Mich rechecked the time for what felt like the thousandth time. He nearly bolted out of his chair when he mistook the ‘7’ in 7:16 A.M. for a ‘9’. The wave of adrenaline sent his mind racing through books and notes and dozens of stickies looking for that one formula that always confounded him. After the wave, he nodded off.

Mich woke with a start and nearly knocked the alarm clock on the floor. 8:02 A.M. Shit, he’d lost nearly an hour! He drank down the half-cup of cold coffee sitting on his side table and followed it up with two Cokes, a Redbull, and a Mars bar. He gathered up the few things he knew he’d be allowed for the exam, which wasn’t much, and cracked open the tomb that was his dorm room.

The light hurt every inch of Mich’s face and the stink of weed in the hallway immediately made him ravenous. His whole body shook with hunger. He babbled like an old insane wizard, as he hobbled down the hallway on unsteady legs, then down the creaking steps of the old dormitory, and out into the cold, crisp air and blinding light of day. He nearly puked but swallowed it down.

He immediately regretted the decision.

Epilogue

Hours had seemed like days and the next thing Mich knew it was midday. The only way he knew this was the blinding light shining down on him from the sun high in the sky. He’d taken the exam, right? Yes, he remembered being there. He couldn’t remember how he’d fared.

Mich coughed. he was cold and hungry. He could smell his own vomit on his breath. One exam down. Five more to go.