Monthly Archives: March 2015
30
Mar '15

Drabble: Sally Sparks (Superhero Origin Stories) – by JB Starre

by specklit

Sally and I met back in ’04, when the bank I worked at was being robbed and she came to our rescue. She fried the robbers just enough to render them immobile until the cops arrived, and then she reached out a hand to help me out from under my desk.

Sure, that shock I felt when our hands met might have been residual charge, but I knew then that I had to see her again.

It took me six dates to earn her real name. We married in ’09. Even now, when we kiss, I feel that familiar spark.

Author’s Note: I wonder if Sally has to deal with static shocks in the winter like the rest of us do. You think dryer sheets do anything for her?

Categories: Fiction, JB Starre | 2 Comments »

28
Mar '15

Drabble: Shoulder Angel, Shoulder Demon – by Emily Martha Sorensen

by specklit

I wish they’d never invented Morality Day.

“Go apologize to Helen,” my shoulder angel insisted, poking my cheek.

“Go TP her house,” my shoulder demon grinned, twisting my earlobe.

“Leave her a plate of cookies,” the angel added, tugging my hair.

“Smash a carton of eggs on her door,” the demon smirked, kicking my collarbone.

“STOP IT!” I shouted, hurling them away. “I hate both of you!”

I stormed off, and for one blissful moment, I had peace. Then…

“I think you should apologize to me,” the angel sniffed.

“I think you should kick her off again,” the demon grinned.

Author’s Note: What if you literally had to deal with shoulder angels and demons once a year, every year? I think it would be very annoying.

Categories: Emily Martha Sorensen, Fiction | No Comments »

26
Mar '15

Drabble: Test of a Knight – by Samantha Lienhard

by specklit

No one doubted he passed the Test of Strength. The same went for the Test of Courage, which he didn’t even flinch at.

But when it came to his performance on the third test of knighthood, there was some confusion.

“With all due respect, sir,” he said to his superior, “I passed the Test of Compassion. I helped everyone.”

“You also terrified them with your scowl.” The older knight leaned forward. “It wouldn’t hurt to smile once in a while. Why don’t you try it right now?”

“Sir… I am smiling.”

After a long silence, the knight conceded the point.

Author’s Note: After working on a story with a protagonist who never smiles, I wanted to write a lighter take where the character looks so serious no one realizes when he’s smiling.

Categories: Fiction, Samantha Lienhard | No Comments »

24
Mar '15

Drabble: Life of Luxury – by Sylvia Heike

by specklit

Day after day, fair maidens flocked to the unicorn, pouches full of oats and juicy carrots. They brushed him from head to hoof, combed and braided his mane. But he wouldn’t let anyone near his silvery horn.

One night, strange noises woke the unicorn. A rope looped around his horn.

“You are no maiden,” the unicorn cried out. “Your arms are hairy, your dress ill-fitting.”

“Your horn is mine,” the intruder’s coarse voice sounded. A serrated blade flashed in the moonlight.

“Fine, keep it!” The false horn fell into the thief’s greedy hands as the horse pulled free and ran.

Author’s Note: What if a unicorn was just a horse in disguise?

Categories: Fiction, Sylvia Heike | No Comments »

22
Mar '15

Drabble: Wet Paint – by Sierra July

by specklit

When Sadie felt cold, she could paint her nails. Red polish made her hot and with polish remover and a coat of blue, she could cool down again. Various brands had the same results, with no effect on her sister, so Sadie figured it was her.

She tried yellow and felt happy, black and felt depressed. Glitter made her glow in and out. But there was one shade she hadn’t tried.

She plastered clear polish on and went invisible.

It was awesome, walking through walls, pulling chairs from under people, until she realized that remover couldn’t work on thin air.

Author’s Note: This story came from thinking what if nail polishes could change your mood by soaking through your cuticles and became something crazy when I thought of how colors are already shown to affect mood. I was greatly influenced by the Invisible Man.

Categories: Fiction, Sierra July | No Comments »

20
Mar '15

Drabble: Their Daily Eight Minutes – by Emily Martha Sorensen

by specklit

“I believe that what you do with your time-travel is your own business,” Ms. Atwin said, holding out a basket as she walked down the aisles. “But if you use it in my classroom, it’s considered cheating. So, hand over your cellphones, please.”

“As if I’m going to waste my daily eight minutes on tests,” Chet stage-whispered to his best friend.

“I barely even use mine,” Stanley shrugged, dropping his in.

“I already used mine so I wasn’t late,” Hannah sighed.

Ms. Atwin stopped and pulled an offending phone from the basket. “And no counterfeits from tomorrow, either!” she shouted.

Author’s Note: I see this as a future where everyone has an app on their cellphone to allow them eight minutes of time-travel every day. To have more, you have to pay an expensive subscription fee.

Categories: Emily Martha Sorensen, Fiction | No Comments »

18
Mar '15

Drabble: Snake Eyes (Supervillain Origin Stories) – by JB Starre

by specklit

Yeah, Snake Eyes and I grew up together. He seemed like a normal kid back then, though.

I found out senior year that he could talk to snakes. A bunch of us were over at his place playing Halo, and Henry Watkins repeated a rumor about Snake’s girlfriend. Snake muttered under his breath, Henry started screaming, and all I can say is, it’s a good thing Snake’s pet pythons weren’t venomous.

Superpower? I don’t know about that. What’s he gonna do, contact every snake in the country and form some sort of snake militia?

Oh, wow. Seriously? The White House?

Author’s Note: Cue Indiana Jones quote: “Snakes. Why’d it have to be snakes?”

Categories: Fiction, JB Starre | No Comments »

16
Mar '15

Drabble: Summer Fun – by Michael Hudson

by specklit

Junie watched the crowd gather around the deep end, crowding the sides as lifeguards yelled for them to make room. She instinctively looked around for her mother’s bright orange hair, seeing the whole pool at once, though not concerning herself with why. Eventually, curiosity got the best of her. She looked down into the water beneath the twisted diving board, seeing the crimson waves ripple out from the tiny red-haired body. A flash of recognition struck, like looking into a mirror, followed by a headache and sudden cold. He mother cried hysterically as Junie watched and drifted slowly, silently away.

Author’s Note: This story came from a three-word prompt I got from a website and is the closest I’ll ever get to writing something dark.

Categories: Fiction, Michael Hudson | No Comments »

14
Mar '15

Drabble: Once in a Thousand Years – by Erin M. Hartshorn

by specklit

It could only have happened in the Year of the Festive Chicken. Everyone agreed about that.

A rooster with a giant purple tail falls plum out of the sky and lands without a scratch on City Hall? ‘Course, then he laid himself an egg, and wasn’t no way to explain that. Then there was the party and kids setting off fireworks and the building burning down — and the damned egg went and hatched in the fire!

No, nobody’s seen the rooster since, but if you don’t believe me, I’ve got me one of the feathers — I can prove it happened.

Author’s Note: My son was talking about a chicken in a new video game he was playing, and I misheard “year of the festive chicken.” I had to write a story about that, and somehow the festive chicken turned into a phoenix.

Categories: Erin M. Hartshorn, Fiction | 1 Comment »

12
Mar '15

Drabble: The Assassin’s Karma – by Emily Martha Sorensen

by specklit

“My schedule’s booked through November,” the assassin said. “I had a target in March.”

The client tried not to stare at the assassin’s obviously-pregnant belly. “Is that going to get in the way?” he hedged.

“What?” The assassin looked down. “Oh, this? No. I have a baby every time I kill somebody.”

The client laughed, thinking she was joking. “You must have killed a dozen people.”

“Fifteen.”

“So I’m sure you don’t —”

She reached into her wallet and casually tossed a picture on the table.

The client paused, aghast.

“Don’t you think it’s good karmic balance?” the assassin said cheerfully.

Author’s Note: I had the idea for an assassin with a really weird code of ethics: she never takes more people out of the world than she is willing to bring into it. It would be really weird to be one of her kids. I don’t think she tells them she is secretly an assassin.

Categories: Emily Martha Sorensen, Fiction | No Comments »

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