Wednesday, August 08, 2007



Saturday, August 04, 2007


The Great Mini-Saga Face-Off

The hidden message in my last post, which none of you halfwits managed to decipher without considerable prompting, was that I'm buggering off for a few months. I did, however, promise to post your Mini-Saga contributions, and so, before I disappear, here they are. Seven fine examples of the art, I'm sure you'll agree; but who wrote them?

I was going to make this a multiple-choice sort of exercise but that would be far too easy. So: there are at least three but no more than seven (obviously) authors represented below. Who are they? And which story is by whom? Answers in a comment or an email, please, and I'll hold you up to adulation or ridicule in due course. Oh, and anyone may take a stab, even if you've contributed yourself and can therefore identify your own authorship with accuracy (well, one would hope so).

Also, don't blame me for the dark tone of these tales. I never said they had to be about domestic violence, assassination, creepy Santas and so on. I reflect reality, I don't influence it.

Stray Cat

Mother watched daughter lovingly though the kitchen window. The girl shuffled along and waited, allowing the tabby to get closer. When the cat paused for too long, the girl offered an invisible treat. They entered the kitchen together and gazed into mother's eyes longingly.

'Mommy,' she said. 'I gots dinner.'

The Sacrifice

He braced himself against an outcrop. Her wrist slipped further from his grasp.

‘Let me go,’ she gasped. ‘Save yourself.’

Imagine her life without me: evenings curled on the settee, tea and tears and indifferent cat for company, my photograph on the mantelpiece...

Eyes brimming compassionately, he released his grip.

God's Wrath

"Armageddon!" he gurgled, on his knees vomiting blood. Green bile streamed from his ears. Ten feet away a young woman exploded sending bits of flesh, bone and gore flying. A small boy doubled over and projected gallons of fecal matter everywhere.

I couldn't believe this. These were my new shoes!

Bad News

She wasn't sure how to put it. David was an old friend but he wasn't acting as a man in his elevated position ought. She'd have to wing it, run on autopilot. Biting her lip she left the cockpit.

How do you tell a flight attendant you think he's straight?

Sweets for the Sweet

'Hurry up and get in here, you miserable old whore,' the mad bastard with no taste buds shouted. 'And bring some of those extra large Tootsie Rolls, too.'

'I’ll be there in just a minute, dear,' she replied, gingerly touching her black eye. 'Just need to scoop the litter box.'

Father Christmas

He rested his bag between tree and chimney, took a cookie, and quietly walked to the boy's room. Finishing the treat, he smiled at the sleeping child. This was a good boy. He would say nothing. The reindeer and deliveries could wait.

He dropped his pants and climbed into bed.

Decision Time

Rodriguez’s head was in the crosshairs. I remembered my briefing. They said he’d massacred civilians. He looked young. Probably had a wife, couple of kids. They couldn’t be wrong, though. Couldn’t have made a mistake. They’d done their homework. Still, what if -

I bit my lip, squeezed the trigger.

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