100 words

Day Fifty-Eight – “First Kill” (In For A Penny)

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forest“Remember—squeeze the trigger gently. Like I showed you.” Henry’s grip on the rifle faltered as he felt his father’s looming presence over his shoulder. The animal in front of him made an attempt to stand, but faltered as blood – thick, black, arterial – oozed from an existing bullet wound in its thigh and it crumpled to the ground again with a howl of pain.

The animal reached out towards him, silently pleading, and Henry swallowed against the bile at the back of his throat as he aimed between its eyes.

Please—!

The gunshot echoed through the trees – the animal let out a whimper, and fell still.

To find out more about In For A Penny, or for further entries, click here.

Day Forty – “Make Me A Sandwich” (In For A Penny)

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NB: So for some reason scheduled posts stopped working, meaning the last three entries didn’t post at all. Just gonna keep going as normal because now I have a three-day backlog. Here’s Monday’s.

“Get back in the kitchen and make me a sandwich,” he says.

I sigh exasperatedly, heading into the kitchen. I stand in front of the counter, palms upturned to the heavens, eyes pitch-black as I invoke the darkest magicks to help me with this task.

There is a strangled sound of alarm as he realises that he is suddenly smaller and more rectangular. His skin is shedding golden-brown crumbs, his tongue is now a slice of wafer-thin ham, and where he once had hair there is now a small handful of organic lettuce.

I have made him a sandwich.

For more information on “In For A Penny”, or for further entries, click here.

Day Thirty-Eight – “Dragon Breath” (In For A Penny)

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A great and terrible dragon was rampaging its way through the back garden of number 42 Pemberley Road.  It sent a pile of frost-covered leaves scattering as it reared its head, bared its teeth and roared, a cloud of smoke pluming from its mouth and lingering in the air. The dragon grinned, satisfied, as next door’s cat let out a wail of alarm and hopped off the fence.

The back door opened and a far larger beast stepped out into the cold. A cloud of grey dragons breath lingered around its head as it roared:

“Joseph, it’s time for dinner!”

To find out more about In For A Penny, or for further entries, click here.

Day Thirty-Six – “Mirror” (In For A Penny)

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If I could stop her, I would.

I’ve seen the way her hands shake, fumbling with the cupboard door. It always takes longer than it should to find the right bottle, and she never gets the lid open on the first try. She’ll twist it this way and that, whack it against the sink, let every swear word she knows tumble past her lips before tipping out

one,

two,

three,

sometimes four little white circles into her palm. She’ll look at me, dead-on, as she swallows each one back.

If I could stop her, I would— but I can only watch.

For more information on “In For A Penny”, or for further entries, click here.

Day Thirty-Five – “Curtain Call” (In For A Penny)

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Waiting for the curtain to fall had become a solid part of Carla’s daily routine – as each day went by, her lines and choreographed routine seemed blur a little more into one. It wasn’t just on the stage, either.

It had started out all sunshine and diamonds and camera flashes– and before she knew it, she was stuck in an endless routine like a dance at a masquerade, hiding behind a carnival mask stuck in a wide grin. Always the same – Bat eyelashes, smile for the press, strut, change dresses, kiss cheeks, sign pictures.

All she wanted was a curtain call.

For more information on “In For A Penny”, or for further entries, click here.

Day Thirty-Four – “Welcome Party” (In For A Penny)

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The ship had been destroyed on impact. Unfortunately, so had a curious farmer.

Smoke spilled from the large gash in the side of the ship as blood pooled and soaked into the earth around the farmer’s head; one arm stuck out at the same awkward angle as the ripped metal hull. The pilot exited the ship quickly, looking over the farmer’s glassy-eyed form with curiosity.

Yes, it decided. That’ll do nicely.

The farmer’s body straightened up, arm righting itself with an unpleasant cracking sound. It stumbled a bit, almost fell, and began to walk stiffly away from the crash site.

For more information on “In For A Penny”, or for further entries, click here.

Day Thirty-Three – Beatles, Wembley, 1966

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You waited forever for those tickets, bought with three months of Saturday work at the record store. That was where you met. In fact, you have the men on the stage to thank for your very first conversation – who’s better, John or Paul? Oh, no, it’s all about George. Everyone seems to forget Ringo.

The Wembley crowd’s gone wild, working themselves up into a frenetic dance, shrieking, whooping. You don’t notice because her hand’s on your knee, her breath on your cheek – you lean in and press your lips to hers and everything else disappears, fades to black.

Just her.

For more information on “In For A Penny”, or for further entries, click here.