A LASH FOR EVERY WRONG ANSWER!

Like jade half moons waiting to rise, Maija's eyes smiled cruelly down upon me.

"You are quite alone, Roland. All your friends at Meilori's are otherwise occupied. And those steel cables hold you fast to my throne of blood."

She held a frosted glass of spring water to my lips, then pulled away. "Oh, no. No taste of your favorite drink."

"You've got to get out more, Maija."

Her riding crop slashed open my cheek. "My throne's name in Japanese is Kumonosu-jō!"

"I had a Latin teacher just like you once."

SLASH!

"She gave me my life motto : vincit qui se vincit. He conquers who conquers himself."

"I know that quote, worm."

"No, Maija. You don't. You may kill me, but you will never conquer yourself."

SLASH!

I was getting tired of that crop. I would have to be more like my fictional hero, Ulysses, if I was going to get out of this.

Maija wiggled without moving in her skin-tight Dragon Lady dress. "Oh, if you knew this morning that you would die this day, how different you would have lived it."

"Not really. I saved lives today delivering rare blood to the dying. What better way to spend my last day?"

SLASH!

"Your moral compass doesn't exactly point north, does it?"

She raised her crop, then stopped, "Do you think that this is the last scene in GLADIATOR, where the hero wins even though he dies?"

"Actually, my favorite movie is GALAXY QUEST : NEVER SURRENDER. NEVER QUIT."

SLASH!

My face throbbed, but I would be damned if I let her see me squirm. "You know I'm reading a book that reminds me of you : THE PSYCHOPATH TEST."

She snarled, "Are you expecting the revenant, Abigail Adams, to save you? All know in the Shadowlands how enamored of her you are."

“Just because you are a character doesn't mean that you have character."

She dropped her riding crop and took a strangle hold of my throat. "Why shouldn't I kill you?"

"With me dead, who will mourn you when you die, weep for you at your grave side?"

She backed up, tears welling in those suddenly hurt green eyes. "Damn you, Lakota! Why must you be this way?"

"I know of no other way to be."

I sighed, "You've already done plenty of things to regret, you just don't know what they all are. It's when you discover them, when you see the folly in something you've done, and you wish that you had it to do over, but it's too late."

"Too late," she murmured as if summing up her whole life.

I went on, "So you pick that thing up and carry it with you to remind you that life goes on, that the world will spin without you, that you really don't matter in the end. Then you will gain character because honesty will reach out from inside and tattoo itself across your face.”

I put all my heart into my words. "Why can't you do that?"

Her voice was of a little girl's, "I know of no other way to be."

She walked with a dancer's grace to the door of her throne room and said without looking back, "McCord is at the beach. He will be told of your plight. He will be here within minutes."

She walked out the door. And even though I knew it was daylight outside, it felt like night.



Here are the Platform Builder's questions from Daniel Todd Noyes

http://www.danieltoddnoyes.com/

I wove in my flash fiction :

If you had one week left to live, what would you do?

What quote inspires you?

What movie scene inspires you? Why?

What comedy do you end up watching again and again as the years go by?

Do you think love can last forever?

What fictional character would you trade lives with if you could?

What historical character would you marry if you had to choose someone?

Which do you prefer, coffee, hot cocoa, soda, vegetable juice, water?

How long would it take you to drive to the beach from where you live?

What are you currently reading?

STARTING THIS SATURDAY, LET THE WIND BLOW THROUGH YOU, WILL BE MY FREE GIFT TO ALL OF MY FRIENDS, ROLAND
***

CALL ME TOMBS_3rd Platform Builders Challange

In the mood for a laugh?

Rachel and J were so this is their 3rd challenge :

http://concretepiecesofsoul.blogspot.com/

http://rachaelharrie.blogspot.com/


Write a blog post in 300 words or less, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should show:

that it’s morning,

that a man or a woman (or both) is at the beach

that the MC (main character) is bored

that something stinks behind where he/she is sitting

that something surprising happens.

Just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: "synbatec," "wastopaneer," and "tacise."

(NB. these words are completely made up and are not intended to have any meaning other than the one you give them.)

So here is my 300 word Halloween Humorous Entry : CALL ME TOMBS.


Between Toomey and Starks, they found me at the crossroads. If you’re Lakota like me, you know that makes me cursed. The orphanage named me Toomey Starks. Call me Tombs.


Please not Toomer. Makes me sound like an unsightly growth. Behind me, Puppy chuffs at my expense. It is not the first time. And yes, he is the curse.


But he makes for great support as I lean against his broad back and soak in the warm rays on the beach. Puppy is somewhat larger than a Shetland Pony and only slightly smaller than a Sherman tank.

And he smells like Hell. Literally. Puppy chuffs his “What did you expect of a Hellhound?” chuff.

The morning air tastes of salt. The seagull glides gracefully above me. The wind tickles my scalp as it ruffles my hair. The seagull spots Puppy. CAAAW! Splat! On my forehead!

Seagull shit is warm, gooey, smelly, thick, and damn hard to scoop off. Puppy chuffs “Good Shot” to the seagull as its wings blur in its frenzied effort to go into warp speed.

Puppy could turn a wet dream of Megan Fox into a nightmare. I perk up. Speaking of Megan Fox, two honey bunnies, wearing smiles, suntan lotion, and not much else are slowly swaying my way. I hear them laugh emptily to each other in Clueless-ese.

Blather. Calories. Wastopaneer. Blather. Synatec Tacise Diet. Blather

I don’t mind. It’s not their intellects I’m interested in. Puppy chuffs “Big Surprise There”.

He turns to smile wide at them. They shriek and fall limp to the sands. I look for pulses. None. I glare at Puppy.

“I don’t mind you scaring beautiful girls half to death. I can comfort those. But did you have to scare these two TO DEATH?”

Puppy chuffs “Hellhounds don’t do sandcastles.”

***