Chain Writing — Episode Sixteen

Here is my next installment for Kerrie Salsac’s excellent chain writing game. Looks like Cindy might not have a say in things!

Episode Sixteen.

A glance out the window of his rented home confirmed his worse fears. She had made a fool out of Agrit. A dead fool at that! She would pay dearly for this act of defiance. George had played his part well and now Agrit had screwed up what was supposed to be the easy part of his master plan.

She was to be the latest addition to his little harem. She with the blue Nigab would join the other six wearing black Nigab’s.

He called to his true and trusted friends, “Jimmy, Mac, you need to finish what you have started!

Chain Writing Game — Episode 7

Kerrie Salsac has created a writing challenge. Head over to her place to take a look.


“Out of the car,” Charles ordered.

Cindy did as she was told thinking all the time that she would follow any order just to stay alive.

“Hands behind your back,” he calmly said.

His calmness was what concerned Cindy. It was like this had all been rehearsed before. She did as he ordered while he added tape to her mouth.

Shit, what now she wondered. He seemed to be waiting for something or someone.

Then she saw a car coming up the deserted road. God, it was her husband’s car and there were three other men inside.

Nice work her husband said to Charles.


He looked like the Del he remember from this side angle view he had. Same mop of red hair, constantly pushing up his horn rimmed glasses. He had met Del when they both worked for the railroad in Wyoming. He had worked there for almost ten years when Del showed up as a new hire. They became friends almost at once. Both were single and in their mid-thirty’s and making good money compared to the rest of the working community in the same small town.

He figured he would work for the railroad for the rest of his life and earn his golden spike. Del had other plans for himself besides staying here in the “backwoods” as he called it. Del had been accepted to the Masters program in Fine Arts at the University of Arizona in Tucson. And he was putting the hard sell on Dan to join him in this “adventure”.

Finally Dan accepted and they both moved to an unfurnished apartment in Tucson. Del was working as a carpenter when he wasn’t going to school. Dan worked with him for a few months before he accepted a job with IBM. IBM then transferred him to the West Coast and that was the last time he saw Del.

In his career with IBM Dan was transferred all over the world and had recently retired from his executive position with the firm. In all that time Dan hardly ever thought about Del. He knew that Del had dropped out the Masters program at UofA and was back working in construction.

Until today. He was out looking for retirement homes in the Southwest and was looking at this latest development that had received great reviews from all the “where to retire magazines”.

He called out, “Hey Del, is that you.”

The figure turned around and shouted, “Dan, my god, is that you Dan? The IBM executive that once worked with me when we first moved to Arizona. The world traveler and famous tech exec.”

“Yup, Del, that’s me. Looks like your still working construction. I’m out here looking to purchase a new retirement home.  Any recommendations?”

Just then a young girl ran up to Del and said: “Mr. Webb, you have a conference call with your development managers scheduled in 10 minutes. The development managers from Florida and California can’t make it but all the others will be on-line.”

“Hey Dan, while I take this call, why don’t you go with this young lady and she can set you up with a few nights in one of our Villas here and you can look around. No rush. My treat! If you can’t find something here I can fly you and the wife to one of my other developments.”

Inspiration for this posts goes to “The Jittery Goat”.

Friday Fictioneers — Planned Attack Failure

These words are my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.

Copyright - Douglas M MacIlroy

Copyright – Douglas M MacIlroy

They spent the previous day planting two bombs in the iconic Tower. They knew a successful strike on the tower would be a French 9/11 and could cost thousands of lives.

After the bombs were secured to the structure both Henri and Anatole spent the cold night hiding behind the larger beams. Both men joined the first of the 32,000 daily visitors as they exited. The remote control detonation device was hidden under a park bench some 4 blocks from the Tower. As they entered the park  un agent de police asked, “Messieurs, are you looking for this little box?”



He had been gone for three days. Left in a huff over what he can’t remember now. Left without packing anything. Bought new underwear, shirts, toilet items, and jeans at a Target store. Two lonely nights at a motel on the beach didn’t help. Pulling back into his driveway he saw her on the little brick pathway that lead from the garage to the new patio they had built a few months ago. “Hi! Am I still welcome here,” he called.

He knew the answer when out of her garden apron she drew a pistol, aimed and fired.

She thought to herself, “Thanks Walt’s Sporting Goods Store and the two-day training class you provided to teach me to use this little baby.”

Lions 14, Pigeons 13

The idea is to write a story – Flash Fiction – of around 100-200 words based on the photo below. Find the details of the challenge here.

35 11 November 24th 2013

Welcome back sports fans to the last 3 seconds of this exciting football game. The Lions roared to a 14 to 0 lead in the first quarter only to have the Pigeons score the next 13 points.

The pigeons have taken the ball down to the 15 yard line and it looks like they are going for a field goal to win the game. The fans are going crazy with Coo!, Coo!, Coo!.

Here comes their field goal kicker Drew Taube. If Taube makes good on his field goal attempt the pigeons will win the game.

The snap is good. Taube makes clean contact with the ball. Oh No the ball sails right and the Lions win the game.

A fan comments, “Would have won the game if they hadn’t brought in that pigeon-toed Taube.”

NaBloPoMo #25

The Coffin

I’m in my coffin with the lid open. It’s quite comfy actually. I just would like to pull that silk sheet over my shoulders. I’ve got my business suit on. They, whoever they are, must have looked deep in my closet to find it. I haven’t worn this suit in seven years. I know it’s been at least seven years because I’ve been retired that long and have not worn a suit since. Until today apparently.

I can’t see above the rim of this coffin but I feel (I can still feel?) like I’m in a real quite place as their seems to be a fair amount of movement around me but I can not heard anything. But above me are four people, two on each side, that I recognize. Mom and Dad on one side and my sister and wife on the other. They have sad faces as they look down upon me. What happened I wonder?

My mother: “He pulled the plug on me. I could have survived.”

Her lips are not moving but I can read her thoughts. Mom, you had so many surgeries the doctors would not perform anymore. Your body would not have survived the onslaught of another operation.  You were 84 mom and you had a very good life with lots of friends and caring family. Yes, it was my decision to let you go

My sister: “He pulled the plug on me too. I know I was not responsive and had been a vegetable for months but I still could feel emotions.”

But Sis, you were born with one kidney, the other failed after a few years, you were on dialysis for years, your body was exhausted and worn out. You were only 56 years old but most of those years you suffered. You had friends, family, and neighbors to help you, but you mainly suffered on your own. Yes, it was my decision to let you go.

My father: “He pulled the plug on me too, the little weasel.”

Dad, you fell off the toilet and suffered severe brain damage that was irreversible. The doctors told me you would never regain consciousness ever again. Yes, it was my decision to let you go.

My wife: “Yes, I am the one who pulled the plug on you.”