Wednesday, October 18, 2006

An Inexact Science

Fireflies in the Cloud: 1st Annual Flash Fiction Contest! Prizes! 99 words of Horror!

Lisa hated working in the lab. She hated dissecting little animals more, so her science teacher promised she could complete a different assignment. This one had something to do with…
For a second she couldn’t remember how she got here. She looked around. An old recessed ventilation fan hummed from behind a thick iron grating. It got closer the longer she stared at it.
She looked down to see she was holding an antique scalpel in her right hand. Her left hand held open the skin of her own abdomen.
Lisa woke in agony as the anesthesiologist screamed “Stop!”

Friday, October 06, 2006

Hiatus

Uncle Slim didn’t like my new idea for a candy bar.
“Look, you can’t have nuget with coconut,” He growled around his cigar. “It’s disgusting.”
Slim was a dinosaur, so I couldn’t imagine what he knew about candy bars.
I sighed and pushed up the Panama hat that was hiding my tired eyes.

“Well I’ve got to think of something, I need to pay the piper. Can’t move in with Barbara again, just can’t.” Aunt Barbara was Uncle Slim’s ex wife.

“Barbara.” the green reptile reminisced, crossing his thick scaly legs and adjusting his polka dot sundress in turn. “She made me pay rent, I can tell you that. That’s why I left her.”

“That’s not why you separated my friend, and you know it.” I peered over at him with my hands crossed behind my neck and grimaced.
“Start wearing panties for god’s sake.”

“Hey!” said the television all of a sudden and much too loudly, “What you need to do is invest what money you got. You could really clean up working from home! Speaking of which, you should think about getting a Magic Mop®. Don’t even need tile cleaner with that one.”

I wasn’t really interested in any more of TV’s schemes. I already owed him for the home grill, the inflatable coach, the Assinator exercise machine, and the ultra limited edition silver dollar minted with Uncle Slim’s face on it.
When I told him that, TV smacked himself on the top with his mechanical arm.

The recliner I was in was really comfortable but I wasn‘t.
I got up, agitated, and strolled into the kitchen to look at the old white enameled ‘47 Frigidaire.

As soon as I opened its door a huge pink tongue came rolling out to plop on the floor.
I stepped back in time to avoid getting slobber on my shoes and it groaned “Blaaaaaaah”, like Popeye after eating a bad can of spinach.

“Fridge is sick again,” said the double slice toaster.
“Yeah I noticed.” I left the door open because the giant tongue would permit no other option, and prayed it didn’t throw up or anything.
It seemed I wouldn’t be time traveling or eating from it any time soon.
As was my habit I sighed in resignation and zombie-marched back to the cluttered and crowded living room.

I knew the gas station was hiring but I didn’t really feel like walking all that way just to be told I wasn’t qualified to become an apprentice tire changer.

The vacuum in the corner watched intently as a big cylinder of ash spiffed off my uncle’s El Stinko cigar to come to rest on the deep shag carpeting.

From the other room I heard a sharp mechanical gag and what sounded like a trunk of salmon being splashed across my kitchen floor.
“You shoulda bought that mop Danny-boy!” the TV announced cheerfully.

As the vacuum hastily retreated into the closet I decided to go out after all.

An Inexact Science

Lisa hated working in the lab. She hated dissecting little animals more, so her science teacher promised she could complete a different assignment. This one had something to do with…
For a second she couldn’t remember how she got here. She looked around. An old recessed ventilation fan hummed from behind a thick iron grating. It got closer the longer she stared at it.
She looked down to see she was holding an antique scalpel in her right hand. Her left hand held open the skin of her own abdomen.
Lisa woke in agony as the anesthesiologist screamed “Stop!”