Another prompt, another round of great stories to choose from. Check the stories out below and vote for your favorite!
Some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed. I know people say that and don’t really mean it but, crikey, some days, I bloody well mean it.300 words, by Bill Engleson (@billmelaterplea)
Now, where the hell did that come from?
There may have been honor in the scouting world years ago but something terrible came to light a few years ago. I won’t go into it, but it did tarnish the organization.
But that’s not really what I want to ramble on about.
Maybe a little bit, it is.
Mostly, I wanted to talk about Phil.
I was thinking about him this morning as I fought the staying-in-bed-forever gremlins.
Phil made it most of the way up the scouting telephone pole as a kid.
It used to be a different kind of pole but I’m trying to be pc.
Almost became an Eagle Scout before he bailed.
It was like his passion, right so a little bit of me wondered about why he crashed and burned.
In his twenties, Phil got his academic act together and went off to college. Somewhere in the mid-west.
He was pretty bright, not top-draw bright but smart enough to pick up some bursaries and awards. Not enough to pay the full tab so he found a money-making scheme.
Became a second-story man.
What did you expect?
That he sold magazines?
He was a surprisingly good thief until he got caught.
Got a double deuce in the joint.
When he got released, he came back home.
We hooked up.
Shared our joys and our miseries.
He made a passable life for himself.
They had two kids.
I thought he had the world by the…huh, by the tail.
Got the word last night.
Never thought he’d top himself.
“She bit me!”
Caldwell Keller shut the door behind him. Shaking his right hand, he walked to the dark windows overlooking the shimmering city skyline.
“What did you expect?”
Karl Victorien adjusted his tie and admired the cut of his slate suit in the window reflection. He stood head and shoulders over the lanky Caldwell, whose white tuxedo was tailored with similar precision.
“Maybe a little gratitude for the wardrobe? What kind of person doesn’t like new clothes? It’s not like she can stroll through downtown in just her wolf pelts.”
“You forget she does not see herself as human. Those pelts are part of her identity.”
Caldwell cast a side-eye at his imposing associate.
“You’re not gonna give me trouble too, are you?”
Karl ran his rough hands lightly over his worsted wool suit.
“I… Let myself go. More than I should have. I am grateful for this chance to re-engage with the world.”
“Good.” Caldwell hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “And, when it comes down to it, we can count on Wenona too. Right?”
Karl considered the lights of the city below. Caldwell produced a cigarette and lighter from his jacket pockets. He lit up and took a long drag. Karl sighed heavily.
“I do not know why she agreed to come with us at all. She would do anything to protect her forest, but can she truly understand how this mission accomplishes that?”
Caldwell exhaled a wreath of smoke around the two men.
“Saving the world’s too abstract for her?”
“To my knowledge, she had never left the forest before today. I am not sure she has the frame of reference to understand something as large as the world. Even I am apprehensive about battling a god on the moon.”
“You and me both, buddy.”299 words, by David A Ludwig (@DavidALudwig)