Tag Archives: #fiction

Strongman Blues

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This work of fiction has been crafted as a weekly roundup to Fandango’s One Word Challenges (#FOWC) posted over the last seven days.
Content Warning: Contains implied violence, sexually explicit themes and course language.

Strongman Blues

Johnny Fingers’ leg twitched as he sat on the edge of the couch,  listening to the instructions being relayed. Always with the… Hey JF, collect the payola. Hey Johnny, deliver the product. Hey Fingers, squeeze this guy / whack that guy / dispose of the body, or whatever other trivial shit he could come up with. It was always an imposition but when the boss gave an order you did not ask questions.

His pulse quickened and the knot tighten in his gut as he texted Trinity, his side piece was going to go off her rocker when he canceled. He’d promised her a day at the beach with no interruptions. Man, the girl was stacked and looked delectable in a bikini, but she was h-i-g-h maintenance. Johnny expected to be henpecked worse than his own wife could ever muster.

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Morning Ritual

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“Where’s my textbooks? I have a test today.” Jamie screeched over his sister’s singing while grabbing her left earpiece.

“Wherever you left them, dumbo!” she shot back at a volume meant to compensate for the music in her head; playing so loud that we were all subjected to listen despite her headphones.

“Hey watch your mouth, Jeannie – – Babe, have you seen my bloody keys, I am going to be late!”

God damn it, every day is like groundhog day she thought as she responded on autopilot, “Check your coat, hun.”

When they were all finally gone she lit the spliff she’d rolled the night before and in the new quiet, pull in the same deep smoke filled breath she drew in every morning.

Holding her breath in as a euphoric wave of calm floods into her limbs; finally the world was in harmony with her.

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The Cost of Indifference

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Unrelenting darkness pressed down above the northern city trapped beneath the rubble of an intercontinental war it never asked for. Its only downfall is being landlocked between a wicked aggressor on the eastern front and indifference amongst the free and democratic societies to the west. The democratically elected government had aligned with the Western powers during the peaceful years following the Planetary Armistice of 2740.

The Eastern airforce was engaging in a campaign to carpet the rural grain and sheep farms with clusters of bombs precisely spaced to ensure maximum destruction of the arable countryside. Facing certain starvation, anger grew as it became clear that their allies had abandoned them. Sure, the West was providing stockpiles of old and neglected weaponry to shore up the National Resistance but compared to the weapons of modern warfare they were playing in the technological dark ages.

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Deep Below

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Following the loyalist insurrection, many Minos separatists were forced to toil long unforgiving hours serving Earth’s greed-driven interests.

My clan survived the initial onslaught, fleeing to the shelter of the catacombs deep below the settlement. I miss the warmth of the Minoan suns but the long-forgotten passages have proved the perfect refuge for ostracized colonists.

The therapeutic properties of the moon’s super-heated core providing us with everything we need while planning our triumphant return to the surface.

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Watercolours

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Ally looked confused sifting through the course catalog. “How in the name of God do I pick a future right here and now?”

Her Grandfather chimed in, “Think of your future as a blank canvas. It may start with some timid strokes but if you are deliberately thoughtful in making your choices and you let your heart lead you to the things that are important an image will begin to take shape. There may be obstacles to overcome and course corrections to be made along the way but as long as you remain true to yourself those early strokes will begin to bristle with confidence; the watercolours replaced with a more permanent layer. By the time you get to my age, your story will be filled with many chapters and the masterpiece you will be remembered for will have taken shape; it will be your portrait immortal.”

Firtlin’ about in her seat she rolled her eyes at him and replied, “Always with the life advice Grandpa, thanks I just need to decide between the Arts or Sciences.”

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Mask Mandate

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As masking mandates come to an end in Ontario and many other jurisdictions there are many businesses and other venues that will still require clients and employees to wear masks. Trying to explain to people that this is not an affront to their freedom is an uphill battle. They seem to forget businesses can run their operation as they see fit. The goods and services they provide are at their leisure, they have no obligation to serve you. It is no different than the adage “no shoes, no shirt, no service.” Your rights and freedoms are not being infringed upon, you have the choice to comply or go elsewhere.
In my experience, the majority of individuals who raise a stink almost universally carry a mask and after making a jackass of themselves put it on and go about their business. If you are one of those people, remember that the sixteen-year-old working behind the counter did not set the policy. They have an absolute right to not be subjected to your opinions, frustration or abuse. If a mask is that big a deal go elsewhere otherwise shut up and put the damned thing on!

I was standing behind the counter when he walked in, mask in his hand.

“Sir, masks are mandatory,”

“Jesus, you people and your masks,” he shot back, “Government’s got you twisted up over the bloody flu.”

“In light of overwhelming science, I don’t purport to understand your position but without a mask you’ll have to leave.”

With a grumble, he put the mask on.

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Safe Passage

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Bombs rained down around the village, now a target in a tyrant’s senseless war. Heorhiy thumb the cracked screens on the electronic gadgets in his hands hoping the screens and circuitry survived the concussive force of nearby explosions.

He was a farmer, not a fighter but she knew he would defend his homeland to the end. First worked to secure safe passage for his family. Lesya did not want to leave him but he insisted. She understood and accepted his need to see them safe. She watched him frantic, harried, as he searched for a signal from anywhere. Seeking information on the safest corridor, ensuring they safely fled to refugee centers across the border.

As they joined the convoy of millions moving north she could see he was torn, tempted to stay. She begged him to abandon this foolish fight and stay with them. The losses inflicted were enormous. She knew staying was a death sentence.

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The Ancient Gods

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Dr. Hiltunen stood at the center of the dig site deciphering an inscription carved on stone. As he read aloud he recognized the verse as a variation on an old Finnish rune. Ancient mythology had consumed him from a young age.

As he continued, the winds began swirling and the clouds spun clockwise. The doctor did not notice the coming storm even as the others scramble for shelter. The sky above Hiltunen opened and a rainbow column descended from the heavens. The doctor and the stone were pulled through the beam into the clouds, into Asgard.

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Hayin’ Season

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Late June in Ontario, Dad’s station wagon pack and pointed northward. It was hayin’ season on my Uncle’s farm and for the next week it was all hands on deck.

Riding the fields, we’d watch our fathers, row upon row, hooking the rectangular blocks emerging from the contraption sandwiched between tractor and trailer, neatly stacking the bales, back to front.

Somewhere in the middle we’d play in the hayblock forts fashioned for us while they toiled in the midday sun.

As always, the harvest would come to an end but we wished we could live on the farm forever.

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This Used To Be My Kingdom

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Seriously, you’re not going to let that thing lose again. Jeebus, I’m still missing two handfuls of fur and have a permanent kink in my tail from last time.

You know this used to be my kingdom but…

No, here it comes, ewww… get it away,

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