Second Stage Turbine Blade

“I started with the hands, cos they looked like the easiest part to swallow. I didn’t have to chew too much. The internals weren’t too bad either. Not something I’d typically consume but it was bearable.”

“Oh god, you must have been famished. I can’t imagine what you did with the shell!”

“Haha, you have no idea. I had to grind it up before it was palatable. No way I could have eaten it whole. Was a pretty interesting experience!”

“Ew! Did you get the shits?” Fred laughed.

Jimmy pulled up a chair and sat at our table. “What are you guys talking about? Sounds juicy!”

“I was just telling Fred that I ate a clock yesterday, it was very time-consuming.”


Writing Prompt from Reddit: [CW] Write a story around a pun, a joke, or a punchline

Excursion

“On the right, beyond those rocks, you can see the cheetahs resting under the trees, waiting for the sun to come down before they start to hunt,” said Ms Lilium through the microphone.

The kids all looked out the side of the bus, trying to catch a glimpse of the predators they had only read about in books, letting out “oohs” and “ahhhs” excitedly.

This was their first excursion out of the Dyson sphere to planet Earth, and they were finally able to observe with their own eyes things they had only seen in books and television.

The driver slowed the bus down as a herd of deer stood in the middle of the road, blocking their path.

The deer were now circling the bus, noses in the air, sniffing frenziedly.

“Wait, aren’t deer herbivores?” said Lucy, the smart alec of the class.

Little Tommy felt a shiver run down his spine.


Writing Prompt from Reddit: “Wait, aren’t deer herbivores?”

Five Thousand Years

My jaw dropped, I could not believe what I was seeing.

There she was, standing precariously at the edge of the road.

Was it really her? She must be at least thirty five thousand years old now.

I called out, “Come here, Snuggles!”

She yelped, ears flailing in response, and ran to me.


Writing Prompt from Reddit: [WP] For five thousand years you thought you were the only immortal on earth, then one day you run into an old friend. A very, very old friend.

Paths

“Are you ready?” she asked me.

Turning back now would have been near impossible. I nodded wordlessly.

She handed me a coin. “It’s all up to you now.”

I removed my backpack and set it on the ground. The woods were surprisingly well lit at this hour. The moon must be working hard tonight. We were back at same forked path we had backed out of before – but we didn’t have the luxury tonight. I had to make a decision.

There were two routes in front of us. I had to choose one of them, but I wasn’t sure which one. There were no signs or any clear indication. She suggested I flip a coin to decide when the time came, and that time was now.

“Isn’t it the stupidest idea?” I said.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“No. But, we’re leaving it all up to chance!”

“You know that’s not true. Once the coin is in the air, you’ll wish for it to land on one of its sides. You can’t explain it, but you’ll know what I’m talking about. There’s already a path you want to take. We can choose to go with your gut – or with whatever side the coin lands on. It’s up to you to decide, either way it’s all the same to me.”

I pondered for a moment. “Why can’t you make the choice for me? That way it would be so much easier!”

“This isn’t my journey. I’m but a mere companion. I go where you go.”

“What about them?”

“What about them?”

“Won’t we run into them if we go down the wrong path?”

“Sure, but we could also avoid them entirely. There’s a chance.”

“We could turn back-“

“And let them come after us? That’s fine with me too. We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“You’re not very helpful.”

“I know. I’m also imaginary,” she said with a smile.

“Very funny.”

I flipped the coin. It landed heads. Right where I wanted to go.

I picked up my backpack and headed down the path. She disappeared as quickly as I had made up my mind. I hoped I was right.


Writing Prompt from Reddit: [DP] “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

Connect

It was a long and arduous trek to the edge of the world. Jimmy had trained his whole life for this moment, and today he was going to accomplish what nobody else before him had done. He was going over the edge. To be fair, he was going to be the first because nobody else cared enough. He didn’t even know what got into him. Nobody in his village believed that there was anything beyond the horizon, and the idea to visit it never crossed their minds. He wanted to prove them wrong. Lazy fucks! After two years of getting in shape and living in the wild to train himself to the harshness of the environment, was prepared for the journey.

It had been months since he bid farewell to his village, nobody shed a tear when he did. They expected him to give up and return, and since he didn’t, they probably thought he was dead. By his calculations, he’d be reaching the edge of the world soon. He had read in books about his ancestors living on a sphered world, where it would have been impossible to reach its edge (since it didn’t have one) but there were a significant amount of people who believed otherwise. Idiots. He knew that his world was flat because he had seen pictures of it taken from the air (at a very high altitude). There was an end point – and today he was going to find it.


She was on the run. There was no turning back now. Her family massacred, lover murdered right before her eyes. It had been by chance she had managed to slip by the marauders. She took it, and never looked back. Instead of heading westward, where other villagers could have sheltered her and offered protection, she decided to head east, towards the barren wasteland of the world. She preferred to take her chances on the unknown, instead of leaving her life in the hands of strangers. How would she know that they wouldn’t sell her out to those creatures? The monsters had caught up to her village because someone spilled the beans in the first place.

One thing she knew for sure – the marauders would never follow her east. It was much too dry and barren for them to travel through. They thrived in wet and slimy places – just like her own kind. She decided that she would rather die to the hands of nature than the claws of those beasts.

As she continued her journey east, she realized that the horizon was appearing closer to her – it wasn’t some intangible line that she thought it was when she first spotted it as a child. It seemed very real – like something within reach. She set her sights on it, and made it her goal. A literal endpoint to her escape. She wondered what laid ahead.


Writing Prompt from Reddit: [WP] A shattered Dyson sphere is fragmented across a dim star. It’s creators have long ascended. New life emerges on the sphere’s inner shell, where civilizations use the fragments as islands. Fungal life grows on the outer shell, surviving in the cold dark. The two sides meet for the first time.

3478*

I punched the number into the payphone after the job was complete, just like I was instructed to. Goddamit, pick up the phone. Why isn’t she picking up?? The dial tone continued ringing. I looked around anxiously, outside it was pitch black. The only source of light for miles was from within the phone booth I was standing in. It was quite a trek, but I had selected this place for a reason. Nobody would pass by at this hour, let alone this season – it had been snowing for days.

I stayed on the phone, waiting for someone to pick up. doo doo… doo doo… still no answer. I checked the time on my watch: four a.m. What the fuck do I do now? Why didn’t we come up with a plan B? Holy fuck. Frustrated, I hung up the receiver. This was no time to panic. What was my next step?

I looked out of the phone booth again to make sure that nobody had followed me, I was alone. I stepped out into the snow, walked around to the side to shield myself from the win, and sat down, back against the wall. What did I get myself into?

The calm that I felt faded away and was now replaced by fear and anxiety of the crime I had committed half an hour ago. Well, the crime I had looked like I committed.

I was told by Miss Chicanery (a fake name, I’m sure) I’d be paid double the reward of turning her in by donning a wig and dressing up like I had just killed someone in cold blood. I only had to walk past some security cameras to lead the authorities astray, while she (who would have done the deed), exited the same building in the opposite direction.

I had to make sure that I wasn’t followed, call her up to check in, and meet her somewhere else to collect my reward. Because she wasn’t answering, and I had no idea what to do next. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, I needed something to calm down my racing heart.

Now’s not the time to panic.

I finished my smoke and headed back into the phone booth, I tried the number one more time.

“What took you so long?” said the voice on the other end.

“Me?? I called you about five minutes ago and nobody picked up!”

“You must have dialled the wrong number, I’ve been waiting for you to call all night and my phone didn’t even ring once!”

“Forget about it, now that we’re talking – where do we go next?”

“You sure nobody is on your tail?”

“I’m pretty-“

There was the sound of a gunshot on the other end, followed by the thud of the cellphone dropping to the ground. What the fuck just happened over there? The sound of footsteps crept towards the phone. A man cleared his throat and spoke.

“Miss Chicanery?”

I remained silent. Do they think she is me??

“I know you’re listening. Nice decoy, but you’re not going to get away this time. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

He hung up. I placed the receiver back in its place and collapsed against the wall. Holy fuck. What did I get myself into?


Image Prompt from Reddit: Phonebooth

You Used to Call Me on My Cellphone

“Wow, still getting texts from my boss even when I’m dead, can you believe it?” I said, going through the notifications on my phone. Once I was done with all the tags to tributes and photos on Facebook, there weren’t many to go through. People tend to stop reaching out when they know you’re gone.

My new friend who seemed lost in thought a moment ago noticed I had a phone with me. “What the hell – how did you get that in?? I thought they confiscated that shit at customs?”

“Beats me, they must have missed it. Besides, there’s not much charge left anyway, it’s going to die – like I did.”

“That’s very funny, can I use your phone for a bit before it dies? I haven’t been connected to the internet in ages.”

“Dude, you came in right after me!”

“I know! It’s been half-an-hour.”

“And..?”

“That’s an eternity without being online!”

I shrugged and handed him the phone, “sure. If you get caught, don’t say it was from me.”

I didn’t bother logging out of my apps or deleting my messages – it didn’t matter anyway, we were in the afterlife, what would people do with information about my past life? I continued walking down the street, leaving my friend, who found a bench to sit on, behind while I explored this new world.

The afterlife isn’t so different from life. If I took a photograph of the two worlds, you would have trouble discerning the differences. I didn’t feel like I was dead. It was just like living but in another country.


A couple of weeks had passed since the day I arrived – I had settled into a new routine in this life. I had completely forgotten about the friend I made when I saw his face on the front page of the daily paper.

Suicide Bomber Stopped From Setting Off Phone Bomb – Terrorist is now in custody, and police are currently investigating the phone used in the crime.

I spit my coffee out.


Writing Prompt from Reddit: “You die with your cell phone in your hands, and the afterlife customs agents miss it when letting you in. You find that it still works, and you can connect to the internet and contact people in the living world.”

The Deal

Having just moved into your new home, you jokingly say “If there are any monsters in my room, come out and we can make a truce!” Then, a skeleton walks out of your closet.

I dropped my backpack onto the floor in shock and inched towards the exit, wishing that I hadn’t closed the door.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” said the skeleton as it closed the closet door behind it. (I assumed it was speaking despite its lack of lungs and larynx. The alternative explanation was me imagining voices in my head, which was probably just as bad).

“Are you questioning my ability to speak?” it asked when I didn’t respond to its first question. (Holy fuck, was it a mind reader too?) “No, I’m not a mind reader, that’s just what all the other people I’ve encountered asked when they met me.”

“Come on kid, I don’t have all day. What are the terms of the truce this time?”

“I didn’t think of one yet! Give me some time!” I managed to blurt out. It was the truth, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I said those words.

“You’ve got ten seconds, if not I’ll go all Army of Darkness on you!” (it sure knows its trivia!).

“Okay, don’t bother me and my family, and I will feed you once a week!”

“What, do you think I need food to survive? Look at me!” the skeleton retorted.

“I didn’t think it true! What kind of truce has worked for you in the past?”

“I the life of your firstborn child in exchange for peace and quiet is a pretty common one I’ve received,” it said.

“What if I don’t want kids?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Everybody wants to start a family!”

“Not me. I don’t want any kids.”

“Fine, you can make that promise then, since you won’t be having any kids. It’s a win-win for you.”

“Are you going to meddle in my affairs? Will you try to get my partners pregnant?”

“Hell no, I’ve got better things to do than to make holes in condoms.”

“What the fuck do you do inside the closet anyway?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“So we have a deal?”

“Deal.”


“And kids, that is the story of how you lost an older brother. So if you see a skeleton in your closet, be sure not to make promises you might later regret.”


Writing Prompt from Reddit: “Having just moved into your new home, you jokingly say “If there are any monsters in my room, come out and we can make a truce!” Then, a skeleton walks out of your closet.”

I Am

Things were different in the past, now people care about my color.
At times I am a burden, other times I am a frill.
I can be specific or all-encompassing. I am ubiquitous.
You could live without me but it would be difficult.
Commonly found in the air or on the ground, above and under you.
People worry when I’m left alone in populated places.
You put in me things you trust. I try to keep them safe.


The other day I woke up with a dream where I wrote a riddle and I thought it was brilliant, I managed to save a line on my phone before going back to sleep. I thought I’d try to recreate it but it turns out that writing a clever riddle is harder than I thought. To write a clever riddle you have to skirt the line between being too obtuse or too obvious – something I haven’t mastered. In turn, doing this exercise made me appreciate the amount of work that goes into creating good riddles. Maybe I’ll attempt more in the future.

In case you didn’t figure it out already, I am a bag.

The Spell

“It’s so hard to read this gibberish!” Dina said to herself with the stolen spellbook open in front of her. “There must be a better way to get a prom date!”

“No, this is all Adrian’s fault!” she reasoned. “If only he was in love with me, then I wouldn’t have had to resort to magic!”

She was by no means an experienced spell caster. She was far from one. Dina had spent exactly
one day under the tutelage of the Great Theodore, one of the school’s most powerful wizards before she found herself stealing one of his advanced spell books and attempting spells beyond her means.

Tonight was the school’s prom night and she had decided to test the seduction spell on Adrian because she wanted a dance. Things didn’t go accordingly, and she killed everybody in the vicinity instead. Now she was by herself, trying to figure out how to undo the damage.

Dina flipped through the pages of the book, looking for pictures that resembled mass resurrection. There was nothing as far as she could see. “Maybe that’s in volume two…”

Nearing the end of the book, her eyes widened when she saw a drawing of what appeared to be a tombstone with a crack going through it. “Could this be the spell to raise the dead? Only one way to find out.”

Dina cleared her throat, raised her wand, and did her best to utter the words on the page. “Du’s ra tha rath guia eh ko luu chai!”

Her wand started glowing and lighting shot out from its tip to the corpse closest to her, and bounced around from corpse to corpse, electrocuting each body and bringing them back to life.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, happy that the spell worked.

As the previously dead people rose to their feet, they all looked at Dina, eyes blinking in confusion, demanding an explanation. Eventually, everybody was alive in the hall, including Adrian who was now stumbling towards Dina. However, the lighting continued bouncing around and started striking people once again, sending their bodies into convulsions before turning them into ash and ending their second lives.

Dina realized what was happening and quickly returned to the book for a spell to end her previous spell.

“Dina, what’s going on here? Did you do this?” asked a dazed and concerned Adrian.

“No time to explain!” said Dina, as her eyes frantically scanned the pages of the book. “Ah hah!”

Raising her wand again, Dina yelled, “Suu kai la thri roos rhah!”

Her wand let out a small spark and quickly extended itself, turning itself into a lightning rod. The lightning redirected itself to Dina’s wand, dissipating almost immediately. “Phew.”

She collapsed to the floor, exhausted from the ordeal.


Haven’t done a writing prompt in a while, decided to get back into it today. Prompt from /r/promptoftheday “She resurrected”