Week 15 participating in the very popular #vss365 challenge on Twitter. The aim, to write a daily Very Short Story in less than 280 characters, a single tweet. Yes, that’s characters! Not words.
The prompts themselves are seemingly random single words, the whim of this month’s challenge setter. This months fun has been organised by @iam_nirupama I’ve taken some liberties with formatting simply because WordPress is not Twitter and to make it easier to read.
This week’s cover photo is Archer’s pink nose, undeniable evidence that winter is upon on us.
The #velvet drapes billowed into the moonlit room.
The window closed; the hairs on the back of his neck bristled as something fled into the shadows.
Something that didn’t want to be found. Which was fine by him.
He flipped the lights on. “And here’s the master bedroom.”
The spotlight blinded him. How could he #sway the judges?
They’d seen it all, most of it again that night.
An endless conveyer belt of unoriginality.
The audience grew impatient.
He had no act, but at least he had a killer backstory, one rich with twisted variety.
The impossible city floated high in the sky, a towering metropolis of silver spires and terraced gardens.
“It’s a #mirage,” the sailor said. “A trick of the light.”
His shipmate looked puzzled. “Sure … but”
He pointed to the girl frantically waving at them from a window.
The obnoxious critic had left a trail of crushed contestants in his wake.
As he approached, she smiled. “Enjoy.”
“You’ll curry no favour with me, madam,” he retorted, taking a mouthful. “Your #curry has no flavour!”
“No, but it does have heat,” she grinned.
It struck fear in the hearts of the bravest, but that didn’t stop them.
One by one they’d throw themselves headlong into its icy jaws.
Plunging a perilous #serpentine route down the mountain, it would test their mettle.
One mistake and they’d learn this beast could bite.
He’d broken every #vow he’d ever made, usually at the bottom of an empty bottle.
The first had been the hardest. The last, well, that would be the easiest.
His finger tightened on the trigger.
“Wait!” the thug pleaded. “You promised.”
“Yes, yes I did”
The trigger clicked.
He was #lucid, awake and alone.
He sat up, peered around the moonlit room.
Frustrated, he fell back onto the bed.
It took him an age to fall back asleep.
“There you are! This time, don’t let go.”
“I’m trying,” said the white rabbit, taking his hand. “It’s not that easy.”