Week 49 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 is organised by @49JDBlood in August. I’ve taken some liberties with formatting simply because WordPress is not Twitter and to make it easier to read.
This weeks photo is of Archer looking as photogenic as ever basking in a meadow. He was not looking quite so cool by midday in this mini heatwave. For those outside the UK, a heatwave is anything above 30c for more than 5 minutes. The beaches are packed. Well some of them, It turns out in most instances if you go a mile up or down the coast from any well-known beach the coastline is practically empty. I grant you that’s a hell of a walk for an ice-cream but you know … pandemic. In other news. A monstrous fertiliser explosion in Beirut levelled the port in what has to be one of the most-videoed explosion since nuclear testing ended. The sight of a red mushroom cloud, two days before the 75th anniversary of the dropping of the first nuke on Hiroshima was poignant. Especially when you consider that the Beirut explosion was a “mere” 2-4 kilotons, in comparison to the 15-kiloton “Little boy” device. Let’s hope the international help being offered gets to where it needs to be, to get the city back on its feet.
Writing this week has been a mixed bag. On Friday my first short story “The Valley of the Shadows” became available on amazon. Be sure to pick up your copy, “It calls from the Forest: Vol 2” anthology is getting some good reviews. I had another fantasy short story accepted for another anthology out later this year. I’ve been working on another story. The outline is done, but I seem to be circling the plughole in terms of getting it written. I’ve read more than I’ve written this week. I’m helping out one of the indie publishers by triaging the submission pile for an upcoming anthology. It’s proving very useful in terms of exposing me to a lot of different writing styles, what works, what doesn’t and why. Stuff I can use to home my own writing skills. I have a few deadlines in the coming week, which will help to focus my mind and get my word count up.
“I’ve got your #number, don’t you worry,” grumbled old man Murphy. I was ten when he’d caught me shoplifting, and I still felt guilty now. But what could I do? He ran the only hardware store in town and I needed a new house sign.
“It was 26,” I said.
“I ain’t forgotten!”
The K-drone was fast. Faster than anything on the battlefield, it dodged and dived, killing with impunity. Almost. Finger poised, I held my breath and calculated the kill shot. The drone was fast, but not fast enough to escape my #calculus. I squeezed the trigger.
Rick had accounted for every variable, except complacency. In his rush to make the pioneering jump, he’d overlooked the tiniest parameter. #Epsilon. Practically zero if you were popping down the street. Teleporting halfway across the galaxy, however, it spelt disaster.
Wednesday 5th August – Theorem
“Where’s your proof?” said Karl, spinning about in his chair. “Without that, your #theorem is little better than a hypothesis.”
“Well, for starters, the evidence is in the trash here,” said Luke, retrieving the empty beer can. “Not to mention it’s all down your T-shirt.”
Where #logic falters and two plus two is no longer four.
Where effect fails to follow cause and yesterday is as likely tomorrow.
Where infinity counts for nought and the darkness shines brighter than any light.
That’s where you’ll find me, embracing the chaos, dreaming.
“Welcome to the military math academy, recruits. Rule number one, #iff I say jump you ask how high!”
“Yes, Sir!” hollered the students.
“How high?” asked the Instructor.
Silence.
“Did I stutter? How high!”
“Jump?” a student offered.
“Right, recruit! You’re gonna go far.”
Saturday 8th August – Topology
The torturous #topology of the mountains claimed more lives than the wolves ever had. From the icy fang-like peaks to the bottomless maw of the ravines, the terrain tested the worthy. Bonds cut, spear in his back, Kurt stepped forward and hollered. The wind howled back.
