Be Very, Very Quiet

This one was written for the six sentence story prompt of range, and the idyllic picture that was posted by Sarah for our weekly picture prompt on The Writer’s Mess. I am back from my hiatus for Nanowrimo, and will be posting regularly. Follow a hunter, as they make this season, their season. Note I was personally aiming at Christmas this week, I completely missed. If you are squeamish, read the tags. Bonus points if you get the title reference.

He sat perfectly still in the blind, having waited far too long for this opportunity to let it escape him now. 

He could see his target, just out of range, and he took long slow breaths to keep his heart rate down as his excitement grew, knowing that this year he would finally get one.

They had been hunting for years, and he had never hit anything, it was always Rick that brought in a kill, sometimes two if it was a good season.

This was it, it would be his year, and he fought down his own impatience, as a shot too early would cause his quarry to flee, leaving him the laughingstock of the lodge.

She was heading his way, and he waited until she was well within range, making sure that when he pulled the trigger she would go down cleanly, all he had to do was squeeze.

It was over in an instant, with the twitch of a finger, the body dropping like a marionette with it’s strings cut, laying there with her ski’s askew, blood splattered on the snow, and he felt giddy with adrenaline, as he had done it; he had finally made his first kill.

No Silver Linings…

While there are exceptions, on the whole it seems that children don’t quite kid the way they used to. I was disappointed by this at Halloween, and then further surpised by in when babysitting a friends child. Makes me wonder what fiction will look like in 20 years…

I remember being a kid and listening to the adults speak about back when they were a kid, and how lucky we had it and thought that would never be me. But if the victim of the 80’s was the carefree nature of play, as we were bundled up, padded and watched, then the victim of the 2000’s was the imagination.

A generation has arisen that looks up at the sky and sees clouds. Just clouds, not lions, or dinosaurs and what is worse they cannot fathom making up such a thing as images from clouds. This is a generations for whom the constellations must seem as arbitrary as anything else in life is, and as an adult who could spend hours deciphering meaning in the passing of the clouds, I weep for the next generation.

The Mash

It seems that this is the month of looking backward, with a sense of nostalgia. I must say that childhood just isn’t quite what it used to be, and I see that every year at halloween where it makes me just a little bit sad.

It was an old song, but a favorite of mine. It was out of date, and a vit corny, but the idea of a bunch of monsters dancing in Dr. Frankensteins lab always amused me. The beat was catchy, and no matter how many times I listened to it, I never remembered all of the words.

I was far too old to enjoy it so much, but it brought me back to being a kid. To a time when Halloween was everything, and I was always a sucker for nostalgia. Its why I dressed up to hand out candy, because It was soo cool when people were in costume when you went to their door.

I think if I could, I would still trick or treat, though I could more than afford the candy. There was something about the excitement of it all, that seemed to be waning as time went by and less and less kids joined up for what was just a little wholesome fun.

Oh how the world has changed…

What a Difference a Day Makes

Welcome to this weeks response to the Friday Picture prompt on The Writer’s Mess! With Halloween on the brain, and this weeks image being that of a full moon, it doesn’t take a genius to realise where this weeks prompt was heading.  Follow the story of our narrator, who get’s in a car accident the week of the full moon…

Getting in a car accident sucked.

Getting in a car accident and healing so fast that they thought they mixed up her scans with another patients, really sucked.

Getting in a car accident, and being in a coma for an indeterminate time, that sucked the most.

Losing track of time wasn’t that big of an issue for most people, but when you turned into a bloodthirsty monster on the full moon, keeping an accurate calendar was key.

She only realised that the moon was rising full, when her bones started to snap, startling the nurse who was taking her vitals.

They thought it was tetanus, and so they ignored her pleas for them to leave.

They all died. 

The doctors, the nurses, the other patients, all of them died in that hospital, because she had a brain injury and couldn’t remember the day of the week.

It was a massacre, plain and simple. 

It the morning she called the council, and explained what happened.

The hospital burned, the investigators were bribed to look the other way, and the survivors didn’t retain the title long.

She was tried, and found innocent in a court of law, despite the body count. 

The judge looked at her with sympathy as the verdict was delivered, because she would have to live with the weight of what she had done for the rest of her life.

She never lost track of her dates again.