Arthur’s Comments (group member since Oct 25, 2008)

Arthur’s comments from the Short Story Contests group.

Ever heard of bottling everyone’s envy? One day envy became heavy and was dumped into a well by accident. Then all the tiny villagers drank the water, feed it to the crops. And the few animals they had. Usually they hoped for fresh rain year round, after tasting envy they each committed themselves to the well, hoping for crops and many other wondrous things they envisioned from naturally drinking their well water. Now they have a bottle industry for 'Envy' that comes in many favorite flavors.

it's creepy!!!

I slither past like a panther. I headed to the window, scanning the way, creeping up a wall. To my friend, stop that . . . to my girlfriend's bedroom. I tap on the glass, she has fallen asleep. She asked me to come up to her bedroom after her parents were asleep. I would dare not slid open the window to let myself in in a billion years. I can think of billions of other things she means to me. I write a love note and will tuck it in her window, it's opened a crack and I can see nothing in the room or hear a thing. It begins to rain and I hurry down and walk a mile in the rainstorm. I’m a hopeless romantic.

"The place to get the best view is right here." Said Joe to his daughter. After having fallen several times coming up the hill with her father, also stung by a hornets-nest of bees a while ago about a mile off, Jill looked terrible with all her hair swept back. the pony tail loose, hair pins lost, a grudge against her mother for allowing her to go on a hick with her father, the divorcee seeking revenge no doubt.
"I can't get a good view Daddy." She said. She was suddenly disappointed that she wasn't even tall enough to see past the bushes unlike her tall father who stood by and enjoyed the lake.
"Let's just go down closer, then." Smells with his nose, "Don't you just love that smell, of the fresh fish, they'll be jumping and I brought compact rods to catch fish." Joe said.

Esther wrote: "what about my topic???"

Well, we shall have to use your idea in the near future.

Esther wrote: "A fiction for a diferent time period... a fiction abpit the future or the past in other words."

suppose: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exponent...

An amazing looking list, thanks

I hope everyone posted the stories they meant to write.

Good stories everyone. After you read these biggies please go to the voting poll and vote for your favorite story. (No more Stories for this topic, **Contest Ends – go forth and vote!!!**

((Remember if everyone votes, everyone gets a vote, that’s the democratic way!!! Of course you can still vote for your favorite stories, just not your own, which would be undemocratic. Bon chance everyone.))

“Why are we at a hospital? I want to go home.” Tom said.

“Okay. This is it, put in your password and you get to go up to your pad man.”

“Oh, I don’t know any passwords. I think I forgot.” Tom said.

“Stop your clowning around Tom! I got to be at work.”

“I can’t live here, I live in a house. I think.”

“You get out of here. You haven’t been in a house since your childhood, man that was a long time ago.” Jeff said.

“Well. Where was it?”

“You don’t remember?” Jeff asked in a more serious tone.

“I want to go to it. Take me there.”

“Alright Tom, I’ll take you right away. We can go to mom and dad’s house and that’s for sure.”

They got back into the car.

“You need to like get a different color for this car man,” tom said. “Pink stinks, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Jeff was looking in his rearview mirror as Tom said that. His brows furled up. Tom stated playing with his seat belt again trying to get it off. Jeff was watching the police car creeping up behind his car since they were at the apartment. Jeff thinks a neighbor spotted him trying to punch in codes into the door lock or something hoping Tom could remember.

After the next turn it turned in the next lane and sped past him without eyeing Jeff. He felt a little relieved.

“Why do you stop at them lights all the time?” Tom began asking in an almost child like voice.

“Cause we have to stop at the red ones.” Jeff said in serious trouble. Why did Tom have to go running and falling after getting so drunk and now was retarded or something? He hoped it was not permanent.
“Oh, which turns red?” Tom asked.

“Why?” Jeff realized that it means it was more of a game than a serious talk with Tom, right now, because Tom wasn’t serious about many things as a child either.

“Because,” That was all he could snarl in response to Jeff. So Jeff had to explain the rules of driving once again to an adult of how to remain safe on the road.

“So when it turns to this light,” Jeff said without explaining its color, only when the lights changed, “we go!” he sped on.

“When it’s blue?”

“What blue? There’s no blue” Jeff was worried Jeff had lots all total sense of reality. It took Jeff a few minutes listening to Tom about the lights and the colors they appeared that he decided getting him into his parents home was the best thing, when a police car pulled them over.

“Okay, everybody out!” in a screeching voice a little person dressed in a uniform waved to the two men in the Corvette to get the stinking out of the car.

“Whose car is this?” asked the officer, putting out a hand to take a license and proof of registration too.

Jeff immediately looked askance and wearily at his friend Tom, who was still trying to get his seat belt off.

Tom said, “Get your seatbelts on!” and made a few whirling sounds with his lips. The police officer looked up at him.

“Don’t give me that crap, because I’ll run you in!” The cop said, pointing at the billboard while figuring out what to write as a sight if the case should arise. Strictly going by the rules of the book.

“Alright,” Jeff said looking worried. He went over to the other side of the car and quickly removed Tom’s locked seatbelt. They stood outside the car. Tom was holding a rounded up towel on his head. There was a bag filled with ice wrapped in the towel.

“When I said to get out of the car it can also mean get your hands up, gentlemen!” the cop said.

Jeff looked in the distance, impatient and askance away from the cop. Also not totally sure about the cop.

“But you two guys are definitely up to something. No more? Why are you holding that towel to your head?” the cop asked.

“He doesn’t know,” Jeff said for Tom.

“I think it comforts the pain in it.” Tom managed to say.

“So are you having some kind of problem, is that why you were speeding?” The cop asked.

“We weren’t speeding officer! It was only a red light. It was his fault actually” Jeff said pointing at Tom.

“What red light? I didn’t see any red lights.” Tom manages to defend himself.

“You see? I mean don’t you see?” Jeff said to the cop.

“Alright, enough you clowns! No more arguing. And I thought you were doing the driving?” Pointing at Jeff.

“Err, I was. Err, I did. I mean, he’s sick. Look at him, and everything, and I really need to get him to see a physician.”

“I don’t want to go to a hospital; you said I didn’t have to.” Tom said.

“Why does he need to decide?” the cop asked them.

“He thinks there’s something broken in his head.” Jeff stated.

The officer took a brief note on his pad book. “Uh huh,”

“No I don’t,” yelled Tom curiously. “I said look one looked pink!”

“Hold it Bud! Don’t get me confused.” The cop said. He took his time, then nodded, “about that, you saw what?” he asked. “A large bunny hopping and you tried to get him to swerve?”

“No.” Jeff spoke up, then pointing to himself, “Remember I was doing the deriving.” Jeff grinned up his upper lip unknowingly.

“He told me to tell him the color. So I said blue. And he was driving me to my parent’s house. Then I saw one and it was pink.” Tom started explaining, but it made absolutely no sense. The cop was disappointed in the riddle.

“Interesting,” The cop muttered, looking at Tom’s head and towel.

“There’s nothing broken,” Tom said.

“I see.” The cop said. “And what light is blue that becomes pink you are looking for?” he asked.

Why those on the machine,” Tom said pointing at the lights.

“He doesn’t remember anything. He took a knock and cracked his scull after we watched wrestling.” Jeff stated hopping the cop would leave and he could handle the rest himself.

“On TV?” the cop asked.

“Yes. My friend jumped up roaring about it, then he slipped and the really weird thing is he says everything he sees is weird. All except he can’t remember anything. Is that normal?”

“No, it is not!” cop said. “Okay, here’s what I’m going to do. I will let you go with a warning once.”

“That’s it? Thanks officer, we’ll go.” Jeff said pushing Tom back into his car.

“”Are we going home?” Tom asked again.

“Tom, soon. Then I will leave you there.” Jeff said. He looked in the rear view mirror as he streaked off the curb back into the street watching the cop stand there staring at his leaving. Tom unfortunately never recovered. And after getting him home he acted strangely around the parents he always had as if he never knew them either. The doctor said it was regression of memories. Today he sits in a hospital and plays with toys. His favorite is a big plastic pink corvette made for Barbie toys. He seems to have a fixed memory of riding in one once and relives his fonder memories.

The end

Title: Pink Corvette
Author: Arthur
Words: 2280
Short Stories Contest: Yes
2280

…………….



Pink Corvette

“Almighty Tom, get on your seatbelt.” Jeff said reaching out and pulling the thing and holding it out. “Can’t you remember?”

“Ah! No. Gee I think I feel funny after I woke up.” Tom says. “Kind of like a tunnel is being constructed to drive trucks through in my head.”

“Not good. Now I’m taking you to the hospital for sure and they can scan you for permanent damages like those!” Jeff said. Mostly worried for Tom appeared sick and partly annoyed too. During the night Jeff lay still worried about the way Tom started acting after the accident. Tom couldn’t even remember Jeff telling him that Tom was in it. Tom had got hit pretty hard last night when they had been drinking heavily. Tom said watch me run. Only he didn’t run far, and slipped. He finally landed in a dug pit so deep he yelled back up to Jeff to help him out. The construction zone pit was for a new building across the street. It began to rain and mud started to slide into the hole where Tom was. Then the unsecured bucket filled with gravel slid off and came down on his head. He lied there for about a half hour until Jeff found ropes he was able to tie together. When he got down into the pit Tom appeared frozen in a state in the mud barely breathing and moaning.

Jeff carried Tom back to the house. He put Tom on his couch. Jeff had gotten Tom partly awake but he said things that got Jeff worried. Instead of getting to sleep off his drunkenness and sobering up a little, just what he would have needed, all night Jeff tried to sleep but was worried about his life long friend. And the contact hit Tom had.

The sun came up in the morning. Its big yellow scorching fire beamed into the living room. Tom has often stayed on many nights on the couch. He was known to rise up good and early and open windows or hitting the bathroom to shower first before Jeff even got out of his bed. Not this morning.

Jeff succumbed to the worry, he felt the concern and he got up. Jeff found he was himself in a frozen and aching mood of altered reactions from his night before with not getting his needed sleep. He didn’t mind the noises Tom usually made that he rushed a little now that Tom appeared quiet.

His mind was so filled with worried thoughts. He slipped out the door after he put on his slippers as he always did. He had opened his door first a little crack to see which way to go without colliding into Tom in the hall. Some nights Tom didn’t just sleep alone on the couch. It was a habit foe Jeff to stop and check before running into the hall or the bathroom and meet a stranger. He knew there would be no one special this time, there was only them here. He just was moving that much slower this morning.

Jeff walked into the living room to find Tom still fast asleep, and loudly snoring. Tom hadn’t snored like that before, which made Jeff think maybe the guy fell into a kind of complicated comas after he fell to sleep. Was Jeff thinking crazy? Jeff shook Tom roughly until Tom’s eyes flickered open. And then they were eyes of a person who couldn’t recognize.


“I don’t want to go with you!” Tom said.

“What? Why not man? You had a bad fall last night and now look at you,” Jeff said pointing to Tom’s pants covered in mud, “you look hurt.”

“I don’t feel hurt. I . . .” Tom trailed off. He couldn’t inevitably remember what he wanted to say so much. The pain started again. Then he wondered who was Tom, himself or was it that other guy Jeff was talking about someone else. Tom froze. Colors were coming back into his vision only they were fuzzy and confusing. He couldn’t remember why things looked as they did now and almost could remember colors of things looked more pleasant they his eyes were now telling his brain.

“I . . . I . . .” he kept stuttering while the colors adjusted. Things were French blue and bright neon pink and there wasn’t any primary in his vision. Then he began to tell himself that he just realized he couldn’t remember all sorts of memories like who he was. His name and the sense of who he was deteriorated in front of him and all the colors faded into tans of the real thing. He then felt sick and wanted to get back out of the car to throw up.

“I can’t remember.” He was going to say who he was when he pressed his hands on the door and jumped out. He threw up on Jeff’s front yard.

“Okay now, you feel any better? Let’s get going.” Jeff eased him back again into the passengers side.

“I wane to go home.” Tom said in a kind of sober voice.

“Okay I’ll take you there and if you still aren’t feeling alright I’ll take you to the hospital.” Jeff said soothingly.

“No, no, no. I don’t want to go anywhere, just home.” Tom told Jeff. Jeff eased of the clutch aiming his corvette into traffic. A mile later they stopped outside Tom’s apartment. It wasn’t fancy or even a luxury condo-apartment but it was home. And it required a key and password to get inside the building.

“Where are . . .?” Tom was muttering before Jeff jumped out and to his friends side of the car, incase Tom felt sick again, and he was beginning to smell.

“Here we are Tom, home sweet home.” And he pulled off the belt that wasn’t even clicked tight. He put out his strong hands; Tom held them and Jeff pulled his body out of his Vet.

“Here we are!” Jeff said again leaning Tom at the lock. Tom just stared at it this time.

“Is this the hospital?” Tom asked.

“No. Not unless you’re feeling alright.” Jeff said reassuringly.

(cont_)

"Good Luba song," I muttered in someone's ear. And then the next band takes on the stage, "not bad, but wish I could sing." I thought.

Then, "You rock!" a boy shouts aloud at the top of his lungs, before the next band appears, you can see this rocker is looking into his crowd. But everyone enjoying all the music are in their backs of their mind having a rock awaiting. Waiting for the opening acts to end.

Boom! Amanda steps out on the stage ten minutes late, with no apology and breaks out into ultimate rock rhythms, familiar songs. Ten thousand people standing or sitting are chanting to her lyrics, applauding and cheering in union. It's now a rock concert! Thanks Amanda!

lol, that poor guy in pink, Davis you sure know how to write a funny story. haha

These are stories that are ALWAYS less than 75 words. Today's topic is Concert.

You may write your story to be a really short self story, personal mystery or experience. It can be anything

In some families there are a branch named septs. Somewhere in somebody's family tree there is famous dudes who have become historical geniuses. One great person was the inventor of the phone, Bell. Dude who accepts anyone not using the phone, you know, reach out and touch someone, remember who they are!

it's cool

With a stamp I wear thee dubbed, to a place to undergo perpetual change, here I go. I’m dropped into a mail box with great faith, I know I will be picked through the sorting system and sent to my designation. The slot above seems cold, and lurks down to me at the same time I feel life of its being filled of frustration of others looking to drop more weight on me. Here it comes, the box is opening, I now have the hands reaching in to take me. I’m being stuffed in a lumpy bag and carried away.

Compete in the next race and win, win win! Victory without disgrace and in the finals wipe up the field until its without sponges or souls of the defeated, triumph past expectation! Step out there and do a thing! Go past the no return! Without stops and until the end! Compete!

good going Sunny!

Chandani wrote: "I like the topic pink :)"

tanks

Instructions:
Please do not use a story previously used on goodreads. After the week's contest, you are welcome to put it on your profile writings, but please refrain from using stories you have already put on there.

You have until Saturday afternoon to post a story on here. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. Also, please do not discuss stories on here. You must go to Weekly Short Story Contest Discussion for that. This will avoid any clutter and confusion, so that people can simply come on here and read the story, without having to read comments on the story.

This week's Topic is Pink. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. You may write about colors, plants/fragrant flower, etc. You may use variant meanings, decorate with holes, using pinking shears, stabbing skin with a weapon, use pink as a noun like Pink elephants or pink-slip, about anything or just have the word in the story.

Weekly stories must be at least 500 words long to 2,500 words long. (if the whole story won't fit in one post, divide it into two)

Good luck!

Arthur [acting for Clare:]

P.S. PLEASE say if you would like to have your story on Short Story Galore, if you win. This way it wouldn't take me ages to get your consent afterwards. This includes adding a link to your stories. If you want to have your story on the Short Story Galore, but not the link, just say so.