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

Arthur’s comments from the Short Story Contests group.

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 Casting. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. This could mean a lot as using molds, fishing lines, stage performances casting, or even throwing some object off for good. Etc. You could write about pretty much anything. 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.

Congratulations Clare, winning this week's short story with the most votes.

These are stories that are always less than 75 words. Today's topic is Italian.

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

You have until Sunday afternoon to post a poem on here before the Topic changes. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. You're welcome to discuss poems on here also.

This week's Topic is Obsess. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Poetry Topic Objections post.


Poems can be as long and short as you want them to be. This is not a contest, it's just for fun and to show off our own poetry.

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

You have until the last day of each month 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 the Picture 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 is a Picture contest. There will be a picture posted for the month’s topic, and although there are no rules as to what you should write about, we hope that this picture will inspire a story. This contest is different from the weekly contest, also, because in this contest you have the ability to post your stories in parts. For instance, you could post a small part of your story each week. That will give you more time to work, and it won’t be as much pressure on you all to get it done in a hurry. This dividing the story system will also enable the writer to keep their readers on edge until they post more of the story, that way it will pull more readers into the story. Also, there is no need to post the story into parts if you don’t want to. You can post the whole thing at once, or in as many parts of the story as you want in each monthly contest, but each new section must be over 500 words. There is no total word limit, as long as each entry is over 500 words. At the end of the month there will be a poll and a winner. The winner will have to option to have their story on the Short Story Galore website, and the page of winning stories here on Goodreads.


Topic Picture:


If you have an objection to this picture, go to the Picture Contest Discussion page (http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1...). Also, we do not own any rights to these pictures, they have been taken of places such as Google Images. If you would like to suggest a picture, please go here for some info on that: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1...

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, please just say so.

Let's vote. Go to the poll or see the bottom of the home page of Short Story Contests to see the featured poll, either will be fine. And vote for your favorite story for this week. Please don't vote for yourselves.

((This contest is now closed. Please do not submit stories unless you don't want it seen by readers.))

you have until Sunday night to vote

there's a new topic pick for next week. Please submit to More Weekly Contest Topic Suggestions under it's heading at our homepage or simply click: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/6...

Which is where Derajj will remain. Only because of an over flow in the prison and staff shortages and talk of closing it if regulations were not abided and the fact that Derajj was quiet he found out today he was being transferred to another institution for the quieter mentally unstable inmates.

Only after ten years of false imprisonment did Derajj step out of Rasaca. A long cargo van wearing drove up and he was pushed while wearing customary hand cuffs and in chains for prisoners. Four hours later the cargo van was being swept up by a river after it plunged into the icy cold water.

The news covered the accident on TV. The bridge collapsed caused by poor road service funding that brought justice in the eyes of a man becoming a savage by daylight. For a prisoner of Resaca should never have seen daylight again.

The two drivers were instantly crushed by the fall. A body floated out of the cargo van. The cargo van from its accident air bags was keeping it afloat. Picking the chain was impossible only one of the guards had each key. Derajj tried each until the cuffs slid off. He couldn’t find a key to the chain around his feet. He wouldn’t be able to swim.

He looked out of the cargo van and saw they were floating against the bank. He also saw the helicopter shooting footage from a camera high above at a safe distance. It was News 5.

He floated himself out a broken door and then sank. His body made a bubble ring as he went under. His body would never be found. They would think a prisoner had died with the two guards. Only he found a straw from a coke can and a mile off in the river he was alive. When Derajj knew he was in the clear he got out of the river and dried himself in the sun. He had no shoes so was slow. There were some noises and he ran behind the copse nearby where he fell over a girl. She made a tiny squeal in protest as he landed on top of her. Her name was Leena.

Leena was a rebel. She was brave and took no offense to this bare foot long haired man whom she rescued by chance when she and her men struck the bridge in an act of rebellion. She didn’t know they had a prisoner for sure but the rebels of Green Copse hoped there was.

She was like the other men in this copse. They wore camouflage. Hide in the trees at night. This is where they hide their fortune. They hide their children here too. And they hide their food and tents in the copse.

Derajj was brought to one of the tents. It was state of the art in ways for invisibility in the trees.

“Meet Derajj.” Leena said. “We found him in the river. He survived the bridge collapse.” A soggy wet man with no shoes and long unbrushed hair stood almost six feet tall. He was stocky but thin. He had gray eyes and ashen black skin.

Here was a band of merry men. All rebels for the cause in freedom. All with grudges against the rulership of government of Danni. No man in Danni has freedom to choose.

His hair took a long time to grow that long and pale. It could have been longer then this unit of rebels here are. They had a feeling of a need to trust Derajj. Leena took him to a bath next where she watched him shave off three feet of hair.

Leena looked at him when he turned around. His eyes were definitely gray only his skin revitalized and she now saw how good looking Derajj had been. She smiled at his face.

She gave him some food. They sat drinking from a plastic bottle she brought. It was kind of citron-lime, a beverage they make with water and lemons and limes from the trees.

He told her his life story. Eventually they were next to a gamma heater as the night settled on them. The bugs were getting a bit at the people and one by one they went into their tents for the night.

An evening together was all it would take for the citron-lime take an effect on Derajj. A love potion was in it. Leena didn’t want Derajj to leave, ever. She loved him.

The morning was a brisk and cool beginning. Derajj used to his dreams woke quickly when he heard movement outside his tent. He dressed and went outside. The first sun rise he had ever seen since Resaca. He stood until he noticed a gathered group tiredly talking in themselves. He went over and Derajj began moving gaily about with the others talking and listening about the stuff they did in the rebellion. And learning how they fought when a boy came with a message. A leader unfurled it. Jock read it with importance then tied back up the message and stuffed it in a tube strung to his belt.

“They saw Derajj’s body sink to the bottom of the river. They do not go looking for him, he is free.” Jock said. They all gave him a cheer.

“Another matter presses us my brothers. We must try and get these medical supplies to Ktown. We will need seven people. Choose among you and leave.” Jock directed. “one may not carry any weapons and must be fast. Ktown needs those supplies.”

Derajj raised his hand fist. Five other men and a tiny woman named Maria who was a nurse also were first to volunteer.

Derajj had strange memories of Leena in his dreams and when he woke he was in love. He wanted to stay with this rebellious unit. He wanted to prove to them he could be successful. They left carrying two plastic crates of supplies to Ktown.

When Leena woke she moved around getting a good circulation for her blood had to much lead in it. She also looked around for Derajj but she didn’t see him at all. She thought he would be up before now.

She couldn’t wait any longer. She couldn’t bare thinking he wasn’t there at the camp. That he rose in the night and disappeared before her charm took effect. Or that the life in a prison hardened men beyond love. She asked Jock where Derajj was. Jock was stuffing a message a new boy gave to him. “What does it matter?” Jock asked in response. “It’s bad now.” He said.

“What’s bad Jock, what have you done?” she asked worried.

“The Cyclopes are heading to Ktown. I have sent seven unit rebels with medical supplies and I’ve told them to hurry.” He said.

“Oh no, will that mean the Cyclopes will kill all seven.” She wondered.

“You know no one can escape Cyclopes.”

“And I sent Derajj.” Jock said.

“Get to him and tell him not to go!” she screamed in his face.

The end.

Name: Ides of Absence
Words: 1,755
By: Arthur
Notes:

*** ** *** ** *** ** ***


Ides of Absence

Derajj woke. He had the best memories when he is asleep. The memories come back like dreams, only these are of people no longer. He remembers his father sometimes in his dreams.

“Where are you dad?” said Derajj.

“Usually he comes when I have a nightmare.” Derajj thought. He was shook and waiting for his door to open. Derajj found he still waited. Derajj in his case in need of sleep fell back to sleep on his own.

That evening he woke to see his father sitting at the table. He too was too tired to speak. Derajj then was lifted into his chair by his mother Luba. She helped her two year old steady. Derajj rubbed an eye. Maybe yawn. Derajj’s father made a synopsis of the situation in hand. The boy needed to learn to take his naps without waking for now on and would no longer give him the attention.

Derajj rose up from his bunk. He went to the end of the boundary of his cell. At this end of wall sat a trunk and it was only bare of anything. He never filled it with his clothes. Those were strewn often all over. But now he never receives a change of clothes except perhaps once a week. He had to give back the ones he wore before he was handed his new wear.

He rubbed his left hand where his scar is. It’s a soft black inking and welts from around the wrist all the way to his elbow marking him with a long number for thieves 378-987-0-12-5437. There is digit identification for crooks.

He’d smiled only if he had been still a citizen to see him now. The acid burn and inking still felt like a burn and was still painful. This welling up of the skin was irreparable. Derajj would never leave the prison and he his hands over his face sitting at the end of his bunk, where he will remain until he sleeps. This is a man who hears the voices from long ago of when he was accused. Once arrested, “Stop! Drop that rune.” And those guards and their painful rods that struck him in his hand, crippling him out of action, leaving him stunned. As if men suspected were as good as guilty. If only he was guilty. If only he hadn’t found the rune and wondered how it got there.

Derajj pleaded not guilty. Court day didn’t coincide well. All the good court judges go on statutory holiday on Ides. This particular case was presented in their absence. October 15th a defense minister was assigned the case. The defense minister pleaded guilt for the crime to prevent his ‘client’ from returning to society. The judge listened to his evidence even while Derajj was denied making a not-guilty plea to the minister representing him.

The judge underestimated Derajj. And was uninterested in Derajj but rushed through the evidence and sentenced the mad rambling Derajj to life imprisonment for the thief of a rune which Derajj claimed he only found. Life imprisonment did not mean getting parole in Danni. Danni was a country without freedom of any kind. A life sentence was just that life in a dark cell alone for the rest of their lives. He was sentenced to go to Resaca an old underground train tunnel converted into a prisoner’s institution for criminally insane. You don’t need to be insane to come to Resaca.

A big snake named Jake had slithered into the garden. "Oh mommy!" yelled hesitatingly Drake. "It’s a snake!" instinctively he took a hold of a hoe and began chopping at it until it fled.
He ran into his house and saw a tall hideous woman turning a bid ladle with one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. When she turned her pot it sizzled and whooped in the kitchen air,
"where's my mommy? You’re not my mommy." Drake accused the witch looking ugly creature.
"No, but I turned her into a harmless garden snake, he he. I hope you can tell me what I need to know or I'll have to do the same to you." the witch said.
"What?" the boy said screaming back out of the kitchen to the garden.

Love of Lorne

Love the fairy princess ran down to the edge of the beach where she saw Lorne. Day after day they had secretly met to keep their secret of true love. Love’s father the king would be vengeful if he found out that his one any only daughter named Love in the entire fairy kingdom had been in love with a servant.

Here comes the king. The green emeralds jingle on his helmet, mixed with feather they hang dropping into his costume of a light cape. He has his own sword he fixes by a belt and wears high slippers. Two men rush into the room after he enters. They are dressed similarly except for the kingly crowns mounted in the king’s war helmet.

“There is no life.” Said the king as he stood. “Why should I defend my kingdom year after year against that dastardly dragon?” he asked perplexed. The dragon he refers to was born in the clouds centuries ago before the lands formed and came down in hunger every year. Once eating a fairy the dragon returned every year to Fairyland for a victim he suckles.

The king dresses in his armor and fights with the dragon. The last twenty-nine years he has fought the dragon and always has lost one of his army men. The same thing happens every year. Again the king is dressed and ready. Only this time he believes he will strike and kill that dragon. The dragon Kipper the Sun-Dragon as it is named fends off the fairies easily with fire breath. The king uses magic or potion to weaken him. Every year the dragon returns it becomes stronger. King Philip of fairies fears one year he will be too old to defend fairyland, and without his son all will be lost. His son once helped and was carried away to be suckled. That was six years ago. Without a son there are no heirs. The king must marry his daughter to a prince in fairyland and get his vengeance of Kipper, woe to Kipper.

“Where’s my daughter?” Philip asked. He had been king and couldn’t keep track of her whereabouts. Wait until he learns she is in love with a lowly servant who was probably arrogant and insane. The king would not think Lorne worthy of his daughter Love.


Chapter II

We must leave, Kipper draws close.” The king said pulling his sword belt even tighter.
“This way king.” Bald the guard said.
“I know the way Bald.” King Philip argued. “Come Bald as my guard of fairyland. Come to defend the fairies. They elected you. Only don’t peer in the eyes of Kipper before it snores at you. That is how to tell it wants what one, then he snares you in his claws and takes you away.”
“Aye, king. That is the legend of Kipper, he snares then flies where no fairy will follow. We are powerless without you king Philip. You have the scepter of fairy. You alone can defend us against Kipper the Sun-Dragon.”
“I have tried to stop this raving mad dragon for three decades, since I was crowned kind have I had the scepter and became king.” Little is known of the power of magic in fairyland. It’s a paradise lost in many ways. With a dragon lurking above them paradise lost become a matter of fairy lost. A kingdom to the mercy of a greedy dragon that diets on fattened fairies.

Chapter III

Love had on a golden frock. She was tossing pearl stones one by one into the sea. She observed the ocean tide. The sun rise. The blue sky forming over head. Her breath tightened as Lorne stepped from the near by wood. He had on a cloak to disguise himself. He drew a tiny bag untying it and taking out an apple he stole. He was hungry plus starving normally. With a tinsel dagger he drew slices from the apple one by one and offered the pieces to Love. He drew to her the power by what ever it was she emitted, was so charming he smiled in sight of her. His woven garments of love and her obvious beauty brought Lorne back every morning not wishing to leave her presence ever again. His head holds proud the clover and flower garland she made him yesterday. He only dreamed of her.

King Philip marched his men noisily through the town where they collect volunteers to come with them for when they meet the dragon. One of them would not be returning. They would all fight it. To that death of being carried of to be eaten by the dragon.

They took with them many merchants who closed their shops for the day. They were going towards Sandy Grave as it was called. A field near the wood near the sea near where Love and Lorne now stood making joviality unknowingly the army may pass.

The leader marched the men. A drum sprung up to the play of a marching tune. A flag for peace and on of the destruction of the dragon rose up. Tiny frog sized hippogriffs carried the army towards a field the dragon most liked his plucking and always returned. The fear of the dragon was spreading in the men. Anyone of them can feel a pandemonium now not natural to fairy.

Fairy had lived in peace until that fearful day a dragon appeared. It had not found anything to eat. Kicking a stone it spit at locus and other flies. As it found a town of fairies its mouth drooled. He gobbled one up. It made the dragon so full he couldn’t fly immediately. Instead it took a bath. When he dried off his wings he still found he was full and flew off.

The fairy prayed and prayed to their fairyland god to bring them a savior before it was too late. That was when Philip found the scepter. It struck out of this little grizzled stick a fierce lightning. A lightning as thick as the worse lightening storm only much worse. He didn’t really think such a weapon could be put to good use so he hid it for many days. When the town heard the screams of children running back to town and with the story of the dragon returning and gobbling a fairy they ran out to see. Only now every year Kipper returns and every year after Philip brings his lightning rod and tries strike the dragon. One day he will hit it. One day he will pass on the stick. For that he wants an heir than anyone else. One day one of his heir will learn to use the scepter and strike out lightning and end the gobbling of fairies.

Chapter IV

He army is on marching route to the field to doing battle against a ferocious dragon. Lorne hears the marching and looks to Love. “Oh no. is that today?” he screams at her.
“I don’t know. You know I don’t keep dates in my head.” She answers him. “Oh no, if any of my fathers soldier see us…”
“Not only, but he leads them.” Lorne shouts. How could he be so stupid? He had been so in love with Love and grew so used to meeting her he didn’t even know what day it really were. Now the king was approaching the beach to head to the Sandy Grave, the field.
“Oh, how stupid of me,” Love quipped. “He is going to kill us too, with that ridiculous lightning stick thing when he sees us.”

The drumming had already stopped. So had the quickness of Love and Lorne’s breath. They grew incredibly nervous as they looked up to Love’s father. He stood with a sapient grin of anger and disapproval on his face.
“What is the meaning of this?” king Philip sputtered. His men lurked around him ashamed of Love also in disapproval like the king. The others marching and volunteering sneered and exchanged rumors or acted stupid.

What the king didn’t know couldn’t hurt him was everyone’s belief. Little was understood in fairyland. A world where suddenly at any moment a dragon can fly down and gobbled up fairy. A Fairy Lost.

Guess if you'd message any instructions to my inbox Olivia I'll attempt it anyway. I love the work you do and appreciate your creating the web site.

awesome

There was a dark sea storm and lots of shells had been dragged off and on to the beaches. Felic was born. She was caught in tides and before she could open her eyes. Then suddenly Felic was swimming past a lighthouse and she could see the light of its high beam passing over the water back and forth searching for boats in distress. Then the sun came and mermaids arrived in the rear shores around coasts near woods to sing. That was how Felic next identified herself; she thought she had been a mermaid. She had no idea what she was. She swam up shore to climb up the rocks too but her fins got caught in the lines of fishermen fishing nets. Her tail instinctively flapped back and forth. She felt herself dragging and felt the heaviness of her inability to breath without being in water.

You have until Sunday afternoon to post a poem on here before the Topic changes. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. You're welcome to discuss poems on here also.

This week's Topic is Sugar. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Poetry Topic Objections post.


Poems can be as long and short as you want them to be. This is not a contest, it's just for fun and to show off our own poetry.

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 Rune. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. You could write about pretty much anything. 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.

These are stories that are always less than 75 words. Today's topic is Drag.

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

Della takes the contest and as the winner has her story posted on Short Story Galore, monitored by Clare and Olivia. Congrats Della. Though its optional, you do want it on Galore?

link 1: http://shortstorygalore.synthasite.com/

or Clare's personal Goodreads story page: http://www.goodreads.com/story/list/9...

A separate reality was all it took when I was walking through the red shift. When I woke I was red faced and drowsy and thirsty. I meet with God last night but all my counts of sins was so long he referred me to his angels. When they finished my sentence I guess they laughed a little bit and just let me go. But I still survived. I will walk some more, but there are only wasted houses gobbled up and standing in mounts of dirt. Where is everyone?

Very nice work, only one spot was confusing. It was when the rabbits arrived, and I'm no critic Stephanie.

Gotta go and Vote!

(( This concludes this weeks short story contest. Posting your stories for this topic is closed. Good luck. ))

Vote under the featured poll or select polls and find this week's poll for short stories.