Category: writing prompts

For the Greater Good

Chris Hall14 Comments
For the Greater Good by Chris Hall lunasonline
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Great Being Five gazed up at the three Superior Beings in Interview Chamber 4. She didn’t have to be told why she was here.

She had contravened the non-interference protocol¹, deleted one of her planets² and banished a fellow Being to the furthest corner of the universe³.

There was silence in the Chamber.

Five reflected on her transgressions. She must justify her actions.

She flung out a mind-picture of how she’d saved her lovely blue Planet Earth. One US president accidentally falling from the top of his own building had prevented the outbreak a third world war. It had only been a tiny tweak.

She visualized the moment when, years later, she’d reluctantly activated the total destruction of Planet Earth. It had been for the Greater Good. Those wicked little humans were about to infect another planet.

As for the fate of the odious Great Being Nineteen: who’d missed him with his destructive ways? Probably someone he owed money to. If anyone had contravened…

ENOUGH!

The thought-wave almost knocked her out of her chair.

The room vibrated as the Supreme Beings mind-melded.

Five gripped the arms of her chair.

Great Being Five, we are filing a guilty verdict.

Five braced herself.

However, your justifications are accepted.

You are assigned to the Academy for Wisdom.

* * * * * * *

Five sat expectantly in the big red chair in her shiny new office. Her screen flashed.
Assignment:
Great Being Nineteen – Re-education. Take all the time you need.

Five smiled. This was going to be fun!

 

Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #29

The challenge this week was interview.

——————————
¹ Accident on Earth
² And Finally She’d Pulled the Plug
³ A New Dawn

 

Casting Woes

Chris Hall36 Comments

what do you see 12 by chris hall lunasonline

‘You’ve got me an audition for what?’ Freya stared at her agent in disbelief. ‘You are joking aren’t you?’ A neat curlicue of steam issued from her purple nostrils.

Jed Talent hurried across the room and flung open the office window. ‘Unikitty is big time, Freya.’

‘I’m a serious actress,’ Freya huffed. ‘I will not work in some Lego toy spin off.’ She raked a purple-painted talon across the arm of the capacious couch on which she was perched.

‘Sometimes we have to take what we can get, sweetie.’ Jed returned to his leather-upholstered armchair. ‘After your disastrous audition for G.O.T…’

Freya pouted. Her spiky tail began to twitch; the glass-topped coffee table in front of her rattled ominously.

‘Okay, okay.’ Jed held up his hands in surrender. ‘Not Unikitty.’

‘Well?’ Freya’s eyes smoldered. ‘What else have you for me?’

‘Rainbow Butterfly Unicorn Kitty?’

‘What’s with the unicorns, Jed? I’m a dragon!’ Freya snorted, issuing a shower of sparks from her nostrils.

Jed eyed the resulting scorch mark on his thick shag pile carpet.

‘You want me to dress up in drag?’

‘Unicorns are where the big-time is at, sweetie.’ Jed ran his fingers through his thinning hair.

‘If that’s the best you can do, I’m finding myself a new agent!’ Freya stood up and swept from the room, her tail overturning the coffee table as she went.

Jed sighed as he watched Freya fly off from his office window, her dazzling blue wings framed against the giant Hollywood letters.

Written in response to Sadje’s What Do You See #12 photo prompt.
Photo credit: Flickr

Read more about Freya’s story in The Audition

Don’t look back

Chris Hall14 Comments

Don't Look Back by Chris Hall lunasonline

Look away, my love. Remember it as it was. Listen to the birdsong swelling in a clear blue sky, hear the insects hum, feel the joy of the new lambs dancing in our fresh green fields.

Fix it in your mind. Our little farmhouse with its pretty garden. Smell the lavender you planted by the door, feel the cool breeze on your skin as it flutters the flower-sprigged curtains which you made last summer.

Let us go now, my love. Don’t look back. Let us leave this black and broken land and find a place where we can start anew.

 

Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #28

The challenge this week was damage.

Game on, Sinead!

Chris Hall22 Comments

what do you see 11 by chris hall lunasonline

Sinead had fought and won. Finally, the Sword of Elshain, the second of the four Sacred Artifacts, was hers. The first, the Crystal of Nor, was safely tucked in her unicorn’s saddle bag, and he, Moonsprite, had gone on ahead over the dark mountain, while she followed the sunset path into its heart to find the fabled Blue Orb.

She pressed on into the gathering darkness, a halo of bats swooping and calling her onwards. The Sword began to glow, lighting her way. All she had to do was hold her nerve and follow the words of The Prophesy.

Without warning, Sinead was plunged into darkness. The silence pressed in on her.

No sight, no sound.

*    *    *

‘Arrrgh!’ Sinead screamed out in frustration. ‘Damn these power cuts. That was the furthest I’ve ever got: Level 9.’ She sighed and groped around for her head torch. Its beam cast a hollow light over the dark and silent computer screen.

She picked up her book and ran her fingers over the embossed lettering on the cover: The Prophesy.

Written in response to Sadje’s What Do You See #11 photo prompt.
Photo credit: Pixabay

What lies beneath?

Chris Hall23 Comments

Remington Portable Typewriter

The night is still. Down in the village of Little Sidebottom on the Marsh, all is quiet. The streets are deserted and the houses in darkness, even though it’s not yet eleven o’clock. The residents of this quaint picture-postcard village, in the heart of the quintessentially English countryside, are of the ‘early to bed’ variety, although not necessarily in their own beds.

Under the village’s bucolic exterior lies a hotbed of vice, murder and worse.

Who will be the next victim? Will they die by pistol, blade or poisoned cup?

Agatha’s fingers hover over the keyboard, poised for action.

Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #27

The challenge this week was village.

Author’s note
I’m a great fan of Agatha Christie. I recently came across this article about her writing habits: https://tonyriches.blogspot.com/2014/02/agatha-christies-writing-habits.html
I was interested to discover I have quite a lot in common with her way of working.

Over here!

Chris Hall22 Comments

what do you see 10 by chris hall lunasonline

It wasn’t his ideal choice of job, but Jim had been desperate. He didn’t really understand why the clown outfit was necessary, or the balloons which sent him off balance.

All he’d been asked to do was stand on the hillside and wave.

But when the shooting started, he realised.

Written in response to Sadje’s What Do You See #10 photo prompt.
Photo credit: Alexey Avdeev

Beyond her comfort zone

Chris Hall9 Comments
Apocalypse by Cliff Davies
Apocalypse by Cliff Davies

Modern art glares at her from the gallery walls. Does it demand her praise or merely crave her understanding? She pauses before a blood-red canvas, a slash of blue and two blobs of green, created by a modern Scottish artist of whom she’s never heard. Should she have done?

She feels the assistant’s snooty gaze rest on her as she crosses the room, her footsteps echoing on the stark white floor. The centre-piece sculpture rears up menacingly; a hooded man, a gaping maw. Does his expression reflect the artist’s angst?

She’s seen enough.

Out on the street she meanders past a few shops but none can tempt her within. She crosses the road. The city’s unfamiliar and she’s just killing time before her train leaves.

Then she sees it.
The display beckons.
She quickens her step.

Soon she’s inside perusing the shelves and bathing in the gladdening glow of beautiful books.

Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #26

The challenge this week was literature.

With apologies to galleries and gallery staff – I used to work in one!

Catch a falling star

Chris Hall28 Comments

what do you see 9 by chris hall lunasonline

‘Okay, kiddo, you might come from a long line of lovable Disney characters but…’

Dumbo Olivier III held the phone away from his large crinkly ear and let his agent drone on. From the hotel bar where he was standing, he could see the pool area where a couple of tasty elegirls were frolicking. One of them caught his eye and beckoned playfully to him.

‘Dumbs!’ his agent’s yell caught his attention, ‘you listening?’

He put the phone back to his ear. ‘Yeah, yeah. Go on.’ He fiddled with the swizzle-stick in his empty cocktail glass.

‘You’re gonna fall off the Disney money train if you carry on like this!’ his agent continued. ‘Just lay off the booze and the chicks for a month or so. Keep your trunk out of the snow… you know what I’m sayin’ kiddo?’

‘Yeah, okay man. I’ll tone it down.’

‘I’ll book you into the Betty Ford Clinic if you don’t behave yourself.’

The young Disney star sighed. ‘All right, already!’

‘Towel yourself off, kiss the girls goodbye and get down to the studio now. I’ve got some cute photo shoots lined up for you.’

‘Cute shoots with girls?

‘Yeah, kiddo. Something like that.’

Written in response to Sadje’s What Do You See #9 photo prompt.
Photo credit: Yo

Those Useful Things

Chris Hall14 Comments

Useful Things by Chris Hall lunasonline

Charity Jones was a collector of things. She started small: buttons and bows, needles and pins, those little bits and pieces a person often needs.

She kept them neatly; jars and tins filled her cupboards.

She had books for cooks and pots and pans, mixing bowls and fancy cake stands. Cauldrons for witches and… well, that’s when it got out of hand.

There were reports in the neighbourhood of eyeless newts and earless bats, headless chickens and missing cats.

It was quite a while before they caught her.

So, beware of little old ladies with sharp eyes and overstuffed cupboards.

 

Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #25

The challenge this week was charity.

The Eye of the Beholder

Chris Hall27 Comments

What do you see 8

‘They look so realistic! It’s bronze isn’t it?’ she steps forward reaching out to touch the arm of the nearest figure.

‘You shouldn’t touch…’

She pulls her hand back.

‘…remember in the Tate with the Henry Moore?’

‘But this is outdoors, exposed to the elements.’ She paces around the sculpture of the warrior bearing his fallen comrade in his arms. ‘The detail’s so fine!’ Unable to stop herself, she brushes her fingers across the shoulder of the upright warrior. The metal is cold and hard. She knocks against it gently with a knuckle. ‘I wonder who they are?’

‘Who they were, you mean.’

She rolls her eyes. ‘There must be a plaque or something.’ She crouches down, running her hand over the calf muscle of the warrior’s left leg. ‘What about the leaflet they gave us?’

He fishes in his pocket and hands her the crumpled guide to the castle, before strolling off towards the battlements. Sculpture’s never really been his thing and he finds the pair, posed together as they are, strangely unsettling.

The print on the leaflet is small. She walks over to a nearby bench, fumbling in her bag for her reading glasses and dropping the leaflet as she does so. As she bends to pick it up, she hears a loud yawn. She glances around, but no one’s there.

It hits her like a mallet.

The statues have moved.

She retreats, catching herself as the back of her knees make contact with the bench. She sits abruptly, never taking her eyes off the two statues.

The warrior has unburdened himself of his comrade and is stretching magnificently. His back is turned towards her and she can see every muscle and sinew rippling across his back. In one fluid movement his companion rises from the ground and stands facing her.

Living statues, like the ones they’d seen in Barcelona? But she’d just touched one and it was cold and hard.

The eyes of the statue facing her widen; his mouth drops open.

She freezes.

He puts a hand on his companion’s arm; he turns. Eyes lock on hers.

A long moment is frozen in time.

A loud whistle distracts her; she hears him calling her name. She looks up and sees him waving to her from the castle walls. When she returns her gaze to the statues; they have resumed their original pose.

She rises and approaches, raising a hesitant hand. Cold, hard and immovable; but she didn’t imagine it.

Did she?

She starts to walk away, then turns, staring at the two figures. Then she realises what’s changed.

‘You switched places!’ she accuses, raising a finger. ‘I know it!’

The statues remain impassive.

Footsteps approach from behind her. ‘You’re not talking to them are you?’ he says. He puts his arm around her. ‘You’ll be telling me you’ve had a conversation with them next,’ he laughs.

She smiles up at him and turns to leave, casting one last glance at the sculpture.

The upright warrior winks.

 

Written in response to Sadje’s ‘What Do You See #8′ photo prompt.