Thursday, August 4, 2016

Short Tales

     So it has been a while since I've posted anything here.  Busy with life and things that seem more important.  But I have managed to get some writing in here and there at work.  I have been listening watching or more accurately listening to the YouTube channels that narrate the creepy pasta tales and scary stories posted on Reddit. On of the things that really amused me was the 1 sentence horror stories.  I thought I could try my hand at it.  I'm not good enough to create one with a single sentence but I did write a few down which are just a few sentences. Some of them aren't really horror more suspense or mystery but I like them.

     A few of these were written in my comedy journal, really just a writing journal I carry in my bag, I use it to jot down ideas for jokes, or just thoughts, random crappy ideas for stories.  Most of which don't go anywhere.  Like if I had the time or commitment to work on them I would turn them into novels, but I don't.  I digress, the best part about these tales is they are just blurbs, that don't need to go any further than they already have.  So I can post them as completed works.  Here we go.

  •      She missed the last thing he said, it was caught in the wind as she stepped from the ledge

  •      The first thing he wondered when he woke  up was "how much did I have to drink last night." The next thing he wondered was how he was going to hid her body.

  • She lay on the park bench listening to the birds chirp.  The sun was setting and it grew darker around her, was that really the sun setting at 2:00 pm, or just her life leaving as the pills took hold.

  •   She heard a snap of a twig behind her, she turned to look in that direction. There was nothing , the paranoia was only natural, her small female form alone in the woods.  She turned back and continued to feast on her latest victim.

  • He looked into the mirror, examining the color of his eyes, looking closely at every detail in them,  It had been so long since he had taken a host with green eyes.

  • He was stopped at the stop sign his bike rumbling as he put his foot down, the motor drowning out all other ambient sounds.  Out of the corner of his helmet, he saw shadows dancing in a jerking motion in the street lights.  He drove on ignoring it, The rev of the engine blocking out her cries for help as it faded into the darkness.

  • She poured the wine into the glasses, checking over her shoulder to where he was in the living room.  She added the shining liquid to the glass on her left her hand trembling.  There was a sudden crash from the kitchen. She saw the cat had knocked over several items in the pantry.  She rushed over to scold it and pick up the mess.  As she turned back to see him handing her a glass with a smile on his face.

  • Her mouth was dry and her feet hurt from the walking, the sun was beating down as the cicadas chattered away,   The light was so bright that all the shadows ere much deeper.  As she passed over the bridge she heard a splash in the shallow creek below.  She peered over the bridge to see what could have made it.  The deep shadows hid the view under the bridge, only the ripples in the water lapping at the banks could be seen.  As she leaned over to get a better look, all the sound of the chattering cicadas stopped.  The silence was abrupt and jarring, she looked around at the trees.  Soon she notices that the silence as complete.  No birds, No flowing creek, no foot steps as she turned around looking for the cause.  Only the splashing was audible.  She looked back for the source of the splashing, she saw it.  It was herself, her body was half in the creek half against a rock, her skull split open, her legs twitching in the water.  She stared at the sight, as the shadows grew deeper and spread around her, blocking out the light.
That's all I have done, let me know what you think, maybe I'm really bad at this, maybe I'm better than I think.  I'm just flexing that kind of creative muscle that needs to be flexed.  It's harder to get a moving tale in a shorter format than it is to write it out in a detailed novel.  Since all my story ideas end up going nowhere I figured these would be something I can say I completed. 

You like me because I'm a scoundrel
     Ian