Good day to all you @bananafish -ians, and those of you who might be joining us for the first time, for another day of Finish the Story Contest. You gave me permission to do something crazy and I did it.
I went to that strange island, found that bloke who took all of our treasure after stealing the secret plans held within the quest and had finished tying the last knot.
All was going well until I ran into the local natives who accused me of being a Christian who came there to kill them with the diseases they were not immune to and put me in a prison. For years, I slept on stone ground, ate what the rats ate, and endured many nights with that ... smell. However, I dug out a hole to the ocean and made my escape on a raft, only to be hoisted by a large wave onto a small island.
I ran across pirates who offered me a deal: (1) Kill this one, the thief, and you get to join the crew, or, (2) He kills you and he stays on the crew. My heart won't let me mindlessly kill but I couldn't tell him that.
I took my stance. He was ready to kill. He lunged. I bested him with a slight spin, an arm grab with a twist, and his knife fell in the sand. I was an eagle grabbing a mouse with my talons.
I explained to the leader that I wasn't there to take the life of a good man. He was useful. "Keep him and me. That gives you two able-bodied and skilled men." The leader agreed.
My new companion, @salvao thanked me and said, "we have to write together." That, we did.
Try a Game in The Hall
"Five.. twenty-eight.. twenty-two.. twelve.. seventy-nine.."
The marker's mottled surface is like that of a glass marble. It's hard to say where it starts and where the woman's fingers end. It flies on the large bingo card: a tablecloth covering the entire table, whose borders move in a capricious Moebius ribbon. Slender curls emerge rhythmically on the plasticised surface each time the marker grazes it. Now, the instrument is obeying to the imposed angle and pressure, producing the sound of a cat tongue licking a window. Between a number and the other, the woman clings to that image like a castaway anchoring to a slimy rock.
"Thirty .. thirty-one.. ninety-eight.. sixteen .. forty .."
The room has no windows but its walls are brightened by an arabesque of pulsating lines. When the plot detaches from the walls, it innervates on the orange rug and converges on a humanoid obelisk in the center of the hall. Thin wrists flex in synchrony, marking the numbers on the tablecloths every time that the obelisk punctuates them in a propagating fibrous echo. The fleshy organ of this creature is the only hallmark in an otherwise completely smooth mannequin's face. Its mouth unfolds through a complete circumnavigation of the dull head. Its lips are the valves of an agonizing oyster.
"Six .. thirty-three .. sixty-six .. eighty-six .. forty-one .."
The woman's slender fingers move a lock of hair back to the ear. In the time of a sigh, a caress lingers on her temple without the marker losing its rhythm. Sometimes, a new customer enters and takes a seat at a table sinking into one of the faux leather chairs. Soon enough, his face will begin to melt, dripping on the card's elusive signs, becoming one with them. In one of those ephemeral moments between a number and the other, the woman was able to raise her head and glance beyond the bingo door. The outside is the mute vowel of a blinding white expanse.
Sometimes, she struggles to remember her arrival. A cat licking a window reappears in her mind until a number sweeps it away. If there were windows in the hall, would that white nothing leak through them and fill the hall?
"Eighty-one .. thirteen." All in a sudden, the electricity of a look runs through her. It's a man from the table nearby. "..ty .. ninety-two.."
The marker hesitates in mid-air barely enough to make her lose a number.
It happened twice before. Losing a number ... The first time was when they were twelve He entered the room holding onto his grandmother’s hand. They sat across the way from her, her mother and grandmother. It was obvious to her that he’d never played bingo before when he looked at the jumbled mess before him and impatiently started marking numbers. His hands and voice trembled with excitement and his eyes sparkled like a kid at an amusement park for the first time.
She wondered if he was reading her thoughts tonight. It was the first time he’d ever looked at her like that in all the years they’ve come to this hall.
The image of her second time missing a mark took center stage at the forefront of her mind.
Everyone was playing “Bonanza Bingo”. The caller sent an unstoppable barrage of numbers spiraling one after the other, which can be likened to a thousand armies with battering rams slamming against a castle door. She gave up trying to keep up the pace with the caller and instead watched him. He was about to complete one of his cards when a premonitory twinge (at least that's what she thought) assaulted him in the exact center of his heart, paralyzing the beat that had for quite some time become a millimeter regularity. His heart stopped for a second time shortly after for a fraction of a second, barely noticeable, but stopped. She had caught it happening again a couple of times over the years, but he didn’t seem to give it much importance.
Not once in twenty years had he spoken to her. When she’d tried initiating a conversation, he’d run away. Tonight was different.
The man looked at her, attempting to lock eyes for more than a mere glance. He wasn’t quickly looking away like he’d done in the past. Sheepishly averting her gaze down, she immersed herself within the dots. A maze of sunflowers formed on the table. Behind her, the cat vigorously licked the window. When the cat let out a painful cry, she knew it had lost its tongue. She turned her head to see the tongue dangling from the glass pick. Bright white light mixed with the blood and scattering throughout her mind like stars peeking through the clouds.
A bead of sweat tickled her chin. Looking back up at him, the expression on his face was that of someone who was sure that his purpose was about to be fulfilled. He was dressed entirely in black. His elegant bull-skin hat hung from the chair’s armrest, standing out against the ever fading black background. He grabbed it slowly as he stood up.
She wanted to get out of there, disappear, although surely it was already too late for that. She sat paralyzed, static in the stillness, like a stone waiting to be hit by a hammer that may never fall.
He casually strolled up to her table, never letting his eyes waver from hers. She smacked her lips and tapped the marker rapidly on the table. He went to open his mouth, but, before he could utter a word, he grabbed at his heart and fell over dead.
There are some people who are shy about entering the contest because they can't write in English that well (I don't write a lick of other languages so I know how you feel). I asked @salvao if he'd like to enter by doing a collaboration piece and he agreed. It was very fun for me to work off what he gave me in Spanish (translating it into English with google). He gave me a little bit less than 300 words and I rapped off the rest. If you are someone who would like to enter this contest but you don't have the English skills, hit me up. Let's do some collaborating.
| Previous | Finish the Story Contest | Entries | ||
|---|---|---|---|---|
| The Town That Changed | Even the Clouds Smile | The Border | Horror Vacui | |
| Black Star | Quitting Life | LER | It Awakens | |
| Apocalypse and Pretzels | Metallic Kisses | Curie upvoted The Battle of Bloodneck Valley | Awakening | |
| Curie Upvoted Obstinancy | The Last Will and Testament of Geralda Connors | Curie Upvoted Pirate Hunters | Spoon-fed Memories | Lucid Dream |
| The Taste of Chicken | Curie upvoted Hunt More Precious Than a Green Stone | Kayla | Curie Upvoted The story of Mr. Renhe Ren | Second Prize Winner Blue Inferno for Tres Culos |
| Leitner |
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A project with me and the bananafish knights is yours to quest in.
Although the riddle has been solved by a magnificent sleuth, Quest in the Realms is out for you to explore.
[created by @ brisby]
Tools:
- The Most Dangerous Writing App - Continue typing or get a red screen.
- Grammarly - Check your work.
- Hemmingway App - Check your work again.
- List of 21 sites. Photos that you can use freely in your blog posts.
twenty-four-hour short story - You gotta be quick to get this one posted in time. He posts the contest on Sunday (usually) and ends it about 48 hours later. This contest has a 2000 word limit.
Finish the Story Contest - The contest begins on Wednesday (usually) and ends 5 days later. This contest will test your write skills with something a little different each week. Plenty of time to write something around the 500 word mark.
Steem Monsters Common Card Fantasy Story Contest! - Coming out roughly every week. If you enjoy card games like Magic, Yugio, and others like it, you might like this game. Write a fictional tale about the card they present in the contest and your entry just might be the one they choose to showcase.
Tell A Story To Me, And Win 5 SBD! Writing Contest - Kind of random when it comes out but don't worry. You will have two weeks to complete your work of art from the given prompt. Have fun!
Haiku - These are coming out every couple days or so. If you struggle with rhymes, no worries. Haikus don't have to rhyme. All you need to make a haiku is five syllables on the first, seven syllables in the second line, and again back to five syllables for the last line. So easy it makes me think I'm being super productive. LOL
Mizu No Oto - Every Image Has Its Haiku Contest - By reading the title, you should be able to guess how this haiku contest works. You're given an image and you write. I've really enjoyed this contest because there are people here who've actually gone to classes to learn how to write haiku's; so if you want, you also can learn how to write quality haikus from reading the comments and critiques they and others give.
Micro-Fiction Writing Contest - This is a fun challenge. You get two-hundred and fifty words to tell a story or vignettes. Here is a great post that will explain the difference between the two concepts. Here is another post explanation of what a story is. Good luck, Brave Story Writer!
Vocab-Ability 1x1 - What happens is you are given a list of roots and the words they can be found in. You create a sentence using those words and post in the comment section of the post. Your upvote for your creative work will come soon. One of the best ways to increase your vocabulary is by doing these 10-15 minute exercises almost daily. What craziness will you create?