Sunday, August 4, 2013

WIN an advance copy of REALITY BOY!

Photo cred: Don Lafferty
I said I'd do it on Twitter. (Follow me at @AS_King for bizarre asides and random commentary.) I will now tell you about the contest to win an advance copy of REALITY BOY.

The catch: I should update you on stuff because I do that here and if I didn't, then there would be no point in having this blog and frankly, as much as I'd dig burrowing back into my blogless hole, I won't do it...just for those few times a year I post something helpful or thought provoking.

Update #1: ASK THE PASSENGERS won the Carolyn W. Field Award! Rock it, Pennsylvania librarians. Thank you! I will see you at the luncheon in October! My speech will mention Eddie Vedder at least once.

Update #2: I'm coming to three libraries in Montgomery County, PA this coming Tuesday, August 6. Click this link to see if your library is one of them. A HUGE thank you to Children's Book World for making One Summer, One Book a reality.

Update #3: I am a week or so from sending in revisions on The Book That Now Has No Title but was formerly known as Max Black and also as Glory O'Brien's History of the Future. That's not really an update, but I make my own rules here.

Update #4: Random Pictures

When you move, you say goodbye to things.
I carried this marlin head with me for more than 20 years.
I loved you marlin head, but you were falling apart
so I threw you away after I took a few pictures of you.
Thank you for your many years of service.

Daniel Kraus, I don't know if you're reading but here is
that beloved old office all emptied out.
Fancy!

Along with the marlin head went this sign from my office.
I may regret tossing this one day.

The pagoda says hi.
Here is a picture of my new house.


So this is where the contest comes in.

Want to win an ARC of REALITY BOY? All you have to do is follow 3 little rules, and you're in. Go crazy. You have two whole weeks. 

CHALLENGE:

  1. Your story MUST start with this sentence: Janet was early. **
  2. Your story MUST end with this sentence: Of course, she didn't.
  3. Your story must be 100 words or less.
DEADLINE: Sunday August 18th at 11:59PM EST
PRIZE: A signed Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of REALITY BOY.
Please leave your entry in the comment area of this blog and don't forget your email address! 

Winner chosen by three anonymous judges, a cosmic spider and a magic 8 ball and will be announced a few days after that deadline. 

There are bonus points for sharing this contest. Let me know how you shared it after your entry.

** The author would like it known that by choosing the name Janet for the first sentence, she is not referring to any specific Janet she knows or any that you might know either. This can be any Janet. It was just the first name that came to me, and so, we're stuck with it. Your Janet can be a dolphin for all I care. The story can be in second person omniscient and be from the point of view of a microscopic skin cell that fell off Janet. Technically, Janet doesn't even have to appear again after that first sentence. I don't mind. Just tell me a story and follow the rules above, and we're good. 



97 comments:

Liviania said...

Janet was early. This was a rare occasion, and one worth celebrating. It wasn't that Janet forgot the time; she just had a habit of getting lost. (And ending up in the wrong city.) So her friend asked if she'd remembered the snacks, since this was the perfect moment for a Kit Kat. Of course, she didn't.

(inbedwithbooks AT yahoo DOT com)

Karoline said...

Janet was early. Janet was what I’d named my menstruation, having thought that this would make it seem nicer. It kind of worked, suddenly I thought of my menstruation as a girl and we had these long and intimate conversations where I provided the talking and she was a great listener, all the while bringing a hint of strawberry red into my underwear. But then again, I hadn’t wished for that. My goal was for Janet to seem nicer and with “nicer” I really meant “more subtle”. I actually mostly wanted Janet to disappear. Of course, she didn’t.
***
According to Microsoft Word this story was 98 words so I managed to stay under the limit. Yay! Cool contest and interesting blog post, have a nice day :)

karo_reader(at)hotmail.com

Sari said...

Janet was early.

She drummed her fingers on the faded pattern of ancient cut marks and what could have been stars in the shabby booth in the back.

This used to be their place.

He arrived, messy hair and unearthly green eyes, sliding in across from her. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, knowing only he could hear. “I can’t do this anymore.” His hand clenched, scratching more marks into the tabletop.

She brushed her lips against his and pressed the button. The seat dropped and he disappeared into blackness, joining the others.

She wanted to look, but of course, she didn’t.

*****

My email is thegeekinside (at) yahoo (dot) com. Thanks for the opportunity!

Annie Moore said...

Janet was early. Well, early for her. Janet had the timeliness of a rescheduled 8:15 train. We didn’t hear her come in over the clatter of the good china against our Goodwill table. The roast still had five minutes and my hair was a mess. But, when the door opened, everything went quiet. Declan ducked his gaze without thinking. Her eyes bobbed to him and the kiss he gave me as he scarpered with the salad fork he had yet to place. I waited for her to say something about him, about us. But she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t.


anniemoorebooks@gmail.com

booksandbassets said...

Janet was early. Her hands clapped together in front of her seconds before the ball smacked her in the chest. She'd been trying for weeks to learn to catch a ball.

Her aunts, only 18 months older than she was, teased her for her lack of skill. Sometimes they offered to help her practice and learn, but they didn't always have the patience for it. Today they did. At least they did until the neighborhood kids arrived for a game of baseball. She watched them go as if she didn't care.

Of course she didn't.

My e-mail is clara@spiritone.com

Elisa Romero said...

Janet was early. She had nine months but I guess she couldn’t wait and she showed up at five. She fit in the palm of my hand, still as stone and wrapped in a small, white sheet before they took her away. They said they were sorry for me, for us, for my little Janet and me. They said it wasn’t my fault. They wanted me to believe that someday, I could be happy again. Of course, I didn’t.

echo.murchison@gmail.com

Sheryl Scarborough said...

Janet was early, which I should have regarded as a sign, much like four approaching horsemen and perhaps the end of the Mayan calendar. Being late was Janet’s signature gambit. It afforded her the perfect segue into a story guaranteed to draw all attention in the room. Had I been meeting anyone but Janet I would have spotted the telltale cotton ball taped inside the crook of her arm and been sensitive to the impending news. Instead, I took a seat and scowled, waiting for her to spin the latest round of Janet hijinks. But of course she didn’t. My email is: mediasherpa [at] gmail [dot] com

Jaila Guevarra said...

Janet was early.

It was an issue. Being a completely radical anarchist, I’d planned to deface city hall with the words, “There are flaws in our government,” hoping it would enlighten the townspeople and incite revolution. Unfortunately, I overslept and Janet came early. Damn it, Janet.

Still, I sat by the window with my sharpies (Paint was too expensive, which only showed the errors in the system. In what kind of world could a jobless person living at his parents’ not afford unnecessary items?), hoping she’d go out for breakfast or something before more people arrived. Of course, she didn’t.

----------

my email is jailaguevarra@gmail.com! thanks for running the contest! (also, wow, apologies for gratuitous and back-to-back usage of exclamation points, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. also, i'm female.)

Janet Reid said...

Janet was early, but the authors had already gathered. Pine resin torches, vats of boiling oil, a professional cantor to lead the chanting. They'd cast lots to select the lucky loser. Muttering "This is too Shirley Jackson" a writer with library pallor and thesaurus stain tattoos stepped forward.

"I insist you read my fictional novel!"

Janet wanted to boil him in oil, to boil them all in oil. Instead, she waylaid the cantor, hissed instructions, mounted her broom.

She could have regretted the riot caused when "Query Barbara Poelle for fictional novels" diverted the mob.

Of course, she didn't.

lbp said...

“Janet was early,” Deena said.
“Well, frickin’ goody for Janet. It’s not like I planned a flat tire in the middle of a goddamn hurricane.” I would have slapped that perfectly waxed arch right off Deena’s eyebrow, but I was too busy taking off my soaking wet shoes and socks.
“That, is why she is the Maid of Honor and you are not, Lizzy.” Deena, my former best friend, soon-to-be sister-in-law and reigning bitch supreme tossed a towel at my feet.
I closed my eyes hoping that she would disappear out of my brother’s life instantly. Of course, she didn’t.


lesliepatient@rocketmail.com

Sharing on Facebook and Twitter! :)

lbp said...

“Janet was early,” Deena said.
“Well, frickin’ goody for Janet. It’s not like I planned a flat tire in the middle of a goddamn hurricane.” I would have slapped that perfectly waxed arch right off Deena’s eyebrow, but I was too busy taking off my soaking wet shoes and socks.
“That, is why she is the Maid of Honor and you are not, Lizzy.” Deena, my former best friend, soon-to-be sister-in-law and reigning bitch supreme tossed a towel at my feet.
I closed my eyes hoping that she would disappear out of my brother’s life instantly. Of course, she didn’t.


lesliepatient@rocketmail.com
Sharing on FB and Twitter! :)

Conni Carr said...

Janet was early. Where to sit?

Power seat next to Bueller? No, avoid the apparently-trying-to-cozy-up-to-the-man spot...can't afford that today.

End of the table? Nah, more flack from the minions...
Facing the door works. You never knew when someone might come in shooting. (It's a gunslinger thing. "I am a gunslinger-type gal!")

Ka-ching…money spot!

Coffee cooled to drinking temp. Laptop set to YouTube's latest "prancercise" parody. Bakery's last available cheese and spinach pastry that I-have-been-dying-to-sink-my-teeth-into-all-morning.

"Mind if I eat this?" the scoundrel drawls as he flows into the closest chair.

Exert control over hormones...hot flashes ensue…of course, she didn't.

conni.carr@venturausd.org

Staloch said...

Janet was early. Janet, named after my grandmother.

I rest my hands on the armrest of the couch, legs trembling. Someone has already cut the cord. Someone has taken the howling cat out of the room. And I clutch the couch looking at the floor where Janet is curled in a blue ball.

“Make her cry,” an EMT says to me. I reach down and grab her body. She looks at me, alert, happy. Perfect. Nobody told me they came out blue. I was afraid something was wrong. I thought she was going to die.

Of course, she didn’t.

marika staloch AT gmail DOT com

The Magic Violinist said...

Janet was early. She wanted to get her book signed by A.S. King.
Unfortunately, everyone else had the same plan as her. It was the dance all over again when everyone wore the same dress as her. Humiliating.
Janet waited patiently and eventually it was her turn.
"Hello," the author said. "So how'd you like Vera?"
Vera? There was no Vera in the book she'd brought.
"I loved her," Janet lied.
Later, Janet stared at the signature.
Four hours in line, and had she thought once to see if she had brought the right book?
Of course, she didn't.

themagicviolinist(AT)gmail(DOT)com

I loved this prompt! :D Thanks so much!

kregger said...

Janet was early.

She was born early and graduated from high school and college early. She was the first in her class to get married and have a child that was delivered at thirty seven weeks. The age she hit the glass ceiling was the youngest ever.

And polite? To a fault. Janet’s thank you cards were written out in advance. Her husband was even the first to disappear and found floating in the river.

She cancelled her appeals and arrived before midnight to her execution. Did she have any regrets? Her answer, “No…not lately.”

Of course, she didn’t.

kchurch15 at msn dot com

french sojourn said...

Janet was early. The tide….well the tide was running late.

She fired up the old diesel, un-cleated the Mary Lou, and took off after her husband. Jack was old school; he had placed a dozen palm sized rocks down his hip waders.

We learned our lesson from Lonzo Gilbert. Why, it must have been twenty odd years ago he was swept over the side of his lobster boat. They fished him out a half an hour later, after the seagulls had at him.

Jack’s boat went down this mornin’,

I wonder if she forgot the rocks.

Of course, she didn’t.


pettersons3 at gmail dot com

Bill Scott said...

Janet was early. Her period and husband were late. False alarm she hoped, but when the waiter's cologne made her gag, she passed on the wine.

A Nigerian husband with a vasectomy and a redheaded Irish lover — the jig was up, or would be in nine months. He took his seat, no explanation, no hello, just "Chivas neat" to the waiter and eyes to the menu.


She twisted her wedding band, stroked the canary diamond. Now was the time to tell him she didn't love him, never did. He could keep the penthouse and the money. Of course, she didn't.

Lisa Aldin said...

Janet was early. She watched the cows graze, her body chilled in the evening air. A dairy cow lifted her head and approached the fence, her tail swishing back and forth.

"You better tell him this time," the cow said.

"I know," Janet replied. She looked over her shoulder. Brian's truck sat in the gravel lot beside the barn. Brian walked toward her, waving. Oblivious to her truths.

"No chickening out," the cow said.

"That's what the chickens said."

Janet promised she would do it this time, for real, she would tell Brian about the voices.

Of course, she didn't.

lisa.aldin(AT)gmail(DOT)com

Violet Ingram said...

medennler@ameritech.net

Janet was early.

I sat across from my step-mother and tried not to stare as she sipped her tea. It tasted bitter, I knew, but now she needed me, there would be no snide comments today. She had easily believed I would donate a kidney to save my father’s life, even after he had left his wife and daughter for her. Janet had made sure he hadn’t had time for me, until now when he needed me.

He would soon be gone but today was her turn. I wondered if she suspected she’d just been poisoned.

Of course, she didn’t.

Amanda Capper said...

Janet was early. Her funeral was scheduled for 10 a.m. but due to a marijuana-induced error on the part of the funeral director's son, Janet's ashes arrived at 8:05 a.m. At the home of Janet's ex-mother-in-law. Who promptly put them in a coffee can by a dirty grey plastic lawn chair in the front yard, and proceeded to stub an early morning Export A out on Janet's remains. Did Janet care? Of course she didn't.

Amanda, ajcap@shaw.ca

Anonymous said...

Janet was early. In the third row, four seats back, Janet couldn't have picked a more inconspicuous seat for her first class back. Her earbuds in place, backpack nestled under her knees, and eyes trained on her book: Janet's message, "Please, ignore." was earnest, emphatic.

School politics, however, dictated a different homecoming. You don't just get to do what she did, at that social volume, and slink into suburbia.

So, when Billy "accidentally" kicked her backpack, and when Sorcha mouthed "slut" as she passed, did Janet scream the Truth at the top of her scarred lungs? Of course, she didn't.

thenassfamily@gmail.com

Super fun! Thanks!

Stoich91 said...

Janet was early, just in case the Hendersons were, too. You could never tell with foster parents – some were late, some were on time, some….well, Janet’s motto was better late than never.

She liked to lean way over the chair, smelling the worn leather and pressing her nose against the frosty glass. What kind of car would they drive? What kind of clothes? You can tell a lot about people just by watching them. Janet could tell everything.

In seconds, she could tell people if they had a happy marriage, a dog or a shoddy hairstylist.

Of course, she didn’t.

Rachel S. said...

Janet was early. A decade early and a whole lot less human than my mam’s favorite soothsayer foretold. Said Janet’d find me with a blaze of light, an angelic chorus, and a gentle kiss.

Blaze of light? Indisputable. The brushfire I was puttin' out lay right ‘cross the road. The angel’s voice was a dirty engine that made my fingers itch to help sing proper.

The kiss, though...

Front tire slammed my gut. Lucky she didn’t kill me.

Soothsayer lied, said she kissed gentle.

Roadside prognostication’s ‘you get what you pay for’, so, of course, she didn’t.

**

I'm instanteternity at gmail dot com. This was a delightful prompt!

Colin Smith said...

Janet was early. She dressed for attention: low-cut and slit to the thigh. She hung by the punch bowl, waiting for James to come in. The last three occasions she arrived as he was leaving, some trash hanging off his arm. This time would be different; she was ready for him. Three glasses into her wait, she heard his voice close by. Janet steadied herself, and threw a sultry gaze in his direction. James didn’t see her, but the girl on his arm did, and laughed.

They say the early bird catches the worm. Of course, she didn’t.

cds-at-colindsmith.com
I mentioned the contest on Twitter.

The Happy Amateur said...

“Janet was early.”
“Joan.”
“I just wanted to see her again. Just wanted to watch. She must have noticed, ‘cause she walked over to me. And then I looked at her face, and it was hideous. No makeup, bad skin. Nothing like my Janet.”
“It wasn’t Janet.”
“And she started saying all those ugly things about me, and threatened to call the police, and I just knew it wasn’t my girl.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I had to do something.”
“You murdered Joan, an actress who played Janet on TV.”
“I’d never hurt Janet.”
“Janet died.”
“No, officer. Of course, she didn’t.”


This is a hundred words. Thank you, it was fun!

sasha underscore palmer at yahoo dot com

Tessa said...

Janet was early. Damn. What do I do now?
I sidestepped behind the wall and winced as a thread of my sweater got caught. It was cashmere. I had just bought it to complete my ‘influential business woman’ look.
My hands shook as I removed the USB from its case and tucked it into my shoe.
‘Calm down,’ I told myself, ‘just walk calmly out of the building. She won’t notice you.’
I went for it.
I was almost there. Two more steps. All I needed was for her to keep facing the other way.
Of course, she didn’t.


tess_anderson@live.com (retweeted the contest if that counts for bonus points :) @ando_tess)

Lauren S said...

Hey! Here's my entry. Oh, and my email is lauren.spieller@gmailcom :) Thanks!

---

Janet was early. She perched on the leather couch, not noticing until it was too late that it was actually plastic. She lifted her thighs—thwap—before tugging her skirt past her knees.

“Just a mo’,” yelled the hairdresser. She raked her fingernails through a woman’s beehive of stiff, red-rocket curls. “Here for the weddin’ updo?”

Janet nodded. She’d promised Erika she’d come here. That she trusted her judgment.

“I’ve been dyin’ to try this.” The hairdresser produced a picture of a woman whose hair was a web of barrettes. “Erika showed you, right?”

Janet grimaced. Of course she didn’t.

Lauren S said...

Hopefully i'm not double positng...but my first entry didn't show up :( lauren.spieller@gmail.com

Janet was early. She perched on the leather couch, not noticing until it was too late that it was actually plastic. She lifted her thighs—thwap—before tugging her skirt past her knees.

“Just a mo’,” yelled the hairdresser. She raked her fingernails through a woman’s beehive of stiff, red-rocket curls. “Here for the weddin’ updo?”

Janet nodded. She’d promised Erika she’d come here. That she trusted her judgment.

“I’ve been dyin’ to try this.” The hairdresser produced a picture of a woman whose hair was a web of barrettes. “Erika showed you, right?”

Janet grimaced. Of course she didn’t.

Curtis Moser said...

Janet was early. A hint of perfume still lingered in the air.

She grabbed the knife. The hall clock mimicked her heartbeat.

Tick.

She reached for the door.

Tock.

She pushed it open.

Tick.

He was lying on the bed.

Tock.

She was atop him now, a wicked inversion of his adulterous affair. He writhed beneath her. She plunged the knife into him.

She could hear the clock again.

Tick.

His heart was bigger than she imagined it would be.

Tock.

It was heavy, hot, and slippery with blood.

Tick.

She should have felt guilty.

Tock.

Of course, she didn't.

M. G. Tarquini said...

Janet was early. Early enough to qualify for the bonus round at Sally's Stake and Shake. Short a sapling or two, she accepted the t-shirt, anyway, raced into the ring and tethered the three-eyed otherworldly thing securely to the underside of the neighbor kid's mattress with the only weaponry she had a hand - a popsicle stick shoved into her pocket yesterday and honed to a fine point with an emery board on the subway in this morning.
Accolades and avocado smoothies followed. Janet sucked on a libation the color of 1970s bathroom fixtures and wondered why the big deal. Others prepared for months, sometimes years for their moment in the spotlight. Janet supposed she could lie and say she had also, leave the losers with a shred of dignity to garnish their plate of crow.
Of course, she didn't.

josh said...

Janet was early. The room was empty, clean. The participants of this nights little event were not yet present. She knew that in only a few short hours things would be different. They would be very different indeed.

It was a decision that she made while she taking a shower and since that moment she has yet to feel clean. She knew what had to be done.

She wanted to walk out, dripping wet and complete the task right then and there. Of course, she didn't.

macmediaent@gmail.com

Phil Smith said...

Janet was early, which was unusual. The other agents were still gathering.
“Have a seat,” an older agent said, pointing to a chair on the other side of a long table. You could tell he had long career being judgmental.
“It’s about this Query Shark of yours,” he said. “It’s causing problems.”
What do you mean? Janet innocently asked, even though she knew the answer.
“We all have are ways of evaluating queries” he began, diplomatically.
“You are giving away all of our secrets,” a woman from her own agency blurted. “You have to stop.”
Of course, she didn’t.

Phil Smith
psmith0853@aol.com

LynnRodz said...

Janet was early.

She was always early for gym. She couldn't let them see her, see the rolls of fat, the pasty skin. She struggled into her clothes before anyone arrived, her eyes avoided the mirror that showed her like an albino whale.

In came the girls with the perfect bodies - tanned, flat stomachs and tiny waists. They paraded around the locker room in their bras and panties like they were on a beach.

She saw how they looked at her. She wanted to scream, "Stupid bitches, one day you'll be fat and ugly too!"

Of course, she didn't.

lynnrodz at live dot com

Caitlin Carrigan said...

Janet was early, and not by choice. The judge wouldn’t arrive for another fifteen minutes and now she’d suffer the stares. She imagined their thoughts – What kind of monster could do such a thing? Janet stared at the table, planning her response. When they asked, guilty or not guilty – to hovering by her daughter’s bedroom door, watching her suffer, hooked up to seven different machines, to keep her breathing, to keep her drugged so she didn’t wake up screaming – when they asked if she murdered her own daughter, she knew what she would say.
Of course, she didn’t.

caitlinmcarrigan[at]gmail[dot]com

Caitlin Carrigan said...

Janet was early, and not by choice. The judge wouldn’t arrive for another fifteen minutes and now she’d suffer the stares. She imagined their thoughts – What kind of monster could do such a thing? Janet stared at the table, planning her response. When they asked, guilty or not guilty – to hovering by her daughter’s bedroom door, watching her suffer, hooked up to seven different machines, to keep her breathing, to keep her drugged so she didn’t wake up screaming – when they asked if she murdered her own daughter, she knew what she would say.
Of course, she didn’t.

caitlinmcarrigan[at]gmail[dot]com

(Sorry if it's a double post! Page froze on me!)

KatieB said...

Janet was early. She knew that Brandon had been at the Laundromat from his check-in on Foursquare. Looking at the dryer tumbling the flannel shirts, blue jeans and sweatsocks, she knew he hadn’t left yet. Opening the dryer, she grabbed a shirt, still damp, and held it to her face, inhaling.

From behind she heard, “What the hell, Janet?”

Suddenly, the whole rehearsed speech about how much she loved his brilliant comments in class vanished. She couldn’t find the words to say she wanted to be his friend. She wanted to tell him she loved him.

Of course, she didn’t.

foodangel at mac dot com

Vanessa Shields said...

Thrilled to be invited to the "First Annual Janet Is Number One!" (or FAJINO, as it became known on Twitter) soiree, Janet had arrived early. Tables set with fine china, candles and flowers filled the room. Fancy. She noticed a menu card in the shape of a shark, mouth at the top jagged with paper shark-teeth, on a table. Janet felt warm inside. Appetizer: shark caviar. What now? Soup: shark soup. Entree: shark fin steak. Janet crushed the shark menu in her fist. She needed to make a sharktastic decision. Should she leave the event? Of course, she didn't.


Thanks, Amy! What a fab idea!!
vanessa shields, shark lover
shieldsvanessa@gmail.com

Bonnie said...

Janet was early. She was always early when it was her turn to drive. I'd made off hand remarks about this but she just said she liked to be early, in her smug way.
I got back at her by always picking her up late. We didn't get home from the balloon rally the other night when she was driving until after midnight because she drives so slowly, takes all the back roads, is afraid of the Interstates. She says she has trouble merging.
Did she notice how easily I merge. Of course she didn't.

bkmcmillen@gmail.com
Bonnie McMillen

CJKeats said...

Janet was early.
She felt great about that! Janet had fretted that stopping to buy her one replacement bar of soap would prevent her arrival at work, at precisely 7am. Janet would have panicked then. She calculated she needed to stop in again on her way home to purchase a single roll of toilet paper. Disappointing. Agonizingly inept time management! But at least she had never been late for anything. Not one thing. Not anything she regretted. There had been the day of her wedding. To that loony. But she never allowed herself to regret that. Of course, she didn't.

CJKeats said...

Janet was early.
She felt great about that! Janet had fretted that stopping to buy her one replacement bar of soap would prevent her arrival at work, at precisely 7am. Janet would have panicked then. She calculated she needed to stop in again on her way home to purchase a single roll of toilet paper. Disappointing. Agonizingly inept time management! But at least she had never been late for anything. Not one thing. Not anything she regretted. There had been the day of her wedding. To that loony. But she never allowed herself to regret that. Of course, she didn't.
CSteeksma@gmail.com

Joanne said...

Janet was early. Her teen mother, working her fast food shift, crumpled in pain as she wiped sticky tables. The shift manager called an ambulance, but Janet didn't wait. She demanded her mother push, prepared to plop onto a plastic red booth. Her first breath inhaled aromas of fried chicken and curly fries. She cried amidst onlookers slurping sodas. Bleary-eyed, Janet appeared to register disappointment as she gazed at her surroundings. Her red face scrunched and she howled at her fate. Did she like fast food?

Of course, she didn't


Joanne Faries JLF58@tx.rr.com

Danny Konczynski said...

Janet was early. Not an easy thing on a rainy Monday morning for her. But this weekend, a young author had captivated her with an entry in her ‘Chum Bucket.’ She was hoping to find the manuscript she requested from him waiting in her inbox. She was not disappointed. She made it clear that she was not to be disturbed and began reading. Darkness had fallen by time she was done reading. She poured two fingers of a good Scotch she kept in her drawer and sat back and smiled. Did she reject this submission? Of course she didn’t.

daniel.konczynski2@us.ngrid.com

Curt David said...

“Janet was early. Early R. Bird to be exact. (The granddaughter of Early Bird, who was renowned for her worm hunting techniques.) Janet had to take a pseudonym amongst her earthworm friends. No longer a fledgling, Janet had to participate in the annual worm hunting competition. With the entire flock watching her, Janet found an earthworm. Scotty. She had no choice but to take him to her nest and destroy him. Only her grandmother’s sharp eyesight could tell that the torn pieces resembled shedded snake skin.”
“Did she eat her friend!?”
Scott Earthworm smiled, “Of course, she didn’t.”

curtman5@gmail.com

Kitty said...

Janet was early
Janet was surly
without her evening fifth.
"WHERE'S MY MACALLAN'S?"
"Retract your talons,
it's coming in a jiff."

"I loathe these parties
with artsy-fartsies,"
she said draining her drink.
"Would your loathing be less
if you were the guest?"
"Of course, what do you think?"

She spied Miss Snark
in the dark;
Clooney was her date.
Setting her sights
"He's mine by rights!"
determined to make him HER mate.

She made her move,
swift and smooth.
It's Janet he's now smitten.
"Miss Snark not see
you stole Mr. C?"
What do you think? "Of course, she didn't."


Kitty Myers
imkittymyers@gmail.com

...

Kitty said...

Made a tiny mistake in my first posting, I hope you accept this Mulligan:

Janet was early
Janet was surly
without her evening fifth.
"WHERE'S MY MACALLAN'S?"
"Retract your talons,
it's coming in a jiff."

"I loathe these parties
with artsy-fartsies,"
she said draining her drink.
"Would your loathing be less
if you were the guest?"
"Of course, what do you think?"

She spied Miss Snark
in the dark;
Clooney was her date.
Setting her sights
"He's mine by rights!"
determined to make him HER mate.

She made her move,
swift and smooth.
It's Janet he's now smitten.
"Miss Snark not see
you stole Mr. C?"
"What do you think? Of course, she didn't."


Kitty Myers
imkittymyers@gmail.com

Curt David said...

“Janet was early. Early R. Bird to be exact. (The granddaughter of Early Bird, who was renowned for her worm hunting techniques.) Janet had to take a pseudonym amongst her earthworm friends. No longer a fledgling, Janet had to participate in the annual worm hunting competition. With the entire flock watching her, Janet found an earthworm. Scotty. She had no choice but to take him to her nest and destroy him. Only her grandmother’s sharp eyesight could tell that the torn pieces resembled shedded snake skin.”
“Did she eat her friend!?”
Scott Earthworm smiled, “Of course, she didn’t.”

k.kellie edwards said...

Janet was early. Always. I brought it up just once, fifty-three years ago when I was seventeen and she was beautiful.

It was a short conversation.

Life is like that. She heard the news and swore she’d face the end head-on; go out on her own terms. Yesterday, she asked me to meet her outside our favorite café. Three-fifteen. She got there early.

So did I.

I stood on the corner and watched my beloved wife. At three she stood, smiled, and stepped into the street. A blessing, they said. She never saw it coming.

Of course, she didn't.

k.kellie edwards said...

kkellie says, sheepishly, Oh, my email. eek. kinderkaren@hotmail.com

Brian Wethington said...

Janet was early.

She hadn’t really wanted to shiv the catty bitch, but Cece had the rotten luck of being late. She caught Cece at the throat of the alley, driving the makeshift blade neatly between the third and fourth ribs, directly into her black heart.

“Ung!” Cece gasped as the blade parted the gristle between her ribs. She toppled over backward, dead, the weight of her punctured body twisted and popped her left knee like a piece of rotten wood. It was painless, quick.

Janet wondered if she should feel bad about the whole thing.

Of course, she didn’t.
____

100 on the nose (according to Google).

brian (at) wethington (dot) me

Sharing FB, Twitter, and Blog :)

Amy Schaefer said...

Janet was early. Her teacher marked the appropriate demerits on the screen. Janet Hurley – starting the day in last place. Her heart beat a little faster. Maybe this would work.

Her classmates filed in on the stroke of eight. Janet exhaled and pushed her socks down with a toe. Demerit. Answered a question incorrectly. Demerit. Whispered at her neighbour, a girl who shook slightly as she pretended not to hear. Demerit.

It wasn’t enough; she was running out of time.

She interrupted the teacher.

Janet’s cheek stung. The teacher massaged her hand. “Office. Now.”

“I’m going.”

Of course, she didn’t.

----

sailing dot papillon at gmail dot com

Tim Casey said...

Janet was early for the first time in her life, her hair was still wet and she smelled of the body wash that hadn’t rinsed off completely, but nothing was going to stop her today she had brought everything that was needed, she checked her purse she knew she had brought it with her but of course, she didn't.

timothyo.casey@gmail.com

I tweeted the contest to my followers.

richardh said...

Janet was early.
Dressed all sheer and pearly,
she tossed her hair, all curly,
and smiled at me, all girly.

I sighed, hopeless and surly.
She had to know about Shirley,
or care about it surely.
Janet winked at me impurely.

Of course, she didn't.

rnhainsworth (at) gmail (dot) com

Naomi said...

Janet was early. Must've taken the afternoon off work.

When the key turned in the lock downstairs, Paul's body tensed against the silk ropes and the leather harness.

"Untie me. Hide." His eyes darted towards the closet. "Quick!"

Me, skulk in the closet like a common adulterer?

Janet was my sister; she'd stolen my fiancé. I was stealing him back, little by little. Only it dawned on me, looking at his slitty eyes, scared like a trapped rat's: I didn't want him back.

I slapped his naked, goose-bumped ass.

"Hello, Janet. Care to join us?"

Of course, she didn't.

**

Shared on Twitter and Facebook!

Naomi said...

Janet was early. Must've taken the afternoon off work.

When the key turned in the lock downstairs, Paul's body tensed against the silk ropes and the leather harness.

"Untie me. Hide." His eyes darted towards the closet. "Quick!"

Me, skulk in the closet like a common adulterer?

Janet was my sister; she'd stolen my fiancé. I was stealing him back, little by little. Only it dawned on me, looking at his slitty eyes, scared like a trapped rat's: I didn't want him back.

I slapped his naked, goose-bumped ass.

"Hello, Janet. Care to join us?"

Of course, she didn't.

**

Shared on Twitter and Facebook!

(Sorry, forgot my email: darvell349 at aol dot com.)

V Brown said...

Janet was early. She walked across the flat rooftop and knelt where it overlooked a small cafe. Opening her case, she assembled a rifle, attaching a silencer at the end of the barrel.

He arrived, Janet's target ... and high school sweetheart. She leveled the scope, placing the crosshairs between his baby blues.

"I don't know if I can do this ..." He was the one that got away. "If I miss then he could run. They could protect him ..." She fingered the trigger. "If I just miss ..."

Of course, she didn't.


*Thanks for such a fun contest! My email is: ved.brown@gmail.com

Jared X said...

Janet was early. So was everyone else.

Janet was wide-eyed. They jostled to see him enter in his Nehru jacket and gauge earrings. One of his headset-adorned lickspittles herded them into a queue, Janet dead last.

Janet was incensed. He’d surely fill his quota up the line, bestowing prosperity on the chosen and another wasted year on the rest. She cursed him. She cursed The System.

Janet was guardedly hopeful. Closer now, she thought he looked tired. The terror of imminent opportunity reddened her cheeks. He studied her, any flaw disqualifying, waiting for her to break.

Of course, she didn’t.

jaredtamarkin(at)yahoo(dot)com

*I am tweeting news of my entry immediately after posting this. Thanks for the contest.

Lance said...

Janet was early. The stalker she nicknamed Dick was late.

The souls of the departed lay content in their graves under a full moon.

The thirty-two inch Louisville Slugger in her right hand carried the autograph of Al Kaline. He hit .297 over a 22-year career.

On feet trained by long-range reconnaissance beyond the frontier, she approached him from behind.

He was a big bugger.

But his neck snapped with a loud crack when she swung for one high and outside.

"Dick, they're all foul balls where you're headed."

Janet didn't take crap off of anyone.

Of course, she didn't.

lancesbarron at gmail.com

Kathryn Leonard-Peck said...

Janet was early. Early to bed when tempted by Franklin and friends. Not early to rise because there was no dough in it. But her publisher client had left her an ARC as a tip.

She noticed she’d slept in her stilettos again. She wriggled into what was left of her dress, and downed her morning whiskey, neat. Janet hoisted the girls, tucked the manuscript into her lace-swathed cleavage, and smiled. She’d have done him just for the tip.

Time for a fix at the corner bookstore before hitting her day job. Feel any regret? Of course, she didn’t.

kathrynleonardpeck@gmail.com

Zeina said...

Janet was early. She took a seat on the lawn chair in the middle of her vegetable garden and waited.

She wasn't surprised when he arrived. Five a.m. God's greatest hour for contemplation and trysts. He loved her dimply knees. They reminded him of peas. The parsnip greens waved to him quietly. His eyes locked into hers. He could smell the lavender. His approach was canny. Her hand was resting on something. His desire peaked. They sprang into action. He zigzagged, and she thwacked with the old fishing net. Did she catch Houdini Long Ears? Of course, she didn't.

ginawane@gmail.com

Kerry McGlynn said...

Janet was early to feel it. It usually took longer for the blotter to kick in.
Her body succumbed to the drug, and with each passing tremble, her mind deluded itself.

Finally, her escape.

Shadows danced around the room, each performing their own seductive waltz. Janet tried to join, but she fell. Colors vibrated from the impact.
They laughed, "Again!"
Janet giggled as she fell once more.
Aside from the encouragement, one shadow expressed worry. It had her father's voice.
"Stop."
Janet scowled. She wouldn't quit acid; not her painkiller.
She didn't listen to the shadow. Of course, she didn't.
*******************************
And there's my entry, entitled "Her Escape"
My email: Kmcglynn947@gmail.com
** and I promoted this contest by retweeting you, and spreading the word to my friends and family.
Thank you for this opportunity. :)

Owen Bailey said...

Janet was early.

The doctor’s office smelled of chemicals and sick people she tried to ignore with a book from her purse. She would never touch a magazine here, but maybe that doesn’t matter now.

She tried to concentrate on the words, but they kept getting jumbled in her scattered mind. She slowed the words down to a crawl, forcing their meaning. They wouldn’t yield to distract, jumping out of order, telling a different sadder story of guilty and cowardice that she wouldn't share.

Should she have told her love? Yes, always share your fate.

Of course, she didn’t.

owenrussellbailey@gmail.com

JD Paradise said...

Janet was early. You were earlier. Nobody beat you on a deal.

You launched from the chair, shook hands like friends.

"This seems . . . unlikely," she'd said.

You'd flashed the Trust Me smile that'd made you billions. "Believe."

"But Mars--" She'd studied you. "Why me?"

Because you'd seen the crash. Seen yourself dead. Unless she flew instead. Only her. You saw that, too.

"Because ten million."

"You're dumping it. Two."

"Ten." Nobody beat you.

"Three."

"Ten." Nobody.

She'd pay. Who wouldn't?


Now, an eternity away, you brace for impact.

If she'd known--even guessed--she'd have walked.


Of course, she didn't.

-----

Here via Janet Reid's blog. This was *tough* to get down to 100. Fun challenge. Thanks for it!

jdparadise@gmail.com

donnaeverhart.com said...

Janet was early, out of necessity. She had to fix things with Mother. She’d never get the chance again.
The coffin was in place. Mother was laid out in her finest. Janet crept up, peering down, waiting.
Mother finally spoke, the same words she’d heard her entire life.

You ought to apologize for being born. I never wanted you. You ruined me, my body, my looks. Tell me you’re sorry!

Janet smiled, raised her hand, smacked her mother’s face. And, again.
She turned, walked away, wearing a tiny smile.

Janet, tell me you’re sorry! Now!


Of course, she didn’t.



EMAIL: deverhart2@nc.rr.com

(I also tried to add some HTML tags to italicize "mother's" word, but...this site didn't seem to like my attempt, so I have no idea how my entry will look until I post it...)

donnaeverhart.com said...

Janet was early, out of necessity. She had to fix things with Mother. She’d never get the chance again.
The coffin was in place. Mother was laid out in her finest. Janet crept up, peering down, waiting.
Mother finally spoke, the same words she’d heard her entire life.

You ought to apologize for being born. I never wanted you. You ruined me, my body, my looks. Tell me you’re sorry!

Janet smiled, raised her hand, smacked her mother’s face. And, again. She turned, walked away, wearing a tiny smile.

Janet, tell me you’re sorry! Now!


Of course, she didn’t.

EMAIL: deverhart2@nc.rr.com

Calorie Bombshell said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Kerry McGlynn said...

Janet was early. Miracles must exist.
She walked into Lenny's coffee shop, where she slaved away every morning.
She yawned and lazily flicked on the lights.
Janet gasped.
Beyond the mountains of broken glass, The cash register was left ajar, with all it's contents long gone.
Panic crept deep into Janet's gut. What was she supposed to do? A robbery took place! As an employee- she should know what to do and have a game plan for something like this!
But she was just a young, scared, college student. she didn't know what to do. of course she didn't.
******
My email: Kmcglynn947@gmail.com
** and I promoted this contest by retweeting you, and spreading the word to my friends and family.
Thank you for this opportunity. :)

Kerry McGlynn said...

Janet was early.
There wasn't any place she would rather be;
for today she would stand up to her boss, her bully, and the whole office would see.

She knocked on the door, her hands slightly shaking-
But nothing could beat this new reawakening.

Her boss gave her the look, the one that gave Janet chills down her spine,
the very look that made her feel very less than fine.

Before throwing a fit, Janet confidently stated,
"I quit."

But then Janet woke up, the lighting only a small glint.
She was dreaming- she didn't quit.

Of course, she didn't.
*********
That's my attempt at poetry. XD
My email: Kmcglynn947@gmail.com
And I promoted this contest by retweeting you and spreading the word.
Thank you :)

Michael Seese said...

Janet was early, which is uncommon for one’s death penalty hearing. Emotionless, she faced the three anonymous judges.

“What is your plea?”

“I have to consult my magic 8 ball.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It speaks the truth. But you can’t handle the truth.”

“You are out or order.”

“You’re out of order! The whole trial is out of order!”

“Guilty,” said one. “I must ask. How could you? Did you stop to think before murdering those innocents?”

Janet shuddered. A giant cosmic spider exploded from her chest. Just before it decimated the tribunal, it hissed, “Of course she didn’t.”

----

My info: mail(AT)MichaelSeese(DOT)com

Here is how I promoted it. I mentioned it in my blog tonight and Sunday. I also will tweet about it @MSeeseTweets

Lenny Liang said...

Janet was early. She was early to die, too early to see her people rise, though she incited their rebellion.

The king had set himself upon her, penetrated her purity, and filled her ears with poison.

"You are quite fortunate. You're a dog from a land of dogs, yet here you are in your master's bed. Now, express to me your gratitude."

Janet could scream, and so she did.

She could fight, and so she did.

She could blind, and so she did; her teeth sank into his eye.

She could have lived as his pet.

Of course, she didn't.

lsliang2001@gmail.com
Shared on Twitter (@lsliang2001)

Calorie Bombshell said...

Janet was early. I watched as she reapplied lipstick.

“Come here often?” I eased onto the bar stool. She was comely, unlike the others.

“I’m waiting for someone.” Her eyes were trusting.

“CoolDude42?”

She laughed then sipped her Chardonnay. I ordered bourbon straight.

“How many times have you…?” Her face flush with blood.

“You’re my first.” I lied. You’re my next. I hoped.

She talked of hobbies and travel. I thought of saw blades and shackles.

“Hungry?” Something stirred inside me.

She nodded. Eagerly.

“I know a place that’s to die for.”

She had no idea.

Of course she didn’t.

[I deleted my previous entry and re-posted this. I will share this on my blog]

Sarah said...

Janet was early. Again. This would be shocking to anyone who knew Janet. Of course they didn’t know, not until tomorrow anyways.
Janet was trying to kill herself. Again.
This time she was standing on the roof of her apartment building. She had planned to jump at 8:00 a.m. sharp, like the other times. But here she was at 7:46 a.m., early.
This was her fifth attempt. She had been early to the others but always failed. She was confident that this time she could do it, she would die.
But did Janet succeed?
Of course, she didn’t.

98 words I'm so proud! Also my email is rumpelteaser@hotmail (dot) com :)

Living Hope said...

Janet was early. Or wait, was she late? At this point I’m not even sure which she told me it was. Growing up in a family of boys I didn’t get much in regards to the female anatomy if it wasn’t from darkened closets or drunken college parties. All I understood is that she was having our baby. I asked myself if after 10 years of trying and 7 of giving up, if she could really carry this baby to full-term. Of course, she didn’t.

ddilliplane@gmail.com

Living Hope said...

Janet was early. Or wait, was she late? At this point I’m not even sure which she told me it was. Growing up in a family of boys I didn’t get much in regards to the female anatomy if it wasn’t from darkened closets or drunken college parties. All I understood is that she was having our baby. I asked myself if after 10 years of trying and 7 of giving up, if she could really carry this baby to full-term. Of course, she didn’t.

ddilliplane@gmail.com

Eija said...

Janet was early. She held on tightly to the beat up briefcase. She glanced down at it, making sure it was there even though her knuckles had turned white from her grip. Her palms began to sweat, and she tried to hold on tighter. Across the square, a tall man had stopped walking and stared at Janet. She took a deep breath and began to move forward. A sharp pain took over all her thoughts, and she slumped to the ground.

“What day is it?! Do you know your name?” a stranger shouted over her.

Of course, she didn’t.


--
email is eijasumner (at) gmail (dot) com
Thanks!

Georgia said...

Janet was early, but not early enough, everyone was already in the shelter. Bombs were spitting from sky. The shelter was crowded. No one knew Janet wasn't there. "LET ME IN! PLEASE!" Janet screamed from outside. The door had been bolted down, impossible to open in time. Her mother, Marie, ran to the door, pushing, praying it would open. As tears fell from Marie's eyes, the bombs were getting closer. A bomb crashed outside the shelter, the door swung open. Every house had been blown apart. Janet's body lay metres away. Marie ran, hoping she'd survived, of course, she didn't.

----------

Hopefully that's exactly 100 words.. Thanks for such a cool completion :)

da.moose1998@hotmail.com

Terrance Austin said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Terrance Austin said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Terrance Austin said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Terrance Austin said...

Janet was early, but it didn't make a difference. The crime scene was already contaminated with footprints and anxious rookie detectives trying to prove to be more dedicated than they were. Two words for you guys, she announced in a irritated tone," desk duty. As they looked back at her, they asked would she give her professional observation of the scene. But of course, she didn't.

Terrance L. Austin
kymeria12@gmail.com
or
camboo12@yahoo.com

Terrance Austin said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Mommy said...

Janet was early. Better believe she was. Her weekly job of collecting hell bound souls from heaven’s gates was her only refuge from her over-heated home in Lucifer’s lair. That’s what she got for falling for the bad boy. The last of recently deceased assemble and the fanfare began. Trumpets blared. The heavenly gates opened to an angelic chorus. The chosen walked through, leaving the rejects behind, souls not pure enough to stand by the creator’s side. Seventeen hundred ghostly forms turned away, left to reside in Satan’s realm. Did she warn them of hell’s torments? Of course she didn’t.

Peter Treurnicht said...

Janet was early. The crows were still to gather. Only a cornucopia of white fingers crowded the hill. Fingers that pointed to the heavens; a final hope of the path they had tread.

Soon not only the sky would look like wet granite. Needlessly she tucked the blood-freckled book under her jacket.

The whole thing was like some rehearsed play - she preferred books, where her imagination always ensured that she was front row... that she was at opening night. The crows passed, each returning a rose to its mother's womb: the finale act.

Of course, she didn't.

READWALKER

Peter Treurnicht said...

Janet was early. The crows were still to gather. Only a cornucopia of white fingers crowded the hill. Fingers that pointed to the heavens; a final hope of the path they had tread.

Soon not only the sky would look like wet granite. Needlessly she tucked the blood-freckled book under her jacket.

The whole thing was like some rehearsed play - she preferred books, where her imagination always ensured that she was front row... that she was at opening night. The crows passed, each returning a rose to its mother's womb: the finale act.

Of course, she didn't.

READWALKER

Peter Treurnicht said...

Janet was early. The crows were still to gather. Only a cornucopia of white fingers crowded the hill. Fingers that pointed to the heavens; a final hope of the path they had tread.

Soon not only the sky would look like wet granite. Needlessly she tucked the blood-splattered book under her jacket.

The whole thing was like some rehearsed play - she preferred books, where her imagination always ensured that she was front row... that she was at opening night. The crows passed, each returning a rose to its mother's womb: the finale act.

Of course, she didn't.

READWALKER

Peter Treurnicht said...

Janet was early. The crows were still to gather. Only a cornucopia of white fingers crowded the hill. Fingers that pointed to the heavens; a final hope of the path they had tread.

Soon not only the sky would look like wet granite. Needlessly she tucked the blood-splattered book under her jacket.

The whole thing was like some rehearsed play - she preferred books, where her imagination always ensured that she was front row... that she was at opening night. The crows passed, each returning a rose to its mother's womb: the finale act.

Of course, she didn't.

READWALKER

Peter Treurnicht said...

Janet was early. The crows were still to gather. Only a cornucopia of white fingers crowded the hill. Fingers that pointed to the heavens; a final hope of the path they had tread.

Soon not only the sky would look like wet granite. Needlessly she tucked the blood-splattered book under her jacket.

The whole thing was like some rehearsed play - she preferred books, where her imagination always ensured that she was front row... that she was at opening night. The crows passed, each returning a rose to its mother's womb: the finale act.

Of course, she didn't.

READWALKER

-----

pmtreurnicht@gmail.com

Peter Treurnicht said...

Janet was early. The crows were still to gather. Only a cornucopia of white fingers crowded the hill. Fingers that pointed to the heavens; a final hope of the path they had tread.

Soon not only the sky would look like wet granite. Needlessly she tucked the blood-splattered book under her jacket.

The whole thing was like some rehearsed play - she preferred books, where her imagination always ensured that she was front row... that she was at opening night. The crows passed, each returning a rose to its mother's womb: the finale act.

Of course, she didn't.

READWALKER

-----

pmtreurnicht@gmail.com

Anonymous said...

Janet was early. The crows were still to gather. Only a cornucopia of white fingers crowded the hill. Fingers that pointed to the heavens; a final hope of the path they had tread.

Soon not only the sky would look like wet granite. Needlessly she tucked the blood-splattered book under her jacket.

The whole thing was like some rehearsed play - she preferred books, where her imagination always ensured that she was front row... that she was at opening night. The crows passed, each returning a rose to its mother's womb: the finale act.

Of course, she didn't.

READWALKER

-----

pmtreurnicht@gmail.com

HungryGals said...

Janet was early to her appointment and why not? The head scientist had promised the scoop of a lifetime. A journalist’s dream.

Dr. Kon led her to a gleaming white room. “Darwinism, Ms. Reid. We’ve guaranteed the survival of the human race - married human DNA with that of the fiercest predator on Earth. Observe.”

A grotesque, grey-skinned creature lay on a table before them. It gazed up at Janet with oozing, lifeless eyes.

Black eyes, she thought, like a doll’s eyes.

Janet knew it was wrong, knew she should scream.

Of course, she didn’t.

********************************
My email: hungrygals@gmail.com
Above story is 95 words. I shared your contest page on Twitter (@Hungrycatt). Thanks for the fun contest!

HungryGals said...

Janet was early to her appointment and why not? The head scientist had promised the scoop of a lifetime. A journalist’s dream.

Dr. Kon led her to a gleaming white room. “Darwinism, Ms. Reid. We’ve guaranteed the survival of the human race - married human DNA with that of the fiercest predator on Earth. Observe.”

A grotesque, grey-skinned creature lay on a table before them. It gazed up at Janet with oozing, lifeless eyes.

Black eyes, she thought, like a doll’s eyes.

Janet knew it was wrong, knew she should scream.

Of course, she didn’t.
**********************************
Word count: 95
email: hungrygals@gmail.com
Shared contest page via Twitter (@HungryCatt)
Thanks for a fun contest!

Terrance Austin said...

A.S.King, Sorry for so many entries. I was using my phone to post my story. While waiting for moderation, I mistakenly assumed my post didn't go through. Thanks.

Nina Waters said...

Janet was early. It's the first time she's here after three years. She didn't know what to do. Will she pray? Will she tell him that she's forgiving him? She doesn't really know. Maybe she just want to rub it in his grave that she's still alive and he's not.

She stood there staring.

"Dedicated human life as a loving husband and a caring
father."

That's when she lost it. "Dammit! Whoever decided to write that? That's not even half of what's true!"

She didn't care that she was shouting, that strangers are staring. After everything. Of course, she didn't.

thebookishconfections@gmail.com

Kerry McGlynn said...

Janet was early.
But not early enough to walk away.

As she made her way down the street, they spotted her. Jules waved her over, annoyance plastered on his face.
Janet quickened her pace, biting her lip.
When she finally approached the group, it was silent.
Then Jules said, "Are we doin' this or not? Janet- get in there. Make the diversion happen."
Janet gulped.
She looked toward the bank.
She didn't want to rob it.
She wanted to run away.

But then Jules gave her the look, and she nodded.
She didn't walk away.
Of course, she didn't.
*****
Kmcglynn947@gmail.com
- promoted this by retweeting and spreading the word. Thank you for this opportunity.

Whitley Abell said...

Janet was early. The stands were empty beneath the “Slashing Our Way to ’13 Victory” banner, and her mom’s Buick had already peeled away towards the night shift.

In the ticket booth, Coach Newman’s hulking figure pressed a trembling freshman against the wall. Janet couldn’t see her face, but she could still feel the splinters digging into her bare hips, her cheer skirt bunched in his bruising grip as the crowd cheered for last year’s homecoming queen.

“Shh, Janet. Don’t tell.”

Of course, she didn’t.

whitleyabell@gmail.com

Spark Olaguez said...

Janet was early. They all had to be if not they were doom to live with the people who took everything from them. With that idea of being separate again they push harder to lay low until they were off the news. So that meant hiding in the cold chapel that was a mile from a food stand. For them family was all they had and with each other it was so much more. They didn’t know where to go next but as long as they were together they were home even if it meant filthy clothes they stole and water dripping from the ceiling. But that was okay since they ran from them when the storm was coming which the dogs would have trouble looking for them. They were smart and know their limits to things they could or couldn’t do. They heard the shot before the scream. They should have been smarter, getting fire wood were they know that someone would have called of an intruder breaking in. But they agreed if one gets caught then they run far away. Since there was a way to free the other but knowing they would leave their own behind they stayed. That’s just how things go when you can’t live on when something that just too much to loss. And when seeing them in handcuffs one thought came up, “Should have known better from them but that was my mistake of trust them too much.” Of course, she didn't.

ZRamirez@clear.net

Spark Olaguez said...

Janet was early. If not they were doom to live with the people. With that idea of being separate again they lay low where hide in a chapel. They didn’t know where to go next but together they were home. They ran when the storm was coming which the dogs would have trouble. They heard the shot before the scream. They agreed if one gets caught they run but they stayed. And seeing them one thought came up, “Should have known better from them but that was my mistake of trust them too much.” Of course, she didn't.
ZRamirez@clear.net I don't know if my first one was delete since I don't see it but this is my real one the other was my draft I'm very sorry.

Matthew MacNish said...

Hi, Pagoda.