Monday, October 17, 2005

Ficlet!

Now Playing: Ivy - Feel So Free

So I finally get around to spreading the meme Hem tagged me with ages ago. Honestly, I'm such a procrastinator about some things, and yet so prompt with others. Do you see me waiting to spread my cold germs? *gets buried under onslaught of pointy things thrown by people who have caught colds from me*

So here's what you have to do: write a short story in 55 words or less - a ficlet, really! I tag Vince, Chris, Mary, Purva & Ali - but everyone else is still welcome to have a go. If you are of the blog-deficient sort, feel free to use my comments section.

Here's my stab at the thing (first posted in Hem's comment section):


Wolves At The Door
There was no escape from this, she thought, more with resignation than with despair. It was time to end things. Cold steel would finish the job utterly and finally.
She took a deep breath, picked up the scissors and began to cut up her credit cards, one by one.


To the WordCount!Mobiles, people!

5 comments:

Stephen said...

And here's the story I originally posted on Hemlyn's blog, to give everyone additional creative fodder :D :

IT’S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE

The rocket hurtled through space, the blue orb increasing exponentially in size on the viewscreen. Captain Draconis realized only now what he had done. Earth would be obliterated by the gluon disruptor; mankind’s future was dependent on the Alpha Centauri colonists now. Draconis closed his eyes as the screen went white.

Sharon said...

Captain Draco, he's a hero!

Bring pollution down to zero!


will now go channel chm220 related hysteria elsewhere. :D

P said...

i'm in! (read: I want to procrastinate too..)

As she was cutting up her credit cards her thoughts drifted to a certain man she had had tea with that afternoon. She had told him he was an emotional wasteland, at which he had shrugged and chuckled.
"You're barren...emotionally...theres's nothing there to reach, or nurture..." She had kept going on like that, a little exasperated at the minimal effect her words were having, and a little embarassed at her outburst.

Why was she so easily provoked? Why did she work herself up like this? She had left the cafe and drifted over to the expensive stores on Queen St. W. Still quiet frustrated and now feeling a little sorry for herself, she had begun exerting dollar power. This had been known to happen before but never had she shopped in such a fury. Counter to the therapeutic effect it usually had, her emotions were working in a positive feedback to make her more aggraveted than before. Who gave him the right to mess with her peace of mind like this?

...I did, obviously. That realisation seemed to snap her out of a reverie. I can't go on like this, a victim to my emotions. I have to control myself. She went right back to return everything she had bought that afternoon. When she got home she was feeling considerably better, in control, and ready to move on with her life. She tossed her bag on the couch, and got some low-fat yogurt out of the fridge. mmm...blueberry...so underrated...
She went into her bedroom to check her messages. A telemarketing call for cheaper long distance rates, a call from her superviser asking her to get back to him about a conference in San Alto, and a call from Adam...the aforementioned man.
"Hi, theres a production of The Handmaid's Tale at the Opera House. I got us tickets. Keep your friday evening free."
That was it...
Unbelieveable. The gall. No apology, no mention at all of what transpired just a few hours earlier, no concern at all in his voice for how she must be feeling.

Fuck him. She stared at her hands. Her father was like this...never gave a damn about anyone else's point of view and very frequently walked all over her feelings. She was sick of it, being treated like a child. Indulged, maybe even pampered, but when it really came down to it, her opinion just didn't matter.
This ends now, today. First she deleted the message from her answering machine, then she deleted his number from her phone. Luckily the relationship hadn't lasted long enough for her to have accumulated many gifts but whatever she had was going to charity, even the diamond earrings, especially...the diamond earrings. After she was done paper bagging everything she sat down on her bed once again.
Breathe in, breathe out. The urge to pamper her psyche with shopping came up once again, but she put an abrupt end to that. She cut up all but one credit card (the one with the lowest limit)and tossed them in the shredder.
She was going to start being the woman she had always wanted to be, she was going to stop settling, she was going to be in control this time around...and she was going to that conference in San Alto. With that thought Anjali left for the lab.

Sorry about the chick-lit guys! I don't know what inspired it :p You are free to add testosterone to the mix :D

P said...

hmm I just noticed that the mood of the original paragraph is completely different from mine.

Well this is the problem with this sort of thing. Everyone approaches it differntly and who knows what mood you are in when you write it...oh well...criticism is welcomed!

Sharon said...

slightly longer than 55 words (:P) but awesome nonetheless. It flows incredibly well, honestly.

Only thing? I'd-a kept the diamond earrings. :P