Add a Something Flash Fiction #2

Different rules this week – add a line or so and keep the story going. Join in anytime.
Topic today – choose from:

It Stuck
She was a friend
Squiggle the Plodopuss

πŸ™‚
~WilderSoul

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  1. It stuck in their heads like a knife in a frozen slab of meat. The words going round and round. They were angry. They were very angry, and got angrier every passing minute. When the man finished speaking, the people rushed the podium as if intending to tear him apart.

    Reply
    • His eyes popped wide with fear. This was not the reaction he’d been expecting. He had written and re-written his speech at least a dozen different times. It was obvious that his words had ignited a fury. His eyes darted around the village square desperately seeking an escape. If his estimation was correct he had approximately 10 seconds before the angry mob tore him limb from limb…

      Reply
      • As the first grotesquely distorted face approached within throttling distance of his neck, the ground began to shake, splitting the podium in a roar of splintering boards and screams of confusion.

      • The man managed to escape out the back door as the living mass of people writhed inside. He ran through the industrial backstreets, hopeful not to be followed.

      • As he left an alley, a voice shouted “HEY, YOU!” He started to run. His pursuer was steadily catching up.

      • Looking behind him, he tripped on the curb and landed heavily on the ground. There was no way he could escape now, so he pulled out a flick knife as the man bore down upon him.

      • The pursuer muttered, “I’ve got you now!” as he ran the final few steps toward the man. He jumped on the man, then shouted “Aaargh!” as the knife pierced him.

      • The enraged man grabbed his stomach, blood oozing through his fingers. “I’ll kill you!” he said, pulling out an even bigger knife. The man, the speaker, leapt up horrified at what he’d done and what would happen next, and dodged around the corner.
        [why does we always make it gory? LOL]

      • He saw an empty recycle bin. He could tell that the man was about to come around the corner. Realising there was nowhere else to hide, he jumped into the bin and pulled the lid shut.

      • He hid there until he could hear no-one, and was sure it was safe. Then cautiously, he emerged. He realised he had no idea where he was, and would have to (dang it) ask somebody for directions to get home. He went up to the nearest house and nervously knocked, hoping that in the twilight, nobody would recognise him as the infuriating speaker from the hall.
        (maybe this can join up with something?)

      • A tired woman answered the door. He could see blood down the hallway. “I…” he hesitated, wondering whether to continue or try knocking on another door. “I’m lost. Can you provide directions for me to get home?”

      • “Sure,” Momma replied, but she looked angry. The man then noticed a young girl standing at the end of the hall, looking scared, with blood all on her clothes. He started to get really worried.

      • “We’re here,” she said, pointing to a map. He realised that he had ended up quite far away from his home. “R-right. Thank you.” he said. He considered asking about the blood, but then decided that he had had enough trouble for one day.

  2. It stuck! Oh my gosh it stuck!

    I had stolen the key out of Momma’s drawer to open up the lock on her trunk. I had just slipped the key into the lock giving it quick twist. It hadn’t clicked open as expected. Instead, the darn key was stuck in the trunk’s lock…

    Reply
    • I hope I did this right?!?

      Reply
    • Now I’m gonna be in so much trouble. Desperately I pulled on the key, trying to get it out, but it wouldn’t even turn. I knew Momma would be home at some point and then I would certainly pay for my curiosity. A head poked in the window; my neighbour. “What’re you doing?”

      Reply
    • “I… I’m trying to open this, but the key is stuck!” I said. My neighbour said, “Why are you at home, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

      Reply
      • I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s it to you? And anyway, you’re not in school neither.” He laughed and climbed over the window ledge. “Want me to help you with that key? Would a screwdriver help? Would an axe help?”
        “Do you have an axe?”
        “I might.” He sniggered.

      • “Hmm, it is quite stuck, isn’t it?” he said. “Just a minute, I’ll get my axe.”

      • *Thwack!*
        “Aaaaarrrrrghghghgh!”
        Blood spurted from where my fingertip used to be.
        “Aaargghgh!” I stopped the awful noise as I realised that it emitted from me. I picked up my fingertip and…

      • …stared at it…
        the boy holding the axe stared at it too…
        there was blood all over the floor and all over my clothes, and all over my momma’s trunk. Also, it seems the axe had hit the wood and it had splintered.
        “…oops,” he said.

      • “We’d better clean this up…” I said. I washed my finger and taped the fingertip back on.

      • It kept bleeding, and the tape fell off, so I used more. The neighbour boy vanished out the window, with his axe, and was left alone. My finger hurt.
        Momma arrived home. I could tell she was home because of the screaming.
        “It’s tomato sauce!” I cried, realising I’d trailed blood all over the floor.

      • Momma was not fooled. “What caused all this bleeding? And what happened to my trunk?” she exclaimed.

      • “I… I’m sorry,” I squeaked, hiding my finger behind my back. It was still throbbing, but strangely enough it wasn’t bleeding anymore. I was sure there was supposed to be more blood, but not like I’m complaining. Momma’s face was full of rage –
        then there was a knock on the door…

  3. Exhausted, I leaned back into my pillows and gazed down lovingly at my newborn critter. ‘Squiggle the Plodopuss’ I breathed whimsically. ‘You are gorgeous!’

    Cradling his head, I used my fingers to gently stretch out his tentacle toes, one by one. One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven… eight. Eight perfect tentacle plodder toes!

    Reply
    • Squiggle gazed up at me with his beautiful round eyes, his tiny beak opened and closed in newborn contentment. I returned with a softly radiant smile of my own and sighed as I fed him lovingly pre-chewed sardines, and kissed the smooth oval top of his slippery head.

      Reply
      • I stretched my tentacles around him and closed my eyes happily. He was my tenth child. Together I knew our family of Plodopusses would soon finish taking over the city, and after that, I was ambitious to rule the world.
        “I can’t wait,” I smiled, “for you to taste our success.”
        “Yes,” my husband intoned, sliding into the room with a corpse. “Success is… tasty indeed.”

  4. She was a friend. That was before the truth came out. The truth of my past which had lain buried for over a decade.

    Reply
    • Truth is a funny thing. While it freed my mind, it seemed to poison hers.
      She didn’t want to believe that I, the successful careerwoman she’d come to know, was really that girl from twelve years ago she’d seen on the street and turned away from. I suppose she felt guilty. But I wondered if she’d ever truly been my friend, if this is how she reacted upon finding out who I really was, who I had been.

      Reply
    • I tore open the box that I had buried under the tree so long ago. Those memories we had shared seemed a lifetime ago. I thought she was just a friend, at least that was what I told myself as tears leaked from my eyes. A picture floated to the top of the trinkets spread before me and the truth of it hit me harder than I was ready for.

      Reply
      • I am so sorry – your comment got caught in my seldom-checked spam queue! I’ve never had kosher comments disappear into the ether like that before, so I will check every day from now on. Thank you for joining in to the Add a Something!

  5. I wonder if all of these stories could somehow join together?

    Reply
  6. 10 years, counted in hours and felt in moments. It was an old romance. 10,000 fears to sift through to speak of it–remember. 100,000 breaths ago, at least.

    You knew me. I had never seen you, strived to remember even an impression. Nothing.

    And yet, there you were, with orange light in your hair, a new set of keys, all 10 fingers, and a story to tell…

    Reply
    • Welcome Jim – and thanks for joining in!

      Reply
    • I listened at first with impossible hope, that you might unveil the answer, a key, something to unlock the mystery of my tragic inability to live a normal life. And as you sank into the sofa in the warmth of the old red sun sinking into the cushioning mountains, I realised that the story was darker than I could have dared imagine.

      The flames flickered in the hearth and lit your face in a soft orange glow to match the highlights dancing in the flaming halo of your wiry hair. Your green eyes sparkled and held an expression which teased of unknown depths just beyond reach.

      Reply
  7. Shall we finish them off for tonight? Or leave them open?

    Reply
  8. How about, to round it off, a one comment poem, which includes all three titles?
    It Stuck
    She was a friend
    Squiggle the Plodopuss

    Reply
  9. Squiggle the Plodopuss
    To some, the terror of the seven seas
    To me,
    She was a friend.

    She wrapped her longest suckery tentacle around my shoulder
    and squeezed in a friendly hug.
    It Stuck.
    It was painful to part company.

    We never forgot.

    Reply
  10. She was a friend
    But now she’s gone
    She’s dead
    She’s eaten
    I tried to close the window but it stuck
    This is my fault
    and now I’ll die too
    tentacles ooze over the sill
    it’s Squiggle the Plodopuss
    Our Doom.

    Reply
  11. She was a sister, she was a friend,
    She was madder than a giant sprout.
    She asked me if I’d like to join in, but
    I didn’t have a clue what to write about.

    There seemed to be a lot of horror.
    Blood pouring out like roman wine,
    Though every character bled like stuck pigs,
    They miraculously ended fine.

    Should I start with Squiggle the Plodopuss?
    Create some sort of fantastic hook,
    I steered away from mariners tales
    And the wondrous journeys that they took.

    I bet you thought I was going to
    End that stanza with the words: it stuck.
    No! That would be too easy and
    You all should go to Cook’s

    Island and see the Plodopuss.
    He’s a surreal little creature.
    He’s not what you’d imagine and
    He’s always happy to meet ya.

    He’s nothing like an octopus,
    He only has four limbs.
    He very rarely washes
    Never goes out and swims.

    What makes Squiggle very different, And
    This you ought to know:
    He paints with brush ‘tween his lips
    And
    He’s extremely very slow.

    All day long he draws, or squiggles,
    Characters for his book.
    This is how is name was coined
    And it’s forever stuck.

    One day his book’ll be finished
    But darn it who can tell?
    No me, not you, not Zarniwoo,
    The crab there in its shell.

    He better ruddy hurry, mind,
    The sea level’s on the rise,
    It’s rushing up my shins
    Heading up my thighs.

    It’s creeping over my misters region
    I’m really starting to worry.
    Squiggle spreads out a well inked page
    With a magician’s flurry.

    On it he’s drawn an ocean liner and
    We all rush aboard.
    See, drawing can save a life or mind
    From ever getting bored.

    He’s drawn it with all measure of amusement
    He’s scribbled every comfort there
    Nothing we ever want for nor
    Really even care.

    There’s food a-plenty and fancy dress,
    There’s singing lessons with the King.
    There’s spam races with the turtles.
    There’s a panoramic swing.

    We have no fixed location
    We head where’er the tides pull
    Picking up lost castaways
    Until we’re nearly full

    Squiggle drawing their surprise
    For that’s what life’s about
    Not to war or take by force or
    To scream and shout.

    He’s taught me an awful lot
    Life is always a merry giggle
    Riding the salty waves with
    Our captain Mr Squiggle.

    He is now a friend, like she is a friend
    It was remarkable how easy it stuck
    The brilliant Squiggle Plodopuss
    Will one day he’ll finish his book.

    Reply
    • Cap’n Squiggle! Chris dear brother you have outdone yourself! Love it!
      Ah the power of drawing to save lives. Dear friendly Plodopuss. πŸ™‚
      Top o’ the morning to you – and have a lovely rest-of-the-day. I am about to head to snoozy land.

      Reply
      • ’twasn’t my best work, as I had literally just opened my peepers, but it was a good way to open the brain box! Fanks!
        My sister inspired! Ciao and tatty-bnoo! Have a lovely sleep!

      • (Yawns) – thank you I slept well! Good morning. Hope you are eating a scrumptious dinner! πŸ™‚

      • Dinner was filling, the taste was difficult as this bloody flu palaver is coming back! How rude!! 😊
        What does sis have planned for the day? Take care.

      • Hmm… flu bugs – Wanna try my flu zapper concoctions?
        Fresh oranges
        Crushed garlic and Fresh ginger root (think tasty soup, garlic bread, tasty stir-fry, or just chew some raw!)
        Menthol, peppermint, aniseed, eucalyptus, liquorice, irish moss, yum yum.
        Cinnamon, clove and apple… yum
        Rosemary, sage, thyme (think chicken soup!)
        and a nice hot cuppa tea… πŸ™‚
        Hope you get better soon dear brother.
        (by the way, no, i don’t mix the whole lot up together in a cauldron… hee hee hee)

      • Wow!! That’s a bloody mix and a half!
        I may need to charter a haulage truck to get me the list!!
        Are you sure you haven’t missed anything off the list?
        I may also need some sort of licence to mix them all up!
        Maybe by the time I’ve hunted our the ingredients, ferried them to Mavis, mixed them, fermented them and then bottled them the flu would be our of my system! That’s a cunning way of getting rid! Lol

      • I am so sorry – your message got caught in my spam queue, for some strange reason!
        This is really funny πŸ™‚ Hope your flu has completely cleared up πŸ™‚

  12. squiggle the platypus, foot loose, could
    use 4 new shoes, and some new duck-wood.
    He chased a swan and wore his shoes off,
    Then wore his feet off, legs gone for good.

    Damn crutch–it stuck! (like duck knew it would)

    Reply
  1. Add a Something Flash Fiction #3 | Wildersoul
  2. Add a Something Flash Fiction #4 | Wildersoul

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