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The horde was eager to attack. They knew they would win with their superior armaments. In their impatience to engage the enemy, they reached the field of battle first. They prepared to engage with confidence. They would eviscerate their opponents.

“Hark!” said the leader grinning fiercely at hearing a noise. “They approach!”

With weapons raised, they readied themselves.

Their eyes flew wide and their mouths gaped as the enemy appeared. They began dropping to the ground their weapons useless as the smiling, gurgling babies surrounded by tiny fluffy kittens and frisky puppies came toward them–and killed them with cuteness.

End

 

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I walk into the quiet dark house.  “Hello!” I call, flipping the light switch by the door. “Where’s everybody?”

No answer.  I walk to the kitchen.  The back door is open but nobody’s in the moonlit backyard.  I’m puzzled.  Gracie wouldn’t go off and leave the door open.  I feel uneasy.

I haul my cell out to see if maybe I’ve missed a call.  It’s not showing any, so I shove it back into my pocket.

I look around and see something on the floor by the counter.  I look closer.  There’s an overturned container on the counter and the contents have spilled out.  I glance around the kitchen.  One chair is pushed back from the table.  There’s an odd odor lingering in the air.

I start next door to see if our friend, Marcie, has seen her and the kids, but I know something’s wrong.  Gracie wouldn’t leave a mess in the kitchen.

As I cross the lawn, I catch a motion in the shadows near the back.  A large figure is sprinting toward the trees at the edge of the property.  My heartbeat quickens.  I grab the rake leaning against the house and follow.

“Hey!” I yell, “What’re you doing in my yard!”

It’s fast but I’m faster, and I’m catching up when a moonbeam illuminates the loping form.  I fall back gasping, almost dropping my makeshift weapon.  It’s a monster!  Suddenly I see drag marks in the grass and fear strikes my heart.  I resume pursuit, knowing it’s taken my family, and tackle the monster before it reaches the trees.  I turn it over, its face is horrible.

“Where’s my family?” I scream, sitting astride it.

It’s big but I’m strong, and I hold the rake handle against its throat.  Its hideous eyes are wide, staring up at me.  I scream again and it manages to point toward the woods.  I bash its head to knock it out, and I take off.

I find a strange aircraft and approach the open door.  I peer in.  I hear a noise, a soft whimper.  I go in, and find my wife and two kids stuffed into a cage!

They’re groggy but okay.  Relieved, I release them.  We return to the monster lying unmoving in the grass.  We can plainly see the thing, because, now, both moons have risen and are full.  They shine full on its dreadful, one-tone, pallid face.  I must have hit it too hard because its ghastly blue eyes stare sightlessly at the sky.

“What is it?” asks Gracie.

“It’s ugly!” exclaims Ellen, our six-year-old.

Four-year-old Bill stares, mouth agape.  My neighbors have heard the commotion and are running over, concerned.  They stop and stare, horrified.

I regard the beautiful green, white, and purple faces of my family, with perfect, round, red noses, generous red lips, and sharp, white teeth.  I smile, thankful I’ve saved them from whatever kind of monster this was.  I pull out my cell and call the authorities.

End

Get Book 1, the exciting beginning of the Boucher’s World trilogy for FREE!

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Synopsis:

 

The inhabitants of Boucher’s World have been trapped inside a mysterious Dome that has covered nearly their entire continent since shortly after people from Earth arrived on the world a little over two millennia ago. For ages, they have sought a way out, without success.

Then one day, a Human predult, a young woman named Jade, and her Cat partner, Tally, both employees of the leading pest company, Nuisance Apprehenders, Inc., were clearing pests from an area near the Dome wall and accidentally made a remarkable discovery: a door in the wall.

Thus begins the chronicles of what happens when the people of this world – which also includes another race called the Elvwists, and sentient cats and dogs from Earth – finally emerge from what had been a cage for them for so long. Will they be able to contact their home worlds? And what happens to Jade when she is kidnapped by a man who “collects” young women? Will she be rescued in time?

 

It hung on a string from the rack in the yarn shop, its red beanie button eyes staring out at the world.  It was constructed of black yarn twisted and wound into the general shape of a person; a boy, I thought.  It’s nose and mouth, such as it was, consisted of red yarn stitched loosely down the face between the eyes.  It was an art project gone wrong.

I knew immediately that I wanted it.

“Mama, may I have the doll?” I asked.

She looked down at me and frowned.  “Why would you want such an ugly thing?”

“Please?”

Her face softened as I knew it would. “Well, let me get my yarn and I’ll see how much it costs.”

The proprietor laughed when Mama asked, and patted my cheek.  She gave it to me for free.  We left the shop with me happily carrying the doll in my hand.

I set the little figure on the small chair in my bedroom, turning it so that it faced the room door.

“What are you going to name your doll?” asked Mama when she came to tuck me into my bed that night.

“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”

She smiled and gave me a kiss, turning out the light as she left.

Later, I awakened to hear the noises that came more often lately; the sound of a raised voice as Papa shouted at Mama, then the terrible sound of him striking her and her quietly crying.  The house grew still for a while after that but my stomach clenched because I knew what came next.

I watched fearfully as my door quietly opened and Papa, outlined in the hall light, edged into my darkened room.

He came and sat on the side of my bed and leaned over me as usual but this time was different.

I looked past him to see a large dark figure looming over his shoulder and before he could do the things he usually did, he made a muffled noise as a pair of black arms wrapped around his head and snatched him away from me.

I sat up and watched as he became entirely covered by the huge figure, his struggles getting him nowhere, his voice unheard.

I knew that he would never hit Mama or slip silently into my room again, and I smiled.

The next morning when Mama called me to breakfast, I picked my small yarn doll up from the otherwise empty floor and carried it to the kitchen with me.

Mama’s eyes were red and swollen and her face was bruised but she smiled at me as she placed my breakfast before me.  “Did you think of a name for your doll, yet?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I told her.  “His name is “Good Friend”.

I was five years old when Papa disappeared, never to be seen again, and life was much better for us afterward.  I’m well-grown, now, but Good Friend protects me still.

 

End

The large black and yellow orb weaver sat in its web.  It had built it in the sidelight window on the front porch of a house.

The occupant of the home opened the door to leave for work.  She brushed a thread attached to the door causing the spider to jitter toward her.  She spotted it, and letting loose a loud shriek, dropped her tote and retreated into the house.

Reemerging with a can, she liberally sprayed the hapless spider and it fell dead.  She retrieved her tote and left for work.

She didn’t notice she’d also sprayed her lunch.

 

The funnel-shaped cloud formed rapidly, as such clouds usually do.  It bore down on the isolated stretch of houses and when folk heard the warning siren they quickly ran to their cellars.

Everybody emerged once the all-clear sounded and immediately headed for their vehicles.  Eyes were tearing up and people were retching.

Zeke cursed through bouts of vomiting as he staggered toward his truck.  He yelled to his wife and kids, “Git in! We gotta git outta here fast!”

“Whut’s that stench, Zeke?” moaned his gagging wife, clinging to a screaming, upchucking baby.

“It wuz a goddamned skunknado!”

END

(With apologies to Sharknado)

“No.  I cannot.”

“Oh com’on, Max!  You already have some of the right colors.  Why, that pink is perfect! And the blue – it’s the exact shade needed!  All you have to do is put this on–”

“No!”

I did not wish to be harsh with him, as he was a friend, but I still had bad memories from the last time I agreed to impart such aid.

“Do you recall what occurred when I assisted Nick when his leg was broken?” I asked.  “I would not care for a repeat of that, and this is a similar situation.”

Everyone had heard of the problem that arose during that event.  It had not been a pleasant  moment.

“Aww…the kids will be so disappointed!  If only my foot hadn’t got snagged in that thing.”  He shook his head, and sighed.

He sat down and stretched out his leg, observing his bandaged appendage.  It had been caught in a trap.  He sighed again, rather sadly, then peered at me.  His large, brown, watery eyes appeared to beseech me.

I beheld him.  He was truly a woebegone sight, and a sudden feeling of compassion arose within my chest.  I felt contrite.  I had known him for years, and he was an excellent friend.  My brain was telling me it was not a good idea, but, I reconsidered.  And so, with a sigh, I surrendered.

“I will do it, but I do not think the suit will fit.  It appears to be much too small.”

There was relief on his expressive face, and it lit up with elation.  He hobbled – with a little hop – over to hold the suit up to me.

“Hey, no worries, Max.  It’s adjustable.”

So I struggled into the suit and he handed me the items I would need to implement the job.  I felt foolish.

“I feel foolish,” I said.

“Oh, you look fine!” he said, waving me off down the walk.  “Don’t let anybody get a close look and you’ll be good.”

I studied the controls of the waiting vehicle and ensured that all the packages were properly affixed.  I sincerely hoped that matters would proceed much better while making deliveries for him, than they had when I substituted for Nick at Christmas, wherein I was discovered by the family at my final stop.  They had not appreciated an eight-foot tall, horned, blue demon in a red velvet suit, placing presents under their holiday tree.  They dialed 911 and I had nearly been exposed.  Had that occurred, I would have been dispatched back to Hell.

As I prepared to leave, Bun Rab called to me, “Don’t forget to hop!  It helps keep you unnoticed!”

I made sure the hoodie-type head covering with lop-ears attached, was straight; felt to confirm the cotton-tail was in place, cranked up the Easter cart, and set off down the Bunny Trail to begin the delivery of Easter baskets.

At least the color of the rabbit suit matched my pink eyebrows.    ###

Noise

 

I hear a noise and look around to pinpoint its location.  It appears to be coming from the corner by the window.  It’s the chirping of a cricket.

I go to check but it has moved along the wall.  I follow.  I stand still and listen.

Again, the sound has moved, now across the room to the opposite wall.

I am annoyed and determined to catch the cricket, so I continue to follow, flyswatter in hand.

Then, the sound comes from midair, in the center of the room.

Slowly, horrifyingly, it dawns on me.  The noise is in my head.

 

End

This drabble was inspired by a true story.  The names have been changed to protect the somewhat innocent.

 

Pedaling Hard

 

“What are you doing, Sophie?”

“Gotta get this done but they keep popping off every time I try!” She sounded quite aggravated.

“Hmm… lemme see,” mused Dan, studying the problem. “Oh, lines not long enough.  Well, I can help you out.”

He straddled a chair in front of her, stuck one foot out and commenced to pedal the treadle. “Hold on tight and lean forward!” he said loudly over the ensuing whooshing noise.

She nodded and pushed the suction cups down firmly while he pedaled.

The pump thumped, filling the bag, and together, they managed to get her properly milked.

END

I mourn as I try to hold the ragged fragments in my hands.  They bleed through my fingers, falling softly and settling into a small, sad heap.

My heart is heavy as I make careful attempts at rescue.  It is of no use.  Try as I might, I cannot make it whole again; my feeble efforts only cause further damage.

I voice my anguish to an empty room.  It was a great idea for a story, written on a napkin.  Why didn’t I empty the pockets of my jeans before I threw them in the wash?  Now it’s forever gone.

End

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