Flash Fiction Month 2019, Day 27
Challenge #12*: David Bowie Day. Write a story worth at least 100 Bowie Points based on the following scoring system: 1 point for each non-consecutive letter Z, 5 points for each string of song lyrics, 20 points for meeting a specific word count (69, 270, 369, 599, 700), and 10 points for each reference to Bowie’s movies or personas (a labyrinth, goblins, stolen babies, bogs of stench, a magic dance, moving the stars, childhood obsessions, memory loss, one or more men that fall to earth, aliens in disguise, best intentions, unforeseen complications, dying planets, a character with heterochromia, a character that is an avid painter or art collector, glass spiders, lots of drugs, saying goodbye, dramatic departures, black stars, swansong, an alien god with a guitar, five years, a character that is bisexual or LGBTQ, a character that is struggling with mental illness, dead roses, lightning bolts, panic in Detroit). Optionally, the story must also include a character with a distaste for music.
This story is worth 1258 Bowie Points altogether.
“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!” yelled the wizard, as he crashed through the ceiling of Girth Loinhammer’s subterranean labyrinth.
“Hi Grandalf,” said Girth.
“Hi.” Grandalf the Gay stood up and brushed the dust from his robes.
“Tough day?” asked Sekhmet, once she’d finished her mouthful of black pudding bagel.
He squinted up through the hole he’d just made. “I think the eagles are getting tired of me using them like Uber.”
“Maybe you should…not do that?”
“I try not to take advantage, but I’m old, my knees ache, and I can hitch a ride with an eagle without having to climb downstairs.” Continue reading
Flash Fiction Month 2019, Day 3
“So there I was,” said Girth, “choking the chicken in the middle of the cathedral, when suddenly this fancy church guy walks in!”
“That must have been awkward,” observed Sekhmet.
“It was – but how was I supposed to know it was his pet? If you’re going to get attached to an animal that edible you should at least put a bell on it or something. Anyway, he gets all indignant and starts whacking me with his rod.”
“At which point you decide to bash the bishop?”
“Yeah, it sounds bad when you put it like that but I didn’t have a lot of choice but to beat him off. The thing is, it turns out that the bishop didn’t just keep chickens because the moment I hit him, this capuchin drops from the ceiling and just starts screeching and biting me. Naturally it had to be punished?”
“So…you spanked it? You spanked the monkey?”
Girth nodded. “I was tough but fair.”
“I’ve gotta tell you,” said Sekhmet, “your whole day sounds gross.”
“Yeah, well what have you been doing all this time?”
“Me? I’ve been right here, just flicking the bean.” She placed it on the table in front of her, lined up her shot, then pinged it into an upturned hat on the other side of the room. “I’m getting pretty good.”