#Menage Monday, Week 14 entry over at Cara Michaels – Here
The Phrase: the more the merrier (this may be used anywhere in the story)
The Judge’s Prompt: Undead and Christmas. Per our judge (who is once more humorously in sync with my picture taking), you may use the words themselves and/or use them as themes for your story.
500 words max
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Maleia sat on her swing, sipping at the tall glass with an umbrella in it. There wasn’t any snow on the ground but the south of the country was lucky to see even a small flake. Black painted nails tapped against the glass. When she first moved to the quaint area, she thought she would be able to keep to herself. The house was an unassuming rancher that was baby blue, there was nothing that stood out and screamed that she was doing something that would be questionable.
She even followed along with the holidays of the people in the area.
She glanced at the snowman and Santa that stood there and pursed her lips before getting up. The closer she got, the stronger the stench became. A frown wrinkled her brow and she stopped and smoothed a hand over her forehead. Wrinkles weren’t very attractive and she might go out with some of the girls. They could call her a cougar all they wanted, but they were jealous that she got more drinks than they did.
“Unf. I thought the spell would last longer. She poked the upright forms and a faint groan emanated from the flimsy material. The neighborhood thought it was all air that kept them upright but she put in some extra support.
“Oh shut up. You should be happy I brought you back. You can both be together forever.” She smirked and smoothed a hand through her pitch black hair that only had hints of silver.
The snowman gave a softer groan.
“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady. Not my fault you fell back on the steps. Guess you should have been more careful on where you feel asleep. Clumsy girl.”
“Oh, I guess I better go in and fix up the smell before Mrs. Durguss’s dog catches wind of the two of you smelling up the place again. The dreadful little bugger. She’s lucky I don’t turn him into a lawn gnome. Be right back, Briar Rose. Prince Phillip.” She patted the Santa on the head.
It was a good idea to bring both the princess and prince back. They have been such handy ornaments. And she laughed every time she heard the little girls talk about how they wanted to be like Sleeping Beauty. They didn’t know that both of them were zombies in the ‘evil’ queen’s yard. If they wanted to be like that, then she was going to need a bigger yard. The more the merrier after all.
She gave another laugh.
#MotivationalMonday – hosted by Wakefield Mahon. This ends at noon tomorrow. It can be found here.
This week’s prompt is inspired by the great Charles Dickens. As always, we’re looking for surprises, You don’t have to talk about Marley, you don’t even have to write a horror story, but you do have to start from this prompt:
“That’s just great. Now my flashlight doesn’t work!”
Story must continue from the prompt. (This means the prompt is the first sentence of the story.)
No more than 500 words (not including the prompt). No less than 100 words.
Any genre (in fact an unexpected genre will get you more points.)
Entries must be submitted by Tuesday Noon EST
The winner of each week’s competition will be invited to judge the following week.
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“That’s just great. Now my flashlight doesn’t work!” Bennie smacked the flashlight against her hand as she peered into the opne doorway of the dark house. She knew there were some lights on before she left. And they were out now so the box must have blown again. If she knew that the electrician wouldn’t cost more than she had at the moment, that problem would have been fixed. But no, she decided to buy a fixer upper.
THAT was a stupid idea. The house, while roomy and quiet on its acre of land, was proving to be a royal pain in her ass. She made a face and decided to go in. She knew there was a lantern in the kitchen. She would just have to feel her way.
A deep breathe in and she put an arm out and felt along the wall. It seemed a lot darker inside than it had when she was standing on the porch waffling about going in. She took baby steps in and paused when her fingers brushed against fabric. Boards creaked.
She caught her breath, not sure if she should keep moving forward or do what her brain was telling her to do and run screaming from the house like a little girl. There was a whisper of fabric and then the lights came on, blinding her and leaving her blinking.
There was someone standing in front of her. She threw out a punch, her fist connecting with someone. There was a curse and the form stumbled back.
“HAPPY BIRTH-!” There were some gasps.
When Bennie blinked the white dots out of her eye, she saw all her friends, the balloons, the banner and the birthday cake in the living room. Then she looked down and saw her boyfriend cradling his nose. She cringed. “Sorry, honey.”