MagicEightBall's Stories

Reasons

2007-12-24T14:13:43Z

I have to admit, I only married her out of a sense of obligation.

Alphabetical Alliteration

2007-12-13T14:47:25Z

Allen Alfredson, was a brutish bully, constantly conniving and doing dastardly deeds. Each elegant eaglet that flew free from him grieviously grew into a horrific harpy, indicating irrationality.

Joining jaguars, jackrabbits, kangaroos, kinkajous, llamas, lions and lemurs, many mighty mammals nearsightedly neglected nabbing (or other options), perhaps persuading people to quickly quarantine the quixotic Allen.

Rather repulsive results soon started showing. To teach the terrible Allen understanding and unity, a very vociferous vizier wished wisdom, xerostoma and xanthoma. Yet, young yaks still left the zany zoo zonked.

Has it already happened?[Mode For Love Challenge]

2007-12-10T21:37:51Z

Kevin held the receiver in his hand, his palms slick with cold sweat. He looked at the numbers, let his fingers touch, but not actually dial the digits.

Should I call her?

His friends all knew he was in love. They’d been teasing him mercilessly for two weeks, wondering when they would finally get to meet the woman that had him acting like he’d lost his marbles. But Kevin wasn’t sure they were ready yet.

Will they like her?

He knew they would mock him. They all thought of themselves as progressive, but this was way beyond what any of them might think was normal.

She’s just perfect for me

The sound of her voice was all it took to send shivers up and down his spine. He knew in his heart of hearts that he was madly, desperately, deeply in love. He’d already called six times today, but one more wouldn’t hurt. He needed to hear that voice tell him one more time how much he meant to her.

Slowly, he dialed the number once again.

“Hello, thank you for calling. Please press one….”

The Only Escape is Death [Desperate Monologue Challenge]

2007-12-06T21:13:27Z

I wish I wasn’t here. I just want to go home. God, why can’t they just hurry up.

I know what will happen. Eventually it’ll be my turn, just like everyone before me. They’ll call my name, tell me to stand behind the line, shoot me. Just like all the miserable slobs before me. I know it’s coming…why does it have to take so freaking long?

It feels like I’ve been here forever. I swear, this place is designed for torture. Hundreds of people, stuffed in here like sardines. All we do is stand around, shuffle our feet. Try to stay awake. God forbid they give us a chair, or even a bench. Never crosses their minds that we might be tired or hungry or thirsty.

They bark orders, and if we, the sheeple, don’t move fast enough for them, then there’s hell to pay. Would it hurt them to treat us like human beings for once?

Oh man. I gotta pee. This sucks. I’m never gonna get outta here. I swear, I’m gonna pee my pants. Oh man!

This is the last time I drink a grande latte before going to the DMV .

[Abstinence] Channel Surfing

2007-11-30T18:44:33Z

I’m sitting on the couch, remote in hand and there’s nothing on. I have 832 channels, and there isn’t a goddamn thing to watch. I hate channel surfing.

CLICK
A man and a woman holding hands.
CLICK
A woman kisses a man on the cheek.
CLICK
A giraffe sticks out it’s abnormally long tongue.
CLICK
The power antenna on a car goes up.
CLICK
A farmer milks a cow.
CLICK
A woman eats a hot dog.
CLICK
A bearded man eats a clam.
CLICK
A man climbs into a HazMat suit.
CLICK
A train speeds down a tunnel.
CLICK
An In-N-Out commercial
CLICK
More In-N-Out commercials
CLICK
An earthquake.
CLICK
A cow moos.
CLICK
A volcano erupts.
CLICK
A school of fish swim by.
CLICK
A stadium full of people cheers!
CLICK

I told you there was nothing on.

A day in my life (part II) - Autobiography Challenge

2007-11-15T21:34:39Z

Get shoes. Go back upstairs. Put on socks that you forgot when you got dressed.

Go back downstairs. Get shoes (again). Put on shoes.

Say goodbye to cats.

Go out the door, try to get in car. Go back inside, get keys.

Say goodbye to wife and kids (ignore the cats, you don’t like them anyways).

Go out the door, wonder why you’re cold. Go back inside get coat.

Go out the door, get in car.

Pull out of the driveway, start to go to work. Turn around. Go home. Go inside get lunch.

Pull out of the driveway, start to go to work. Drive. For 40 minutes. Go inside.

Sit down at desk. Get up. Go to coffee machine. Go back to desk. Get coffee cup. Go back to coffee machine. Get coffee. Go back to desk.

Sit down at desk. Get out laptop. Stop.

Go outside, get in car, go home, get laptop, think about going back to work.

Go back to bed. Try again tomorrow.

A day in my life (part I) - Autobiography Challenge

2007-11-15T21:33:42Z

Alarm goes off. Get up. Look across room at alarm. Lie back down. Go back to sleep.

Wake up (because now the radio is playing what sounds to be Micheal Bolton, and that’s enough to wake the dead). Go across room. Turn off alarm.

Walk out of bedroom into hallway. Stop (for no apparent reason).

Try to remember what it is you’re supposed to be doing.

Notice you’re still in your pajamas. Realise you should get dressed and go to work.

Walk back in bedroom. Get dressed. Go downstairs to kitchen. Sit at table.

Realise that you never brushed your teeth, showered or shaved. Go back upstairs. Get undressed. Go into bathroom.

Brush teeth, shower, shave.

Get dressed.

Go downstairs to kitchen. Sit at table. Stare at table. Wonder what’s missing from table.

Get bowl, cereal, milk. Fill bowl with cereal, pour milk. Put bowl on table. Stare at bowl. Stare longer at bowl. Vainly attempt to figure out why you aren’t eating.

Get spoon. Eat breakfast.

Gather coat, keys, laptop, lunch. Head for the door.

A Stranger's Embrace

2007-11-14T18:16:48Z

At first, the hug was tentative, as if I was trying it on for size. She didn’t react in the slightest. I tried a little harder, squeezed a little tighter, pulled her in a little closer. Nothing.

Being stubborn, I took her lack of reaction as a challenge. I stood back a moment and gave her a long hard look. Standing there in the gallery I hugged her. I mean I really hugged her. Slowly but surely, I put my heart and soul into that hug.

I hugged her like I hugged my teddy bear as a child in the dark night. I hugged her like I hugged my mother after I was lost and then she found me. I hugged her like I hugged my grandfather when he gave me my first pocket knife. I hugged her like I hugged Clarissa, back when lust overrode reason. I hugged her like I meant it, and I did.

Slowly at first, but with increasing urgency, she hugged me back. After what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few minutes, she stepped out of my embrace.

And none of what you hear

2007-11-02T19:58:33Z

He blinked slowly, trying to regain focus. The futility of that particular exercise became immediately apparent. Hauling hard on his cigarette, he used what little mental capacity he had remaining to turn away from the dead squirrel in the ashtray, and back to his coffee.

As he slurped noisily on the dark thick gunk in the cup trying to pass itself off as coffee, he felt the wheels of cognition slowly begin to turn again.

“Caffeine,” he thought “has to be the greatest thing in the Universe.”

Taking another drag on his cigarette gave him pause though, as he considered nicotine’s place on the universal ladder of greatness.

The combination of stimulants very slowly wormed its way into his brain, allowing coherent thought once again. He set down his cup, next to the ashtray, and was shocked to see the dead squirrel get up. It chittered noisily, and proceeded to take a sip from his mug.

The waitress behind the counter looked over.

"Aristotle likes his coffee the way he likes his women. Hot and black."

The Room

2007-11-02T16:22:15Z

He sat on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, head in his hands. He didn’t move much. Just the occasional shuffle of his feet on the cold concrete. The cold floor must be making his feet hurt.

He’d been like that for hours, almost catatonic. Not that there was much to see or do in that room. Cinder block walls, painted in that pukey green colour that was supposed to keep them calm, but really only served to make us all numb. The bed was steel-framed, painted white. Its lumpy mattress was covered with threadbare sheets and a single, thin blanket.

The only break to the monotonous green walls was the door. He sat with his back to it, as if ignoring it might cause it to open. It wouldn’t, of course, but facing the door made him feel the need to act. He’d learned, a long time ago, that action was futile. If there was to be only inaction, he needed his back to the door.

dark

2007-11-01T16:38:26Z

It’s dark in here. Dark the way I like it. No one can find me here. Here in the dark. I like that no one can find me here in the dark, where I can be alone. All by myself, in the dark.

It’s quiet in here. Quiet the way I like it. Quiet here in the dark. Quiet enough that I can hear my thoughts. I like that I can hear my thoughts. Out there, it’s too noisy.

Too noisy to hear my thoughts, to hear what they say to me. I like what they say most times. My thoughts. They say nice things, my thoughts. Most times they say nice things.

Sometimes though, my thoughts say bad things. Bad things, my thoughts say. Things that hurt. Out there, my thoughts say bad things. Too noisy, I can’t hear my good thoughts. I run and hide from my thoughts. I hide in the dark. All by myself in the dark.

It’s dark in here. Dark the way I like it. In the dark, I can hear my good thoughts.

Freedom To Choose

2007-03-30T21:26:16Z

His features went flat and cold when he got angry. He wasn’t the type to yell and scream, or make a big scene. You knew that the less he was reacting, the angrier he was. So, it was no surprise that he simply turned and walked away that morning. He said nothing as he opened the front door, walked into the bright sunshine, and never set foot in that house again.

She tried to find him, tell him that the kids missed their Daddy, tell him that she was wrong to treat him that way, tell him anything he wanted to hear just to get him to come home. It was useless. He knew how to hide better than she knew how to look.

He left knowing that he was abandoning his family, his home, everything that he had worked so many years to achieve. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was free. Free from feeling inadequate. Free from always being told he was wrong. Free from feeling selfish when he did something for himself.

He was free to live the life he chose, not the one she chose for him.

Happy Birthday

2007-03-26T19:08:47Z

Thirty-six years Bob had sat in the same place, in the same building, done the same job. Maybe the tools had changed, but the job hadn’t. Bob had managed, barely it seemed sometimes, to keep up with the technology. He did his work, kept his head down.

Until that morning, when Tyler had called Bob into his office. Bob hated Tyler. A twenty-something Harvard MBA , Tyler Goodwell thought he was God’s gift to the planet. Maybe even the universe. Bob thought Tyler was a jackass. A monumentally stupid jackass.

“Bob” said Tyler, “Have a seat. Be right with you.”

Bob sat down and wondered what the hell was going on. Tyler was one of those people that never sat down. Always on the go, he managed his employees via Blackberry. A face to face meeting meant something big.

As Tyler hung up the phone, he grabbed a folder full of papers off his desk, and thrust them in Bob’s direction.

“I’m sorry Bob, we’re letting you go. Sign these papers, leave them with my secretary.”

“Oh, and before I forget, happy birthday.”

Let me start again

2007-03-16T15:50:04Z

First off, know that I hate tea.

I hate the pretentious, arrogant socialites that hold their pinkies up as they sip from their bone china cups. The way they titter and snicker, like the rest of us are some big joke that only they can hear.

I hate the way the English hold up tea time as some sort of last bastion of civility. The way they think that just because they stop killing themselves for a couple hours every day to have a drink, and maybe a cucumber sandwich, they’re somehow better than everyone else.

I hate the way the health-food whack jobs keep yammering on about green tea, black tea, oolong tea, this tea, that tea. Tea is going to save us from all the vile crap we keep using to poison our bodies. Antioxidants and vitamins to counter the cheeseburgers and cigarettes.

This is getting me nowhere. Let me start again.

Oops

2007-03-16T14:12:19Z

He sat, well, not so much sat, as fell into, which was still quite the accomplishment of balance, given that he’d already drank a half-gallon of wine, the really expensive kind too, that comes in a bottle, from a faraway place like California, where it’s sunny, not like here, where it never does anything but rain, instead of one of those cheap ones that comes in a box from the place down on the corner that smells like cat urine, and has that strange man outside that talks about his love affair with a zebra, in a chair.