WTAFiction

Hi loves, this is my entry for NYC Midnight's 100 word Microfiction 2022, round 2. The assignment was genre: comedy, action: shaking, word: cheap. I entered the first one, but I had a couple other drafts I thought were funny, so I'm including them after. Take three, they're small and light, they won't go right to your hips! _____________ "Fiddling while Rome Burns" Another scorching day. “Climate change is killing us,” I grumbled. “Talk is cheap. We gotta do something!” Samantha grabbed her Ouija board. My fingers shook as we touched the planchette. “The spirits know all. O Ancestors, we beg your wisdom!” Sam cried. The board trembled. The suddenly chilly planchette shivered into motion. “Spirits, can we heal our Earth, repair this environmental disaster?” LOL I’m from Pompeii , it spelled. You want my help? “You experienced an environmental disaster,” she whispered. “Can you guide us?” Not really. I was jerking off when Vesuvius blew. We l

Hello, loves! This is my entry for the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction 2022 contest, round 1. I was confined to     1000 words and my prompts were: historical fiction / an icehouse / a broom. _____ Synopsis: When a broomball league gets in the way of their ice-cutting operation, morally ambiguous working stiffs Clarence and Wilson scare them off, but the awkward meeting doesn’t end there. Can Clarence’s day get any worse? “Applesauce,” Clarence muttered, raking off his newsboy cap. Half a dozen jalopies with chained-up tires sat in the clearing he and Silvestri had plowed on Tuesday. The Clydesdales flicked their ears, fretting. The snow was banked up high on the shoulder. Turning the ice-wagon would be difficult. He prayed there’d be no need. Youths in floggers had spread onto the frozen lake, clowning and throwing snow at their giggling shebas.  “They’re having a wingding here?” he complained nervously to Wilson, who dozed on the bench seat. “They didn’t read our signs?” Wilson yawned. On

 Hello, my loves. This one is a partial draft orphaned years ago, written mostly to amuse fellow roleplaying gamers. I still find it amusing. Maybe I'll continue it. :) In the meantime, enjoy the gnomish hijinx. -Dux ____ “…and we are fortunate, for it is for us to set down the most thrilling adventure ever to ring end to end with truth, a story of gold and villainy, of heroism and true poetry.   You are particularly blessed, as you have this candid window into my travels in unedited form; may you be blessed by my curse of rheumatism!   Scribe, let us begin the work.” “Oh, thank God.” “Ahh, so it is like that?   I weary you already?   I will have you know that before I was this genial shambles of handsome old bones, I was an esteemed explorer, acclaimed minstrel, and the foremost author –“ “AHEM.” “The foremost author, I say, of the erotic epic.” “To be a peddler of smut is no great distinction, and I do not see why the priest wishes to set down the ramblings I have heard

Hello darlings! It's round two of the 2022 NYC Midnight Short Story contest. This is my entry, written in a hurry before a road trip commenced and submitted literally from a rest stop on the way. The assignment was romantic comedy (NOT my wheelhouse), dress-down day, and a handyman. Be kind, and I hope you enjoy! -Dux "Meat Cute"  Why should a zombie apocalypse stop Jae from connecting with a new crush?  ______________________ By August, I’d resigned myself to celibacy. No speed-dating in the apocalypse, nobody worth dating, so I didn’t exactly expect to run into a hottie at the Piggly-Wiggly. I mean, if I had, I might’ve dressed a little nicer. You know how it is: no bra, Spongebob scrubs, ponytail collapsing, ALICE pack jammed with struggle meals, tampons sticking out the top.  As it was, I turned the corner of the chip aisle, chewing looted antacid, and physically ran into this tall glass of water. I yelped, “shit, shit!” clubbing him with my bag. Tampons and TUMS fle