The 2nd Annual 1,000 Word Challenge

Dear Readers,

As I did last year, so shall I do this year: given the popularity of the 1,000 Word Challenge, I’m bringing it back for another go around. The premise is simple: my readers submit links to photographs or artwork through the comments section (you don’t need to belong to WordPress to do that), and in the month of August, I will use 5 of them as inspiration for a 1,000 word story.

Check out last year’s for an example:

Rick, The Exploding Man

Metatron and Satan

Deep Love

August and Minerva in “Yaaard Sale”

I look forward to your participation!

~Harry

One Thousand Word Challenge: August and Minerva in: Yaaard Sale

The last installment of this year’s One Thousand Word Challenge is once again based on a photo sent by my friend Missie. She is the basis for the character of Minerva, and Matt (her husband) is the inspiration behind parts of Minerva’s beau Tobias. So, as Matt is above, I immediately thought that this would be a great chance to squeeze an August and Minerva story into the month of August. I hope you enjoy, and thank you to Sarah, Missie, and Derrick for entering photos for this event!

————————————————————————————-

“The more of this cake I eat, the further I get from wanting to be here. Because, really, that cake is the only thing keeping me here right now.” said Tobias flatly. Minerva had roped him into helping with the yard sale, guaranteeing an unhealthy supply of cake as a thank you. He regretted making the joke that it should be a “Yarrrrrrd” sale, and that he and everyone else trying to sell there would wear pirate costumes, as the eye patch he was wearing made his left eye sweaty. After tending the sale for an hour, the customers were all ready recycling their jokes.

“How’d you guys end up with so much stuff?” asked Malcolm, adjusting the tri-corn hat that was slightly too small for his head.

“Don’t ask me. This is all August and Minerva’s stuff. They needed more room for more stuff, so I guess the old stuff had to get bumped down the ladder.” responded Tobias, wiping the sweat from his eyelid. Meanwhile, inside the squat ranch house, August looked like the saddest pirate ever to walk a plank. He had been moping drearily since Minerva had convinced him to sell off some of the old tools and books. Standing by the window and peering through the gauzy curtain, he watched as a round woman bobbed amongst the small crowd, holding up an old Zuni fetish doll and yelling for her husband to take a look at it.

“I thought you were okay with this.” Half a statement and half a question, Minerva patiently waited for August to open up. She had known him long enough to realize that she couldn’t pry anything out of him.

“I was, but now that I see it happening, I have my doubts. Everything out there was something I used to either save a life or exorcise a devil. It just tugs at me; these people just think they’re buying random crap, and most don’t care about what the story is behind any of it. Most of them will probably bring what they buy to be appraised, hoping they found something worth more than what they paid for it.” Minerva saw that August was feeling morose, and wanted to try to cheer him up.

“But think about what we’ll be able to do now. With the money we make here, we’ll be over the amount we need to get our hands on that ratty copy of the Necronomicon you’ve been eying. I have to admit, even I’m curious about what’s in it.” said Minerva. There were few copies of the Necronomicon in existence, and August happened to find one in a used bookstore. The strange fact was that the particular copy he found was unbound from its original cover and spine. It was then rebound, and hidden inside of a leather bound antique copy of Lord of the Rings. The owner had just assumed that there was a printing mistake and upped the book’s price.

“You are right, but it still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.”

Outside, Malcolm and Tobias were inspecting a cross made out of wood and covered in rust colored stains. Turning the cross over, Tobias sniffed it.

“It can’t be.” said Malcolm warily, “They wouldn’t put something like that out.”

“Oh crap!” yelled August as he sprinted from the door, nearly knocking over a doddering old man.

“It is.” said Tobias dramatically. “Cherry preserves.” August arrived, flustered and breathing heavily. He pulled the cross from Tobias, who grinned knowingly. Each tooth was a word, forming a humbling paragraph; the cross had been once driven through the heart of the famous vampire called Orlock, and was not an object to be sold at a pirate themed yard sale. As Malcolm walked away, Tobias almost spoke, but before he could let a word fly, the old man that August nearly knocked down was asking a question.

“Is Minerva here?” he asked, his accent denoting a Slavic origin.

“I’ll go get her.” volunteered Tobias. August studied the man closely, noting his deep green eyes. They looked like the eyes of a younger man; as he studied him, his wrinkles seemed to start to smooth out.

“You can see through my illusion. Impressive.” congratulated the man. Once August’s concentration was broken, he saw only the illusion again.

“Who are you?” asked August.

“I am Minerva’s grandfather, Adrian. There is an important family matter which I must speak with her about.” replied the man. August felt uneasy, until Minerva appeared, hugging the man with delight. The two spoke quietly, away from the crowd. August tried to listen, but felt ashamed every time he caught a word. When the conversation was over, August had sold the Zuni doll to the round woman and was answering the questions of a college aged man wearing a sombrero.

“Sorry to butt in August, but the sale is over.” said Minerva with a grin, “My grandfather has bought the whole collection.”

“What!” exclaimed August. The sombrero clad man’s face became somber as he walked away, disappointed.

“He wants to help us build the business, but he doesn’t want to be too overt about it, so he’s buying everything we have here. He’s incredibly generous.” gushed Minerva gleefully. When Adrian left, driving a minivan with a UHaul attached, August couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“That was anti-climatic.” said Malcolm, still trying to adjust his ill-fitting hat. “Just comes in, buys everything, then leaves.” The four looked at the remains of the yard sale and shared a sigh.

“At least this is good for the business. We’ll be able to pick up some new books for research, maybe even start advertising more.” Minerva was beaming and August didn’t want to ruin her mood. Seeing her happy made him happy, and her smile drained away much of his uneasiness. August tried to convince himself that he was just being paranoid. In their business, it was difficult to remember that sometimes, just once in a while, someone could be genuinely nice. So, while August let the joyful tide take him, he kept an eye out for any sharks that might be prowling around.

1,000 Word Challenge: Deep Love

Ever since I saw this delightful salt cellar made by Missie, which was once on sale in her Etsy shop, I have had but one thought: this is the kind of thing Deep Ones would bring with them on a picnic. So, when Missie submitted this as part of the 1,000 Word Challenge, I decided I would need to tell this 1,060 word story.

————————————————————————————-

The sea undulated; its waves flowing like a thousand serpents under a bedsheet. The cold, indifferent Atlantic slapped against the stony shore. Water dripped off of me as I clambered amongst the rocks. My body was not used to the land anymore; I’d been living in the sea for nearly twenty years, emerging only to see Catherine. I could see her high above, looking out over the sea. She was waiting for me. My blessing divided us, but it could not destroy our love. Her hand rose above her head as she waved enthusiastically. I croaked an excited hello; walking closer, I saw that her hand had started to develop webs between her fingers.

“Your change has started.” I said, “I’m happy. Soon, you will be able to return to the sea with me.” Her smile vanished as I spoke, her enthusiasm fading like driftwood in the sun. She sat on the blanket she brought with her and began unpacking a small picnic.

“I’m afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready yet. I thought I wouldn’t be afraid when the time came; I thought that when the time was right, I would feel at ease. Yet, I don’t feel ready. When you left the land, you were as placid as a pond. Now that my time is coming, my soul churns like the ocean.”

“You cannot let your doubt dissuade you from your course. I had my doubts, but they washed away as I walked into the waves. The place for our kind is with our father and mother beneath the waves; the land holds no happiness for me, except for you. Now that you will soon return with me, I will never need to return.” I tried to comfort her, but I could see that I was failing. Instead of talking, I reached for a tuna sandwich and began licking the meat off of the bread.

“I’m afraid I’ll miss my family. I have so many friends now, and they are all so dear to me. I don’t know if I’m ready to surrender it all to the whims of fate.” I listened to her voice, which had started to deepen. Her eyes had also started to widen; I did not notice how much of the change she had undergone. She was becoming more beautiful in my eyes. I watched her as she delicately ate a piece of cheese with a salty rind. She smiled at me when she noticed my staring.

“We’ve been together too long for you to look at me so longingly.” she said.

“Yet, you are more beautiful than ever.” I said, trying to smile. We sat together quietly, enjoying the sound of the rolling waves. After a while, I noticed that the warm sun was starting to dry out my skin. “I need to go back to the water, dear. Would you like to swim?”

“I cannot; I need to go back to town. I will see you again next week?”

“As always,” I responded quietly, feeling crestfallen. I watched her walk away towards Innsmouth, the town I once called home. I called after her, but she didn’t hear me, so I followed her a short distance. She entered a car on the passenger side, and when I saw it was a young man driving, jealousy flooded through my veins. My squat legs carried me back into the ocean. The waves lapped over my webbed feet as I glanced back at the land. With a leap, I plunged into the water and swam under the waves. I swam deep into the darkness, where the light of the sun could barely be seen. The others of my kind congregated, swarming around our mother called Hydra. Her many eyes watched her children, grandchildren, and a dozen generations of our kind. The one-hundred youngest amongst us suckled on her many breasts, taking the sustenance they would need to grow strong.

“Mother!” I cried out, and one of her eyes fell upon me.

“Yes, young one?“ Her voice poured into my head, filling me with warmth.

“She turned against me, Mother! I saw her with a man. She left me to be with him. She refused to join us below the waves.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Crush them! Destroy them! Raise up the ocean and wipe them from the land.” Anger consumed me as I spoke irrationally. Hydra moved her immense body and the waters swirled violently. Her hand reached out, and I floated above her palm. With her attention focused on me, my brethren grew envious.

“I will not do this. If you would have revenge, you must take it yourself. Go to the land, find your revenge, but return to me safely.” Her words calmed me and stayed with me as I delved into the depths to find my harpoon.

By nightfall, I returned to the land and made my way to Innsmouth. The town was busy, its winding streets infested with tourists, and looked like clogged arteries ready to burst. I stayed in the shadows as I shambled through the back alleys. I saw Catherine’s home, the home I had paid for years earlier, and in front of it sat the car. A silver BMW. I crossed the street and peeked through the front window. The young man was sitting on the sofa Catherine and I bought nearly thirty years ago at a small antique shop in Arkham. He looked comfortable and content.

Catherine walked into the room, seeming like she was floating on the air. When her eyes caught a glimpse of me, she nearly screamed. The fear in her eyes confirmed my suspicions. I clenched the harpoon in my hands, feeling the cold, wet, unyielding steel. Rusty, but still sharp. I could see myself plunging the harpoon into that man who looked so human and weak. Yet, I refrained. She would undergo the change eventually, and then she would be mine.

Standing across the street, I hurled my rusty harpoon at the car. It landed true, piercing the front tire and burying its tip deep in the wheel well. The man rushed to the door, and I allowed him a glance of my form in the shadows. His face contorted with fear, he rushed back into the house. Content, I walked through the alleys, making my way back to my home.

1,000 Word Challenge: Metatron and Satan

Sarah sent this picture to me, which prompted the story below. This picture seems to be worth 1,065 words. I think this is kind of a contraversial story. While I have used a lot of characters from mythology in the past, these are characters that a great number of people still believe in. I haven’t purposely set out to offend people, but sometimes these things happen.  

————————————————————————————-

The sunlight poured over the barren moonscape, bathing the desolate satellite with warmth. A fat creature, blue skinned and bearing three mouths and three faces, grinned wildly as a young angel winged his way through the cosmos, landing lightly on the moon’s surface.

“The light warms me so, friend. Too long have I sat away from it.” The blue creature spoke with a friendly tone. The angel winced at the creature’s cacophony of voices, each gurgling and strained.

“I am no friend to you, Satan.” replied the angel, who wore a crown upon his fiery brow. Relaxing his thirty six wings, the angel fixed his three-hundred and sixty five eyes upon Satan, who laughed deeply. Metatron, the scribe and a prince among angels smirked at his fallen brother’s laughter.

“Friend or not, it is done, isn’t it?”

“Yes, the decision has been made.” replied Metatron as his gaze wandered to the Earth below.

“There is such peace now, without them.” observed Satan, sitting down in the dust and resting one of his chins on his open palm. “All the fuss over them, and now they are gone and we return back to the beginning. Is He rebuilding?”

“That is less and less your concern, Fallen One. There is still a matter of your transgressions.”

“But He is a forgiving God, isn’t he?” asked Satan with a wicked grin, “And I am willing to forgive if He is.”

“He doesn’t seek forgiveness. He seeks your repentance.” replied Metatron.

“I was made as He made me to be. There was nothing else I could do. I was created to serve Him and only Him. Did He expect me to serve any other? He needed an other half, and that is what He made me to be.” Satan dusted off his legs and willed a pair of wings to sprout from his shoulders. With a couple of beats, he began to ascend. Metatron followed, wary of the fallen angel.

“He let you out of your realm; He only wishes your submission to His Will.”

“I was not made that way, and you know that it true. Do you still sit in Heaven, Metatron?” asked Satan as the pair soared through the void of space towards the silent earth.

“I do.” answered Metatron hesitantly.

“So then you remember what you needed to do to gain that privilege? You needed to submit to God; you were beaten just to prove that you were not His equal.”

“That is the truth, but what of it?”

“Do you hold a grudge against God for His actions?”

“I do not. He does what must be done.”

“That is a truth we could argue until all of creation unravels. The truth I propose is that you were made to bear that punishment, so you can feel no anguish over its performance. You hating God for His beating would be like a human hating his lungs for breathing. He does not do what He must; we just do as He made us.”

“Your argument has become convoluted. I won’t listen to it any longer.” said Metatron. “Now turn around; the Lord comes.” Satan turned his back as reality warped and twisted. “He speaks through me.” said the angel. Satan rolled all six of his eyes.

“Then speak His words! Is it to be a lake of fire then? That is what was always said.”

“There will be no end for you, My child.” said God through Metatron. “I would not so easily cast away something I have made. You still have value, even if you cannot see it.” Satan listened, taking God’s words lightly. He simply waited, anticipating the worse.

“I want you to try where I have failed.” said God through Metatron. Satan’s jaws fell open as a surge of power bore through him. “Metatron spoke truly, as did you. I can only do as I must. Each of my creations can only do as I allow them to. You, my flawed creation, might be the answer. You were made to be free. You were made to be defiant. I ask you simply; remake the world. Use My power. I have failed, and I wish to see if you will succeed.”

“This is a game. This is just as we did to Job. You are only doing this to prove me wrong. This to humiliate me further. I will not have it!” raged Satan, keeping his eyes averted from Metatron.

“I ought to have known. You were made to defy me; you would not do this for me even if I begged.”

“That is right. I know your games, and I will not play them again. Let the world rot. It is what you deserve.” Satan flapped his mighty wings and began to fly towards the sun. Basking in the light, his skin began to change to fire. His faces began to melt, and his wings began to multiply. He couldn’t believe what was happening to him; he was becoming an angel again.

“I would have you by my side again, no longer my adversary.” said God through Metatron.

“Then where do we begin?” asked the new angel as it turned to face Metatron and the countenance of God. Looking upon the earth, devoid of life, the new angel smiled, thinking of the possibilities. “Must I make life? Couldn’t we leave the world as it is? It is perfect now. We don’t need to add more.”

“You may do as you will, Lucifer. You are the creator now.”

“Then, I will create paradise.”

“But who shall enjoy it? asked God through Metatron.

“I shall.”

“And when you grow lonely?”

“I shall not grow lonely. I will always have You.”

“But what if I take My Light away from you?”

“Then I would never forgive you.” replied Lucifer, staring into the eyes of God.

“But I forgave you.”

“But I am not You.” said Lucifer as he lifted a lump of clay from the ground, forming it in the image of a man. As he looked into the eye sockets he formed with his thumbs, he imagined what the creature he made would be like. Lucifer crushed the clay back into the earth angrily. “I cannot make something that will not turn its back on me. They will do to me as I have done to you!” shouted Lucifer, not realizing that Metatron was gone.

Rick, The Exploding Man

This is the first post in the 1,000 Word Challenge. The picture was supplied by my good friend Missie. Apparently, this picture is worth 1,048 words, as that is what I have written. I could easily trim it down by 48 words, but I like it as it is. So, I bend my rules. I do this so that characters can interject things like “So…” and “eh?” Yeah, yeah… I’m making excuses.

————————————————————————————-

“So, you still have that problem, eh?” Kevin looked at me through his sunglasses; I always hate people that try to have conversation while wearing sunglasses, ‘cause you can’t see their eyes. Eyes tell a lot about a person, and being a former superhero, I’ve grown accustomed to always establishing eye contact.

“It’s not really a problem. I got it under control.”

“Come on Rick! Then what’s with the warning signs, buddy?” Kevin poked at the graphics on my t-shirt. I frowned deeply; when I got pulled over once, a state trooper found out that I could explode at will and pushed through a law which required me to wear the proper Haz-Mat signage.

“It’s just some crap I have to go through.”

“So you’re in control of your power now? That’s good.” Kevin smiled, but I didn’t know if he was happy or uncomfortable because of his obtrusive sunglasses. “Well, I got to go mingle a bit. Have a good time at the reunion, man!” Kevin disappeared into a crowd of squawking women that had been our cheerleading squad back in ’78. The thirty years hadn’t treated most of them too badly, but some of them looked like tanned mummies with tall bleached blonde hair.

I looked around for a seat and was greeted by a cheerful woman in an orange tank top. “Hey Rick! I didn’t expect to see you here.” she said, attempting a hug.

“Hey Susan. It’s been a while.” Susan and I were an item back then, but my unique calling pushed her away from me. She had tried to convince me to join the army, but I wanted to stay stateside. War wouldn’t have suited me, and with the development of the neutron bomb, my skill would have been nearly useless.

“Are you still doing the hero thing?” she asked; I was suspicious that she was just making polite small talk like everyone else at the reunion, but she seemed honestly interested. Her eyes were fixed on me with curiosity.

“No, I’m too old for that now. Mostly, I work for a demolitions company. I help take down buildings and all that.” I tried to seem unenthusiastic, worried that she might think I’ve become some kind of exploding psychopath that enjoys blowing up buildings.

“That’s interesting. Did you ever get married?” She was drawing closer, close enough for me to smell a bit of alcohol on her breath. I had to wonder if she ever thought about what could have been.

“Nah. When I was working under the mask I was too busy. Now, well, I just don’t know a lot of people. How about you?”

“Married twice and divorced twice. I have a couple kids; they’re off to college now and once the nest is empty, it seems really empty.” Susan laughed at herself, “Of course an empty nest is empty. What else would it be?” We shared a smile and then there was a profound silence. I could feel the question floating in the air, fueled by cheap beer and nostalgia.

“Are you happy?” she asked, taking me off guard.

“I’m happy enough. I do honest work for fairly good pay. I mean, the money they save by having an indestructible, exploding man blow up a building for them has to go somewhere, right?” I laughed heartily.

“But are you happy not having been married? Not having kids?”

“I don’t think about it very much, Sue. My life, well, it just isn’t normal. I never had the same expectations as everyone else. Take Kevin; he was good at football, and his big dream was to join a pro team. He played a bit in college and in semi-pro teams, but he eventually settled into a middle management job at Stuyvesant Industries. That kind of thing isn’t really available to an exploding man. I mean, my vocation was pretty much handed to me at birth. I’m an exploding man, so I explode, you know?”

“I wish I could have had that kind of direction in life. I just feel like I’m like a butterfly, flitting around from place to place without any plan. When we were together, it was different; I had a dream. We could have been something. Me and the exploding man; imagine that.” Susan smiled, her cheeks flushed.

“We could have been something, but we weren’t. It wasn’t meant to be, Sue.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying; this was the girl I had always wanted to be with and always wondered what would have happened, yet I was pushing her away. It wasn’t that she had grown older; in fact, she was more beautiful than ever. I just thought about the men that she had been with before me, instead of me, and I felt the explosion start growing inside of me.

“We could be something still, Rick. We aren’t dead yet.”

“No, but you are drunk.”

“I’m not drunk, just a little buzzed. I’m buzzed and I’m seeing clearly.”

“Don’t do this, Sue.” I began to remember why I hadn’t let anyone into my life since Susan. The explosion was pushing at the lining of my stomach; the explosion was made of the anguish I felt when she dumped me for Edward Fay. It was made of the disgust I felt when I learned she had sex with him on their first date. It was made of the fear I felt about having a lonely life without love. When I tried thinking of Susan’s proposition in a positive light, I just thought of her children: living proof of her relationships with other men.

“What’s wrong Rick?” she asked in a tender tone that grated against the building explosion.

“I need to go Sue. This was a bad idea.” I walked away from her, looking back to see her standing alone, looking as though I just smacked her. Swiftly, I walked through the park where the reunion was being held and broke into a run when I saw a large pond. Leaping into it, I felt the water’s cool embrace. I let the explosion go, and it sent a torrent of water fifty feet into the sky. As the water rained back down, I decided that this would be the last high school reunion I’d attend.

The 1,000 Word Challenge

Hello Readers,

I have an idea. I call it the 1,000 word challenge. I don’t know if you have noticed, but several of my posts run about 1,000 words long. I usually do that so a reader can get a bit of fun and excitement, taste the story, and come back later for a bit more. Well, the thing is, I seldomn write a complete story that is only 1,000 words long. Now, this is where you’re going to come in.

You know how they say that a picture is worth 1,000 words? What I’d like you to do is leave a comment and either leave a picture in it, or link to a picture. Then, during the month of August, I will write four 1,000 word stories inspired by 4 of those pictures.

Are you in on this? It could be a fun time.

Thank You for Reading and (Hopefully) Participating!

~Harry