I’m finishing edits on Mega 5, but I still have time to get y’all your weekly fix of micro-fiction!
YOU! ARE! WELCOME!
And, since I’m never one to stand between a person and his or her fix, how’s about we get this show started?
Crushed beneath ten tons of cement, Horace was seriously rethinking his career choice.
“Golem needed,” the ad had read. “Exciting work environment. Pay DOE.”
Horace hadn’t ever been a golem. He was a rock troll by birth, a creature of the dirt and mud by nature, and an opportunistic worker by personality, so the gig intrigued him. But he wasn’t jewish.
“No problem,” the manager said. “We’re open-minded.”
He wondered if “open-minded” was actually code for “goes through a lot of golems”.
As Horace lay there under ten tons of heavy cement, he thought he knew the answer.
Disclaimer: Read the contract!
Another Friday is upon us and it is HEAVY! Get it off! GET IT OFF!
Hey, guess what? BookRiot listed the top 30 best writing podcasts and Writing In Suburbia is in the top ten! Nice!
You can click the pic and check it out! Free to listen to, free to subscribe to, worth its weight in gold.
Now, how about some of that tasty, tasty micro-fiction?
Norris set the flame to low and let the pot simmer. The smell was intensely delicious and he had to restrain himself from ladling out a bowl right then and there.
But he needed to be patient. It wasn’t ready. To eat it before the meat was tender and the flesh was broken down would be such a waste of a good kill. Norris was not one that tolerated waste.
He set the table and poured himself a drink. One drink, one table setting. Norris hadn’t seen another living soul in months.
Norris sipped his drink and waited.
Disclaimer: Don’t eat the brown.
Each and every week you get free micro-fiction from my brainpan to yours! 100 words that are all yours to do with as you wish! [Not as you wish. Copyright and all that, ya know. I was just being silly. Shut up.]
Hey! You! Haven’t read Salvage Merc One yet? WHAT THE WHAT? Well, now’s your chance! $.99 for only a few hours more! HURRY!
Oh, and if you like the first one then you can now get the second one, Salvage Merc One: The Daedalus System, AS AN AUDIOBOOK! CRAZY! [Heads up that Audible goofed and hasn’t posted the cover yet.]
Click the pics, yo. Get some SM1 in your life!
Now, on with the show!
Natives Not Friendly
The beach was covered in crabs. Three, four inches wide. Nasty looking claws. Or one was nasty looking. The other was kind of feeble and sad. It must have had claw envy.
“Why are there so many crabs?” I asked Doug. “Is this called Crab Beach?”
“Shut up, Mike,” Doug snapped. He tried to look at me, but both of us being buried up to our necks in sand, it made it difficult.
“You think they’ll try to eat us?” I asked.
We really should have heeded the warning sign. Literal warning sign.
“Natives not friendly!”
Happy Friday, y’all!
If it is Friday then it must be Drabble time! Yep, I have 100 words of goodness waiting for you.
But, first, how about some announcements?
Click them pics and get ALL THE DEALS!
Now, on to the drabble!
Only Two Names
Three names. Always three names. First, middle, last. That was how history remembered the killers.
Tony didn’t have three names. His parents were hippie dippy types, forever going against societal convention.
“Tony is the only name you need,” his mother had said. Not even Anthony or Antonio, but just Tony.
“More than you need,” his father had added. “The Universe knows us by our souls, man, not by our names.”
“So true,” his mother had agreed.
Tony sat there, the rifle across his legs, weeping. When it was all done he’d be laughed at, he knew it.
Only two names.
Disclaimer: What is in a name?
We are back!
Yes, the drabbles have been sporadic lately. It’s summertime, yo!
Speaking of summertime, have you loaded up on your beach reads? Your camping reads? Your books for those long car trips? No?
Well, might I suggest two titles that are perfect for summertime fun?
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Drop Team Zero is SpecOps space marines!
In Perpetuity is a mix of Full Metal Jacket and Starship Troopers!
$.99 each, people!
Now, on to the drabble!
He counted the coins before him for the hundredth time. Possibly the thousandth time. He could no longer remember.
“Worth it,” he muttered as the stacks of gold began to totter. He straightened them, steadied them, watched until they were stable again. “Worth it all.”
He kept his eyes focused on the stacks, not on the occupied chairs in the corner of the room. He couldn’t look at those. If he did then maybe it hadn’t really been worth it.
But it was worth it.
“Was worth it,” he muttered, ignoring the chairs, ignoring his family’s corpses, ignoring his regret.
Disclaimer: It’s always worth it, right?