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Postcards Stories -- three words.
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That November in DallasHe smiled faintly as he saw the curtains stir in the breeze that found its way through the lifted window. "Unusually warm for Dallas at this time of year" he thought. But everything had been unusual on this day, a day that they had planned and eagerly awaited for two years. "I wonder what history will say about our work here....no, not work.....mission. Yes, mission to change the world and rid it of a cancer that has pervaded this country too long"
It had been too easy talking that pitiful little man, that Communist wanna-be with the Russian wife, into taking a gun into the building overlooking the parade route. Nor had it taken much urging to encourage him to fire a couple of wildly misplaced shots at the occupants of the car. "You don't need to hit anyone....just cause confusion" And of course, he didn't hit anyone.
He glanced at his briefcase and suppressed his rising hysterical laughter. Inside were the gun, spent cartridges,the plans and a map of the grassy knoll beside Dealey Plaza. He had no curiosity about how many photocopiers had seen these damning documents. "Not my problem" he decided. "No worries about leaks or careless words. God, I love working for the CIA".
Next three words: deserve, market,ego
Kitty had an ego the size of the Florida senior citizen real estate market, and she deserved to die, thought Fluff. He worked part-time in the porn movie industry and due to his peripheral job had picked up the unusual nickname. He sat outside her apartment on a bench paid for by a local plastic surgeon and sipped his latte. There! He thought her curtain had twitched. He pawed the uneven fringe of his bangs out of his eyes. He'd been watching since before sunrise and he wanted to become familiar with her routines. Unfortunately, he was really getting bored. Then, her door opened. He quickly buried his nose into his newspaper. Kitty stepped daintily out of her apartment. She was beautiful. Her short bob, asymmetrically shorter on the left side, longer in front, swung smoothly about her face as she moved out to the sidewalk. Her legs appeared muscular yet somehow boneless as she walked, an expensive, but lightweight calico-colored coat around her body.
Fluff couldn't help himself. He jumped up and ran across the street, narrowly avoiding being struck by the Lexus cruising the beach road which separated him from Kitty. She saw him, paused, twitched her eyebrows, and resumed her pace.
He pushed people out of his way as he rushed after her. "Kitty!" he called. A roller skating woman lost her balance and fell. "Bastard!" She yelled. Confusedly, he stopped and looked at the woman on the ground, then turned back to his pursuit. He'd lost sight of her. Damn it!
Hands in the pockets of his windbreaker, he began the long walk to where he had parked his 25 year old Volvo. Depressed, eyes on the ground, he barely watched where he was going. Suddenly a horn was blaring and the screech of tires made him look up. A hand grabbed his shoulder, and a male voice spoke to him. "Hey, you walked on the red. That car almost hit you!" Looking about, he saw was at a busy intersection among dozens of vacationing tourists and swimsuited youths. Then he saw her. Kitty! She was in the middle of the crowd waiting for the walk sign, eyes glittering, but close enough to touch. He lost his balance, teetered on the edge of the sidewalk. She reached out between others in the crowd, grabbed him, looked up the street at the oncoming traffic, then she suddenly fell forward as if pushed from behind and thrust him backwards. With a bang, the bus hit him.
Kitty smiled.
Notes, contemporary, important
Her contemporary thought her notes were so important that he had to have them. That's why she had to die. At least in his opinion. Unfortunately for her, he stuck by his opinions.
Bob was in a race with time. His banker had just texted him and said that there was an expectation of a run at the bank. Bob had huge investments that he needed to protect or lose everything. "My life will be over" thought Bob as he weaved in an out of traffic. He was surprised to see that there were no long lines of irate people at the bank when he arrived. He rushed up to the manager, who smiled and said "Are you here to sign up for the run"?. "What?" screamed Bob...."I thought you said that there was a run at the bank". "Of course," replied the manager.."it is a run for charity". Bob promptly fainted. Ah, the of influence of texting!!levee, operation, drawbridge
Minnie turned on the radio, humming to herself as she cut up potatoes for dinner. Suddenly, she realized the announcer was saying something important. "The levee broke! Get to higher ground!" he said. She squealed, put down the potatoes and raced for the car. Desperately she searched her pockets. No keys! She raced back into the house, looking for them. Nothing. She ran back to the car, looked inside and realized the keys were inside, sitting on the seat, but all the doors were locked. She ran back into the house, looking for the spare key. Then she heard the announcer again. "The rehearsal operation for a state of emergency has been successfully completed. The drawbridge is now opened." Minnie burst into tears and fell into a chair. When she calmed down, she started to giggle, and then laughed. She realized this was actually a good thing, and she pulled out a paper where she began to make a list for emergency procedures and making up an emergency pack. She'd go shopping tomorrow.Random
Truncated
Multiply
Minnie's emergency list preparation was interrupted by the doorbell. "Who on earth would call at dinner time" she wondered. Reluctantly, she opened the door and was greeted by a strangely feline looking but faintly recognizable woman. "Can I help you", Minnie asked. "I don't have long because dinner is on the stove." "Peas, bridge, porcupine and trees", the woman spat out, continuing to add other random words in a songlike string of nonsense. "I am sorry but this conversation must be truncated. I have to check on dinner," Minnie said closing the door. Smoke was rising from the kitchen and she cursed as she rushed toward the stove. Dinner was ruined. "That ornery old bitch" she muttered. "Now I'll have to go out for dinner." Realizing that the drawbridge would now be up she screamed, "AAAAhhhh -- I'll have to wait at least half an hour and I'm too hungry!" Crankier than she'd been in a long time, she threw open the door only to find the woman standing on her step mumbling, "random, truncated, multiply". Suddenly, Minnie knew who this woman was. She was none other than the famous April the Cheshire Meow. "Aha", Minnie smiled. "you're not crazy at all! You're merely playing "Three Words". She hugged April the Cheshire Meow and invited her to dinner. "We'll have to wait for the drawbridge but we can pass the time mumbling words to each other" Minnie said, adding "I'll go first : bacon, intricate, hirsute."Bacon
Intricate
Hirsuite
Some time had passed since anyone had a girl's night. Val and April crossed the drawbridge and went into town. They met with girlfriends at Denny's. Sheila, T, and Elaine were seated at a table at the front. Val and April noisily greeted their friends as they sat down. "How's the bacon," Val asked wickedly, knowing it was a postcard word. "is this going to be a start of some intricate plot?" April asked, interested. "No," said Val, "the rules for a postcard story say it has to be short." Suddenly, shots rang out. "Here we go," said Val, resignedly. Everyone dove for the floor. "It's that hirsute man!" April whispered. "Or is it hirsuite?". "Really? Hirsute man? That's the best you can do?" Val acidly opined. Then the restaurant's door smashed open and the hairy man stood there with a gun in one hand and apparently looted jewels in the other. "Nobody move or you're dead," the short man hollered. April purred, "No, sir, it's all about you, clearly." He swung around, noticing the women on the floor for the first time. Obviously stunned at the sight, he slowly backed out of the restaurant -straight into the arms of the policemen waiting for him. The women slowly got to their feet. April brushed off her calico coat with some force. "I guess he was overwhelmed by so many literary women at his feet." Val said.Repatriate
Nonsequitur
Guard
"Boy, last night sucked", Val whined. "I mean, all we wanted to do was have a girls night out and that damned ape ruined it all." " I like marshmallows, too," April replied in her usual "non sequitur" style. Quickly, changing the subject for fear that April would be off on one long string of misplaced everything, Val asked if the group wanted to go see the changing of the "guard". Everyone thought it was a fabulous idea but no one had money for an airplane ticket to London. After a second of brainstorming, it was decided that a bank heist was the thing to do. "Hey Ho it's off to work we go," they chanted, tripping down the sidewalk towards First Fidelity. "Did anyone bring a gun?" April asked. "Packin'. Whadda ya take me for? A suckar?" T spat out of the corner of her mouth doing her best bank-heist-ese. "Um, this is not wise," Sheila murmured. " "Whadda talkin'? You a nutjob?" Elaine, copying T, snarled. "No, really. I've solved the mystery of how to get to London," Sheila whispered. "Spill it Susie!", Val added, getting into the flow. "We don't have to buy a ticket to London -- we're in London!" Sheila yelled. "Whew, now we don't have to "repatriate"!" the group said in unison. Mystery solved.nocturnal
transparent
grapefruit
Thunder sounded. Lightening struck a dead tree. In the flickering illumination Val could see a castle on a hill. Nocturnal creatures, eyes glowing from her car's headlights, spied on her as her jeep labored up the ruined road. As her head banged on the roof yet again, she ruefully wondered if responding to a letter from a long lost uncle she had never heard of was her wisest decision. 'Tell no one' was the last line of the short note, explaining the death of a great grandmother she was completely unaware existed, and how she was the sole heir of this Miss Whiskey's fortune and property. But what reason would there be to trick her? Val was dead broke, a victim of a crooked investment company which had wiped out her life savings. Ths letter was a gift from heaven, if true. Included had been an airline ticket to Romania, and a map. Val had rented a jeep at the airport , and after an six hour drive, was tired and hungry. All she had had was a grapefruit. She was nervous, but no ulterior motive was transparent to her. Finally she arrived at the gloomy gothic castle, and lifting the huge iron knocker, banged the huge wood and metal door. The rain began a thick downpour. She pulled her hood up over her head.The door slowly swung open. A cadaverous tall man stared at her. He was so pale it was as if all the blood was drained from his body. Then he smiled, his teeth very white and strangely pointy. "You must be Val," he said, his voice low and echoey. "We've been desperate for you. We must have a female owner, or the castle reverts to the state and all of us living here lose our home. Please come in. You must be hungry.". As Val moved past him, she thought she heard him say, softly, "I know we are....."
Decimal
Demonize
Dolphin
Christine wrote: "."What is the meaning of . ? Is it merely a function of putting Full Stop to all of our stories in this thread? I admit, this thread appears to be dead dead dead. ⚰️
But yet. I ponder the point! Does it mean this thread is all pointless?
Or should we take this . as a direction? In that case, which way?
👉
👈
👆
👇
🖕
Or is . a reference to the Singularity?
In science theory, a singularity describes the center of a black hole, a point of infinite density and gravity within which no object inside can ever escape, not even light. The current knowledge of physics breaks down at the singularity and can't describe reality inside of it.“ -definition by Tech Target. Or even scarier: “ Once the singularity has been reached, Kurzweil says that machine intelligence will be infinitely more powerful than all human intelligence combined.”
Oh no! But . has other possible meanings:
When I had a functional uterus, I used . to mark my calender about every 30 days or so.
When I was a student, I used . to mark points of facts in my assignments.
I sometimes use . to mark my sentences on GR with a pointedly humorous stop, kinda like a California stop…..
I sometimes substituted o or ❤️ for the . on i’s and j’s when I was very young.
I still use ( . ) ( . ) as a joke I picked up in The Martian. I find this the most hilarious use of . I have ever seen!
Sweet Revenge (taste, good, haystack)
“What the hell you doin’, woman?” he slurred at her from his seat at the kitchen table.
“I’m making your favourite cookies,” she answered, careful to keep her voice light and cheerful: she had learned the hard way that submission and survival were synonymous. “Chocolate haystacks, with the toasted almonds you love so much.”
“’Bout effing time you did something good for me, all I done for you,” he said with a self-righteous sneer, then took another sip of Jack Daniels.
Abby took the cookies out of the freezer where they had hardened into little mountains of pure satisfaction, and humbly offered them to him. He shoved a whole haystack into his mouth, letting the chocolate melt on his tongue before biting into the coconut and almonds, then washed it all down with a healthy swig of whiskey.
“These taste mighty fine,” he said, licking his lips. “Too bad there’s not enough for the both of us,” he added, laughing, as he popped another cookie into his mouth.
It didn’t take long for the arsenic to work its magic. He collapsed onto the floor, shaking and heaving up bile-laced whiskey, chocolate and bits of undigested nuts. “You...bitch,” he spat as he swung a pathetic fist in her direction, and Abby saw in his eyes what he had seen all those years in hers: panic, fear, helplessness. And for a moment she pitied him, but the moment quickly passed.
Next three words: lifted, briefcase, photocopiers