Sep 032015

Welcome to MB1.46. I’m tossing out a wild card this week, so go have fun with an X (x-ray, xylophone, Ximenes etc.) You can also use GAME or GAMES as the closing bookend. Enjoy.

The X Games is an annual extreme sports event organised by ESPN, the American sports broadcaster.The first X Games were held in 1995 and featured events such as skateboard street, barefoot water ski jumping, and street luge. Two years later the first Winter X Games were held and featured events such as ice climbing, super-modified shovel racing, and snowboarding big air. Some winter X Games events are now included in the Winter Olympic programme.

Shaun White from California, USA, who celebrates his twenty-ninth birthday today, is the most successful X-Games athlete ever, having won thirteen Winter X Games gold medals for snowboarding, and two summer X Games gold medals for skateboarding. He has also won two Winter Olympic gold medals for snowboarding. Today is also the birthday of another X-Games legend. Sarah Burke was born on this day in 1982 in Ontario, Canada. She won five Winter X-Games gold medals for freestyle ski. Not only was she a great athlete, but she also successfully lobbied the International Olympic Committee to include freestyle ski halfpipe in the 2014 Winter Olympics, an achievement for which she was inducted into the Canadian Olympic Hall of Fame. Tragically, Sarah died following a training accident in 2012 and never got to compete at the Olympics.

Here is this week’s photo prompt:

Photo Credit: Mike Fleming via CC.

Photo Credit: Mike Fleming via CC.

The Judge

Judging this week’s contest is @dazmb, winner of MB1.45. Read his winning story and what he has to say about flash fiction here.


A story of between 90 and 110 words starting with X* and ending with GAME(S) and incorporating the photo prompt.


Anyone, but especially you!


Why not! Because it’s fun. Because it’s a challenge. Because the winner will receive their own winner’s page, their story on the winning stories list, a ‘Who is the author?’ feature to be posted next week, entry into the ‘Micro Bookend of the Year’ competition, and a copy of this year’s winning stories compilation.


Now! Get your entry in BEFORE 5:00 am Friday (UK time:




Post your story in the comments section. Include the word count and your Twitter username (if you’re Twitterized). Don’t forget to read the full rules before submitting your story.

Anything else?

Please give your story a title. It will not be included in the word count.

Please try to leave comments on a couple of other stories. It’s all part of the fun, and everyone likes feedback!

Remember, only stories that use the bookends exactly as supplied (punctuation, including hyphens and apostrophes, is allowed) will be eligible to win.

  112 Responses to “Micro Bookends 1.46 – X* [micro] GAME(S)”

  1. Skate scales

    Xcitement by the pallet load. And thrills, chills; perhaps

    a few unplanned, clearly inevitable spills
    depending, of course, on your skill
    level, upright, downbeat,

    swoooooosh, splash,
    cruuuuuuuise, crash,

    I was taking a bath.
    Dew dash,
    bitch some bitters; skinned my knee,
    ran up against concrete infamy;

    Harsh mistress,

    Wheel and whip,
    Squeal and slip.Feel that busted bone;

    Whoosh and wheelie,
    Booster rooster
    With a flaming plume,
    Never! never
    enough room
    to skeetch to the breech,

    wind down in the tunnel,
    the flair and the funnel,

    grind and grommet,
    grit and trauma.


    Write the drama;
    whatever the name;
    that’s the game.

    105 death-defying rotations

  2. 01100101 01111000 01110000 01110010 01100101 01110011 01110011 00001101 00001010*


    * * *

    Brian S Creek
    106 words

    * * *

    “X1109, are you fully booted?”


    “Are you ready for another demonstration?”


    “Activate net search. Use key words; art, paint, expression, imagination.”


    “Process and develop search results.”


    “Now, we’re standing in an abandoned car park. In front of us are seventy-two separate flat concrete surfaces. On the table to your right are a selection of art media Confirm.”


    “X1109, I would like you to use what you’ve just ‘learnt’ and decorate the car park however you see fit.”


    “Just . . . express yourself.”


    “Excellent. And when we’re done, I’m going to teach you some card games.”

  3. @AvLaidlaw
    107 Words


    Xanadu in concrete, a pleasure dome where the skateboard wheels rattles and aerosol cans hiss graffiti on the walls, beside the sacred river Thames.

    “It has to go,” Mr Porlock says.

    He ticks this off on his clipboard and pushes the pen into his breast pocket. The job is done. He puckers a tiny smile as he considers the next target for gentrification. Soon he’ll clear the whole South Bank of kids with their clothes and music he doesn’t understand. They remind him too much of those dismal schooldays, the stink of the gym, the kids bullying because he couldn’t catch a ball.

    Mr Porlock hates games.

  4. jump (w/c – 105)

    ‘X …’
    No one wanted to be there … except Harold.
    ‘… Y …’
    The metal beneath their feet began to vibrate as the 15:15 train quickly approached.
    ‘… Z …’
    Harold shuffled to the edge of the railway bridge.
    ‘This is crazy, Harold.’ It was Josh, and the others nodded in agreement.
    Ever since Harold had heard of someone starting their very own Olympic style sports, he’d become obsessed with the idea of doing something similar.
    ‘… GO!’
    Harold was the only one who jumped.
    This is my sport, thought Harold as he landed in front of the speeding train.
    This is my game.

  5. PLEASE WIPE OFF THE GLASS (110 words)

    “Xerox your butt! Go ahead, I dare you!” The office Christmas party was over and the parking garage was empty. Two of the new secretaries had offered to stay and clean up (and finish the champagne).

    “No! I don’t want to break the glass! Ya know how much one of these babies cost to repair?” Sarah giggled and sloshed her drink over a stack of out-going mail. “You do it!”

    Diane undid her belt and carefully lowered herself over the bright glass. “Ooooh, it’s warm!”

    “Ok, boobs are next! You go first!”

    “Fine, I’m game if you’re game!”

  6. What’s the Difference?

    108 words

    x. In a class of 30 children, 29 go to bed at 9pm. 1 child goes to bed four hours later than this, what time does that child go to bed?

    xi. Of these 30, 29 wake up in a dry bed, what number wet(s) the bed?

    xii. If the bedclothes on the wet bed are left unwashed for a year, for how many days will the bedclothes smell?

    xiii. A child has £9 to spend on food. Their budget is £3 a day. For how long does that child expect to be home alone?

    xiv. Show as a fraction: 1 pupil out of those 30 is shunned from games.

  7. Treasure Hunt
    @geofflepard 108 words
    ‘X marks the spot.’
    ‘You’re kidding? How’d we find an X in this lot.’
    ‘The clue says tap the opening to ‘Original Sin’.’
    ‘First number one for INXS. I suppose we find it In Xs.’
    ‘Ha bloody ha. Do we know what ‘it’ is?’
    ‘Can you quit the moans and look.’
    ‘Is that an X? My eyes hurt trying to decide.’
    ‘Worth a try.’
    ‘It opened. Geez.’
    ‘Another clue.’
    ‘Great. Can I get a coffee?’
    ‘Because I’m bored rigid and I need a stimulant.’
    ‘No, goon. The next clue. It’s a Y.’
    ‘Wake me up when we get to zzzzzz.’
    ‘Come on. On with the game!’

  8. Cnsl Fr Th Prsctn

    “xhbt B yr hnr – Th mnfst pstd n th dfndnt’s wbst: “W wll dstry ll vwls nd kckstrt nw wrld f pcfl cmmnctn nd ndrstndng.” Ths s clr sttmnt f ntnt nd s why th Crwn Prsctn Srvc rqsts tht th dfndnt s chrgd ndr th Prvntn f Trrrsm ct.”

    bjctn yr hnr! My clnt s rspctd grfft rtst. Ths s rvltnry prfrmnc rtwrk, nt n ct f trrrsm.”

    “vrrld, Cnsllr. W hd t wtch Bndct Cmbrbtch’s prfrmnc n Hmlt lst nght wth Shkspr rdcd t th lvl f txt mssgs. T b r nt t b? Tht s rt, nt yr clnt’s bldy slly wrd gms!”

    107 wrds


    X-ray me and you would find my tags writ bright and boisterous, through skin and sinew down to the bone.

    Sell out or survivor? Bones break, life happens; walk a mile in my Jimmy Choos goofyfoot before you decide.

    I hit the 180, stopped my Caballerial short: the corporate cult has much in common with the streets.

    A change of costume, learn the lingo, practice your tricks; a bit of focus, it’s not so hard.

    Now, I hide my vices deep underground, set in grey concrete – cold as stone.

    A woman with a past, take me on if you dare.

    It’s all a game.

    104 words

  10. What A Pain

    “X-ray’s look good. There’s no sign of any breaks or fractures. You’ve had a very lucky escape.” The nurse smiles before leaving me to my uncomfortable gurney.
    “Tessia, come on, just give it a go,” Jace whinges.
    “Yeah, don’t be a spoil sport,” Theo chimes in.
    I look at the wall and take a deep breath. SSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH. The spray paint blasts onto the wall and I leave my tag amongst the multitudes.
    “OI!” Our rival gang come running round the corner with baseball bats and anger on their faces.
    Oh crap. A bat strikes my body. So the game…

    100 Words

  11. All of the Others
    109 words

    “Xenophobia,” the doctor said.

    “Does that mean I’m afraid of Xeno?” the patient asked.

    “Bark!” Xeno said.

    “No, Mr. SonofPhillipRobertJacobson. It means you’re afraid of foreigners. Based on your psychological review, your intense Xenophobia is causing your panic attacks.”

    “But I live on a space station! Everyone’s a foreigner!”

    “Which explains your stress-related illnesses and your three heart attacks.”

    Downhearted and dispirited Rudolph SonofPhillipRobertJacobson trudged on home. Not even Graffiti Alley could cheer him. The doctor had forbidden him from his favourite activity: Deer Vaulting. There were too many contestants on a daily basis, therefore too many foreigners.

    Poor Rudolph would never again join in all the Foreign-Deer Games.


    * * *

    Brian S Creek
    109 words

    * * *

    “Xi,” says Mike, checking his Greek dictionary.

    Chris hurries along the pedestals until he reaches the fourteenth stone. He presses it and a concealed door slides open.

    As chaos thunders throughout the city surrounding the temple, Chris and Mike hurry through the door, down stone steps, and into a dark chamber. Mike activates his phones torch app, illuminating stone walls that are decorated with ancient pictographs.

    “It’s beautiful,” said Mike.

    Another light source glows. A mighty, wise looking man garbed in white robes stands across the way. He grips a lightning bolt.


    “The Titans are free,” says Chris, bowing. “We could do with you help, if you’re game?”


    * * *

    Brian S Creek
    109 word
    @Brian S Creek

    * * *

    X-linked recessive inheritance. It’s why men turn and women don’t.

    I spent seven years in an abusive relationship, unable to escape a man I feared. He controlled me, belittled me, beat me.

    Then one day he dropped dead. I thought I was free, that God had answered my prayers and struck him down. Instead, things got worse.

    Men don’t stay dead anymore. They come back as something else.

    My home is a dark corner beneath the freeway. I eat when I can, sleep when I can. The rest of the time I hunt the bastards down.

    It’s all about survival now and I’ve got to stay on my game.


    * * *

    Brian S Creek
    109 words

    * * *




    How about W, for ‘who gives a crap’. Pythagoras, fractions, algebra; it’s all gibberish.

    Graffiti on the page.

    My son looks up with patient eyes. I’m supposed to be helping him with his homework but he’s the one teaching me.

    I struggled with it back in the day and it ain’t no easier now. I used to blame the dyslexia but Frank down the road doesn’t let it beat him down.

    My three year walks over to me holding his new favourite toy, a second hand Mr Spell. Damned thing is probably smarter than me too. It mocks me.

    “Would you like to play a game?”

  15. Living Memories

    “X could be drawn, but the eyes are the windows to the soul, right? I gave them souls because, when midnight comes and I close my eyes, they burst forth from the walls with life as vivid as before. He reads us book… You could be here this time. You could sing your lullaby and we can be happy again.”

    She looks round at the walls of my room. I can’t tell what’s she’s thinking when she hugs me. She goes to the man in the next room; the man who said my mind is playing games.

    WC: 109

  16. X-Games
    Word Count: 110

    “X-rated,” Kyle said through a smile.

    “And you found it here in the park?” Carla asked, head poking out from behind her longboard to glance at the naked curves.

    “Well,” Kyle began slowly. “I may have brought it from home.”

    “Gross! Why?”

    “I wanted to show you?”

    “Why, in everything that is holy, did that seem like a good idea?” Carla dropped the longboard and skated down the pipe.

    “Crap.” Kyle followed. When he reached the other side of the half pipe, he had enough self-preservation to look ashamed.

    “You told me you were curious about ladies…maybe.”

    Carla sighed. “That was a secret! My sexuality isn’t one of your games!”

  17. @firdaus
    ‘Xtremely xited’
    ‘Xmas tree’, green triangle with a crooked star on top, made me smile.
    I could hear giggles behind me.
    ‘Xited’, bulging eyes from a face sporting orange hair twisting upwards. One ‘xited’ fellow!
    ‘Snak’, black long thing with polka dots, couldn’t be mistaken.
    ‘Mr Caterplr’, more like ‘snak’ but green.
    The classroom wall was plastered with the children’s drawings, colours oozing joy.
    I slowly walked around like in an art gallery with well timed oohs and aahs.
    “Well done!” I turned around and applauded.
    Two dozen pairs of eyes looked at me expectantly.
    “Now how about some…” I paused and saw the glee in their eyes as I worded, “…games?”

  18. @fs_iver
    WC: 94

    I Am

    Xenolithic, I’m an imperfection in their tidy world.

    They bleach and brush and still my colors bleed through: fuming reds, hiding blues, and smiling yellows.
    I am enigma.

    Unlike their puzzles solved with numbers, there is no equation to calculate my soul, no graph compatible to contain me.

    When their man-made walls crumble, their steel skeletons bow in weariness, and their monoliths grow tired of seeking the sky, this stone will remain.

    I am everything they strive to eradicate and yet I am.

    To expunge me, is to expunge the creator of the game.

  19. @stellakateT
    110 words

    Games We Play

    “X marks the spot” he laughs handing out the treasure maps and the spades.
    He’d buried several little packs of her jewellery around the fish pond. Her Jimmy Choo’s he’d wrapped in Asda carrier bags, that was a nice touch he thought, buried beneath the Lavender. He hoped Alicia would find those. His best mate, eyes him warily. Years ago they’d tagged their hopes and dreams in graffiti under the flyover, brothers in arms. He prays Dan will find the greatest treasure of all beneath the rotting compost heap. They thought he hadn’t noticed the fleeting smiles, the eye contact held a second too long, he too could play games.

  20. Skater Boy
    W/C 109
    ‘X-skater! No way, the board stays,’ I said blowing off the cobwebs, ‘once a skater…’

    After rescuing it from the charity pile I looked upon it with fresh eyes and false memories, both of which influenced my decision to creep into the skate park after midnight.

    I had never mastered any moves but, after tentative balancing, my unfounded confidence had me hurtling towards the half pike. I carved frontside performing a 360, amazingly I landed upright.

    I searched the darkness for a witness to my extraordinary feat and whilst distracted managed to smash straight into a concrete pillar, breaking my arm.

    Skater Boy’s back in the game!

  21. Life Lesson

    110 words


    XO Cognac burned its fire down Stuart’s throat as he tried to ignore Mad Davey’s wild-eyed stare. The night was cold and his dad’s stolen brandy was the only thing keeping him warm. Would his father miss it? Miss him?

    “Share,” growled Davey. “Remember boy, I gave you a home.”

    Public toilet more like, thought Stuart, inhaling the stink of his surroundings.
    Even the brightness of the graffiti did nothing to alleviate his growing misery.

    Davey’s hand was now out-stretched towards the bottle. And he would take it, as he had taken everything else.

    It had not taken Stuart long to learn even the street had rules for its games.

  22. Playing With Fire

    ‘Xerxes! What have you done to the garage?’

    Pater’s voice is just below boiling, but he must keep his temper in check. X plays dumb.

    ‘I wouldn’t know what you’re referring to.’

    ‘It looks like an underpass.’

    ‘You’ve probably forgotten to close it again and let the kids with their spray cans in.’

    X raises his eyebrow at Pater who’s coming in for a punch.

    ‘Fancy anger management classes again, do you?’

    Pater’s fist shakes as he drops it.

    ‘You will pay for this.’

    ‘No doubt. But aren’t you glad I’ve picked up the family penchant for playing mind games?’

    (100 words)

  23. X-ODUS

    X-Official: “Give me your papers. Your papers and your money.”

    X-Pectant: “Will they be safe with you?”

    X-Official: “You will be in the graffiti-littered Hold of a leaky ship. They certainly won’t be safe with you.”

    X-Pectant: “My baby is due any time. I need air, food, water.”

    X-Official: “And your travelling companions don’t? The rest of you, what do you say?”

    X-Plosive: “It’s not my baby. Stick her in the Hold with us.”

    X-Punge: “Leave her behind if she won’t do as she’s told.”

    X-Ploit: “She may have some worth. The baby might be barter meat.”

    X-Official: “The Hold or stay behind, X-Pectant The rules of the Migrant Games.”

    110 sorrows with no end in sight

  24. The Risky Game

    “Xylophone, Daddy?”
    “Not now, Princess, I am busy. Go, play with your brother.”
    “But Jacob has to study. He says I bother him.”
    “Oh, all right. Go, find Mama, maybe she can play with you.”
    “Mama has to feed the baby, and he spits his peas everywhere. The little brat! I am not a brat, Daddy, am I?”
    “No, you are a very good girl, Sweetie. Now go, play outside for a bit.”
    “I am allowed to go by myself?”
    “Hmm, yes.”

    “Mr. Baxter, can you play?”
    Mr. Baxter’s gold ring glittered. His hazel eyes narrowed, and he smiled.
    His thick lips moved, “Come here, little girl. I am game.”

  25. The Art of Learning
    109 Words
    by @colin_d_smith

    “X, Y, Z. See?”

    Joey watched, mesmerized by Kree’s skillful spraying, directing the flow of paint with natural precision. He even used different colors to make shades and highlights so the letters popped off the wall like a comic book title.

    “Your turn.”

    Joey took the can from Kree’s hand. Kree turned it so the nozzle pointed forward. Joey gave him an embarrassed smile, but Kree just nudged him, pointing to a space on the wall. Joey took aim and formed a big black “X.” Kree smiled, so Joey tried the “Y.”

    “Sweet!” said Kree. “There’s no way you’re failing first grade, little bro. We ain’t playing that game.”

  26. @firdausp
    (110 words)
    Xerophytic plants dotted the dry surface. He nuzzled the tiny things, biting into them. They gave him little reprieve from the scorching heat. His teeth, stained by green blood, ripped some more until none were left.
    A dust cloud gathered behind him. It got bigger by the second. In front of him lay waves of sand, as far as the eyes could see.
    Then he saw a tiny speck of green…and blue. A colourful canvas painted in his head. Trees, grass—water!
    He charged in its direction, sailing across the steaming surface. They don’t call him the ‘ship of the desert’ for nothing.
    Bring it on. He was game!

  27. Skillz
    A.J. Walker

    X marked the spot where Daniel died; a senseless lonely death. We’d lived without hope then. This same X marks the spot where my life changed.

    I’m a man in demand now; the man who can – with colours and cans. My art is called for, bought and exchanged. All my teachers said it’d bring me nothing but trouble – me and my tag, but I’m earning more dough than a bakery with my skillz.

    This is where it all started, back when this underpass was quiet and a blank canvas. Now it’s beautiful – resplendent primary colours, angular in your face tags and bold art amid the brave skaters and their games.

    (110 words)

  28. Ritual
    (100 words)

    “Xavi! Where are you, hijo?”

    Her voice echoes off graffiti-stained concrete. Even here in the shadows, she knows her way. She walks the same path every night.

    Tonight’s lone skater pays no attention to her now. They’ve already exchanged words. Everyone who skates this park knows the litany by heart.

    “Have you seen my Xavier?”

    “No, ma’am.”

    “He’s about your age.”

    “If I see him, I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”

    She will continue her search until she can no longer see. Every night for fifteen years, she has called for her son.

    “Please, hijo. No more games…”


  29. Extreme Games
    (108 words)

    “X? Seriously? Is that how he signed his name?”

    “Cross my heart and may the good Lord strike me down for a sinner if I lie to you. It was all artistic, like scrawls on buildings. ”

    “An’ you took him? You expect him to cope on the front line?”

    “He’ll be excellent. You’ll see.”

    A pause as lungs are filled with acrid smoke from cheap roll ups. In the camp men busy themselves with small diversionary tasks. Deployment tomorrow.

    “D’ya think he even knows what to expect?”

    “Did any of us? Not an excuse.”

    “Surely he’s too young. You should have made an exception. This isn’t a game.”


  30. Xenogenesis
    (110 Words)

    “Xanadu…” Sam ran his hand along the xenolithic ramparts and closed his eyes with holy dread.

    “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Khan beamed.

    “Where are the gardens bright with sinuous rills, the enfolding sunny spots of greenery?”

    Khan couldn’t hide his confusion. “It’s as it always was, a palace of art and decadence.”

    “Oh!” Sam despaired. “That deep romantic chasm which slanted down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place!”

    “‘Savage’? If anything, we’ve civilized it.”

    “What of the Abyssinian maid singing of Mount Abora?”

    Khan noticed the opium fog swirling over Sam’s head. “Could I revive within me her symphony and song…!” Acquiescing, he joined in the game.

  31. THE TREASURE HUNT – 110 words
    by Oliver James @TheOllieJames

    “X marks the spot,” Justin said, looking at the map.

    “But we don’t even know where we are,” Leia said,“or where the Monster is for that matter.”

    “The Monster could be anywhere,” Justin said, “he’s probably eating another Treasure Hunter right now.”

    “That old car park looks like the one on the map,” Leia pointed. “Maybe the treasure is in there!”

    “Only one way to find out!” Justin said, as they ran inside.

    “Maybe a clue is somewhere on the wall,” Leia said, looking at all the graffiti. “What’s that bit say?”

    “The Monster is Behind You,” Justin read. “You Lose the Game……………..”

  32. @PattyannMc
    WC: 108

    Little Flower

    Xenogamy, my fertility doctors’ specialty, he shared during my third in vitro fertilization. I’m clueless what that is. Doc was cagey about it when I asked. He shared about the rare Ghost Orchids that he grows, “the perfect hobby!” He said he’s especially interested in creating mutated strains to create something new, but . . .

    My baby girl was coming! Imagine my surprise, when my ObGyn held up my little flower – literally. Her body, covered in green fuzzy skin, stigma for her tongue, eyes of lavender, Ghost Orchids sprouting as hair, and delicate watercolor petal fingers and toes. I love her, but Doc and his splicing weren’t playing games!

  33. Obscure Mirror

    Xanax pills rattled in his palm like dice and down the hatch they went. He sat on his backpack filled with 90’s alternative rock CDs and an old Walkman that he didn’t feel like listening to. Instead, he looked out into the concrete jungle of color and waited for the numbness to kick in.

    He tried reading the graffiti for a while, but opted for the puddles reflecting the murkiness of the world. He wished he could look inwardly at himself; wished he knew who he was. He knew what others thought of him. To the business suit hunters and lab coat activists he was just exotic game.

    108 words

    • September 5, 2015 at 11:20 pm
      Perfectly painted moment in time and disappointment in life.. Probably familiar to so many of us human beings.













    105 words

  35. Mind Games
    Word Count: 96

    X marks the spot where you pierced my mind. Overwhelming thoughts swell, transforming me into something unrecognizable.

    My once clear path is now cluttered with a chaos of images; nothing makes sense. My facilities are no longer my own. I am controlled by an unseen force, a puppet-master, dangling me just over the line of sanity.

    I’ve lost my grip on reality, forever guessing what is tangible.

    I can see, but my eyes play tricks.

    I can hear you, but I know you don’t exist.

    My mind is your playground for your never ending games.

  36. Crush

    “Xenophobically in adoration,


    Fingers cramping, Felix reread his romantic confession, it would have to do. The note hidden within his back pocket as the morning sun strengthened. Rays skidding over puddles and the slickened graffiti of the skate park.

    She would be here soon. The thought made butterflies soar within Felix’s stomach. He grabbed his board, losing his anxiety amidst the grind of rails and the surge of motion.


    The silhouette halted Felix. Her “Murder a Migrant” t-shirt clinging to her body in a way that quickened Felix’s heart.

    She brushed back blonde hair, scarlet lips parting.

    ‘Let’s go slowcoach, don’t want to miss the fun and games.”

  37. @juliejensen14
    108 words

    Seek Don’t Hide

    X is painted above my covered eyes. At 4’ 5”, I am the slowest and count first. “One, two…ten,” I stutter as the numbers echo through the tagged underpass. “Ready or not here I come,” I yell.

    I begin seeking my hidden counterparts with a quiet gate. However, my sneakers squeal across the cement spoiling my anonymity.

    Soon the silence changes to faint screams. My ears prick like a Shepard, as I follow the noise. When I turn the corner, I trip and nearly fall into the sink hole that’s swallowed my gang. Like a choir of mice, they squeak, “Johnny.” Now who’s in charge of the game?

  38. @GeoffHolme
    Word Count: 100


    ” ‘Xu’? Never heard of it.”

    “It’s a Vietnamese monetary unit, one hundredth of a dong.”

    “{snigger} One hundredth of a what?!”

    “A dong.”

    “A dong?!! Ha! You’re joking, right?”

    “No it’s their standard unit of currency. That’s another spray can you owe me. My turn again… Er… Let’s see… I’ve got it! Xylocarp.”

    “Oh, come on! What the hell’s that?”

    “It’s the scientific term for a hard, woody fruit.. Like that coconut we won at the fair last week.”

    “Oh, man, It’s still raining… OK, I give up. Can we change the letter? Or, better still, try a different game?”

  39. The Medusa Game (110 Words)

    “X, X, X, Live Nude Girls”, read the sign, elegantly displayed by the softest rays of moonlight. It revealed the ambiance of this berg, griped by time, graffiti and decay. As I stepped along, meandering past a ruined corpse, and a sideways shopping cart, my bravery dimed to a childish state; one where shadows had motives, and lurked under the bed. Piercing the stillness was the telltale sound of sinister laughter and the slapping of rigid flesh on concrete. I quickly dipped into a shadowy niche in the wall. Holding my breath, heart racing, sword gripped, I spun wildly, cleaving her head from her wrenched neck. I won the game.

  40. The Medusa Game (110 words) *corrected version*

    “X, X, X, Live Nude Girls”, read the sign, elegantly displayed by the softest rays of moonlight. It revealed the ambiance of this berg, griped by time, graffiti and decay. As I stepped along, meandering past a ruined corpse and a sideways shopping cart, my bravery dimed to a childish state; one where shadows had motives and lurked under the bed. Piercing the stillness was the telltale sound of sinister laughter and the slapping of rigid flesh on concrete. I quickly dipped into a shadowy niche in the wall. Holding my breath, heart racing, sword gripped, I spun wildly, cleaving her head from her wreched neck. I won the game.

  41. Perfectly painted moment in time and disappointment in life.. Probably familiar to so many of us human beings.

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