giraffe

Doug. No offense, but that seemed to capsulize the shallow part of relationships. The cars, the shoes, the deodorant. I think that was your intention - not sure.

Doug

giraffe: Twas supposed to be a humorous tale of purchasing a vehicle. Guess the humor got lost in the shuffle. Sorry. I bought that 2011 Sorento on Tuesday and it was parked out in front of the house as a surprise for the wife. Buying a car is crazy nowadays. Now you can research everything from A to Z on the internet before going out to a dealer and finding the one that really impresses you. Between going to the eye doctor and getting my first prescription for bi-focals to winding up buying an SUV I had a full day and didn't sleep before I went to work. Probably explains the next days scatter-brained humorless diatribe. I love bhughes list and I'll give it another try.

Shanley

Phew, it's been a while! Finally managed to think and write something.
Here it is: 249 words, including the title.

'The Box'
There was a confusing accent in his voice as he was trying to advertise the weird thing. The luminous box spread its light in all directions. No medium seemed to resist it.
- ‘What is that thing?’, somebody asked.
- ‘I do not know. But it’s the most precious thing I’ve ever had.’
- ‘How do you know it’s precious if you can’t even tell what it is?’
This is where his chivalry towards the intruder broke into a mute palette of unspoken readable thoughts: ‘ Is it relevant to you? Does it make you happier or sadder if I tell you what’s it made of or how do I know it?’.
The stranger seemed far away, starring at some distant point.
- ‘The sun is setting’, said the stranger. ‘I must go now.’
- ‘Leaving so soon?’
- ‘Oh, it’s never soon enough. Does it help you if I stay?’
- ‘I’m not sure. I thought you might want to take this box with you. After all, you’re heading to the ‘Nebulous Lands’, aren’t you?’
The stranger smiled:
- ‘Don’t advertise it if it’s precious to you. ‘
As the Sun was setting the desert seemed to disappear. A mere illusion, as if nothing had ever been there.
- ‘What do I do now, Box? ‘
The box kept shining.
- ‘Forgot you don’t speak. ‘
As sun was rising, new convoys of camels passed him buy. ‘Time to sell this’, he thought. One look around…the Box was gone.

giraffe

Doug. I'm glad you are lightening things up for a while. I know the storm's a-comming. The humor wasn't lost on me.

giraffe

Shanley, That one reminds me of Joseph Smith carrying around gold bars in a shoe box that no one was allowed to see. When people demanded to see them. they miraculously disappeared. That made him a saint. Google Joseph Smith.

midnightpoet

Shanley...I'm intrigued...

bhughes

Great stories everyone !!

Giraffe... it is" bhughes," not behuge (funny though)

Shanley

Thank you for sharing your impressions on my story, Giraffe & MidnightPoet. Having only 250 words at my disposal, made the challenge more interesting. Nice to see that symbolism is still intriguing . It's sad to see how authors like Paulo Coelho 'pass by' readers for the simple reason that his books seem too easy. Personally, I admit his style inspired me here. I always find new meanings to his stories. A matter of giving it some thought through one's experience and knowledge, I suppose.

giraffe

Shanley, most of us have authors that we felt were ignored. One of mine is Mary Renault. She was reaching across gender boundaries.

giraffe

I'm out of town all next week. I'll check in when I can.

Shanley

Hm, never heard of her before, but considering the good recommendation, I became curious enough and wrote down the name to my memory.

Doug

200 words including title...

Advertising

Ostentatious advertising pops up out of rows of corn, slapped on by two silly men driving a white truck with luminous lights at their disposal. Queen nebulae’s crown adorns the top of a jar of peanut butter signaling the finest buttery spread available. A wide palette of deep greens and crisp yellows adorn the leathery wallpaper on the John Deer sign. Is it relevant to even show a tractor when everyone knows “who” John Deer is? I’ll take the medium size snickers, but my kids would love the ginormous one festooned on the brick wall at the south end of the promenade. It’s everywhere…on billboards, sides of buildings and even in the sky confusing us with seemingly tiny banners praising the virtues of “This Bud’s for you.” Where is the relevance? Would we be paralyzed if we didn’t have some Madison Avenue type thinking he was quite chivalrous and goading us into buying this brand or this exact thing which we don’t even need…or could we find our own way through the muddle of being a consumer without a steering wheel on our foreheads yanked to and fro? I believe we can. They think they’ve won. It’s your choice…

giraffe

It's short, but all the words are there in order.

FANCY PANTS


What kind of accent does a shyster need to advertise his way of confusing women. His fake attempts at chviilry are only accepted by his luminecient eyes. He wore medium sized jeans, and that showed off his great ass, but his committments were nebulous.


He had a whole palette of false dreams. In one, we were circling the promenade hand in hand. None of them are relevant anymore. He's stood me up for the last time.

morshy

250 words, not including the title. Advertise has become advertising. Hope that's ok.

***

The Sting

She stood on the corner like a cheap whore advertising her wares. As people passed, she would turn and ask: “Are you relevant?” When they failed to answer, looking at the ground and hurrying past, she would grow agitated. Her accent was a confusing blend of upper class learning, lower class breeding. The rain came down harder; the flimsy dress she wore became transparent. He put her medium to long-term prospects as “not very promising”, yet there was something luminous about her eyes. He checked his pocket, relieved to feel the weight of the pouch. It kept his palette safe. He was an artist, and tonight, he would paint.

They’d told her to stand on the promenade, to wear something expensive but inappropriate, a summer dress for an autumn afternoon. She glanced at the darkly nebulous clouds, ominous and oppressive, and worked hard to suppress a shiver. As the rain started to fall, she wondered if chivalry was really dead, or would someone offer her shelter. She was about to call it a night when she saw him out the corner of her eye. She turned to look at him, and asked: “Are you relevant?”

It was a sign! He was an artist, and she WANTED to be painted. He stepped out into the street, heading straight for her. She raised her arms in supplication, welcoming him. He didn’t hear the sirens, didn’t see the flashing lights. And as he pulled his tools from their pouch, didn’t feel the bullet.

Doug

WOW Morshy! That was great. Loved the tag line "Are you relevant". Shot dead in a sting operation? Crazy! Loved your descriptions in the first paragragh. They are a gem.

giraffe: Turn on your grammar/spelling tools on Word, you had a few misspellings there. I got kinda confused though whether it was two guys or a guy/girl thing.

midnightpoet

Doug...I loved that you used ginormous in a story. That is an awesome word.

Giraffe...may I suggest proofreading before you type. Any meaning your little story may have had is ruined by glaring errors. That's not to say it isn't good, it just makes no sense due to lack of proofreading. Unless the typos and terrible grammar were intentional...then, I'll say it isn't good.

Morshy...I always love to read what you write...that was beautifully done, but I don't get the ending at all...sitting here baffled and scratching my head.

Doug

Oh midnight...you showed up just in time...250 words no title

Brenda arrived at the cabin that her sister had rented. In the advertisement it claimed to be rustic, but this was a bit too rustic for her. Sherry didn’t fall for scams easily so Brenda was confused. Here she sat waiting on her sister a few feet from what was left of the front door. Weeds sprouted out of the front porch making it look like a nebulous waterfall draping over the edge. Brenda was eager to meet up with her sister as she did not feel safe alone. Her foot tapped nervously and her mind played a song about maidens dancing around the promenade of a grand castle. This didn’t seem like it was going to be such a luminous adventure, but she held out hope things would turn out ok.

Thank God chivalry isn’t dead, Brenda thought to herself as the door to the cabin eased open with a medium sized squeak. Maybe her sister had already arrived and it was her way of welcoming her. A palette of colors sparkled in the window as the door refracted the light through it. Brenda stepped into the cabin to find it in better shape than the outside. There was a kitchen with a table and two rooms off to the right. A solid polished oak floor massaged her feet as she made her way to the door openings.

Brenda stepped into the closest room. Her sister lay broken and bloody on the bed. As Brenda turned around she screamed…

Doug

midnight: Much better description of giraffe's story that I did. You were right on the mark, but as he said, he is "out of town" and maybe he is struggling just to join us. Keep that whip handy though...oh marius! Where are you...??? I have a little bitty scare for youuuuuuuu.

Doug

see what happens when your russian (on purpose) that -t +N

midnightpoet

very nice, Doug. I knew something scary was coming...your story wove well to that point. I think it would have been more effective, though, if you gave a description beyond 'broken and bloody'.