All Men…
Helios entered his daughter’s bedroom and gasped when he saw the horny pigs at her feet.
“Circe? Are you playing with the food again?”
“No, I’m playing with your acolytes.” The young sorceress replied.
“Return them to human form. Now!”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll…”
He never finished the sentence. All men are animals, even Gods.
Seeing as mythology is one of my favorite subjects, every now and then I go to it in search of inspiration. This piece was written during my lunch break as I started wondering what it would be like for a God to have a teenage daughter that loved to mess things up. Circe, the Sorceress sprang to mind and this piece was born.
Admit it, you’re an animal, too.
Not Cool
“This is not cool!” Alexander squirmed.
“You’re right, it’s hot as hell!” Melanie grinned.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Luckily, I don’t have that problem. If you don’t like it, then get up and walk away…”
“I can’t. Your hypnotic suggestion is too strong.”
“Too bad, sweetie… enjoy!”
The burning wax melted his thoughts away.
Found the pic below online a couple of days ago, thought it looked cool. This little thing came to me today thinking about it.
Gibberish
Josh: Chair eleven says goodbye to tomorrow.
Monica: What’s that, pet?
Josh: Rum would drink any linguist away.
Monica: It seems your mind is filled with gibberish… I wonder why…
Josh: Coconuts intrepid!.
Monica: Don’t worry, the trance will wear off… eventually. Until then…
Josh: A fly is often one floor above Hell.
Monica: Exactly.
Having recently written another installment in their hypnotic conversations, which you can read on my Patreon feed before anyone else if you wish, I found myself thinking if I could have some fun with them in micro-fiction format as well. Josh likes to talk and often doesn’t get what Monica is really saying to him until it’s already too late. For this humorous affair, I decided to get right into it and explore the consequences of jumbled thoughts and jumbled language. I have no idea what he was really trying to say but it hardly matters, right? Don’t be surprised if these two show up again in this challenge in the future.
Selective Editing
“Identify yourself,” Amelia said.
“Daniel, 28, web designer and pet lover. Also, your helpless mindfucked slave for all eternity.” He kneeled to kiss her feet.
“Bravo! That’s exactly it!” She clapped.
Standing by the bedroom door’s threshold, her sister Moira asked:
“What happened to ‘lazy motherfucker’, ‘verbal abuser’, and ‘chronic masturbator’?”
“Selective editing…” Amelia smirked.
This piece was inspired by a pair of scissors. Yep, that’s right. I have to be honest, here. I’m not very good with scissors, my hands aren’t often as steady as I would like them to be. Cutting a piece of paper in a perfectly straight line? It will be right for about 80% of it and then veer off a bit. Don’t expect perfection from me when wielding scissors, okay?
Anyway, scissors aren’t just for cutting, they’re also a metaphor for editing stuff out. You can edit stories, music, and movies… you can also edit thoughts, reactions, and memories. I wrote this one shortly after arriving home today, thinking of that.