Angelical Power
“Lovely,” Gabriel said, admiring his work.
“It is, but I’m sure I can do better,” Ariel challenged him.
“Oh really?” he sniggered. “What are you going to do?”
“This,” she replied, tracing runic outlines in the white blanket. Instantly, his wings and halo knelt before her might.
Snow angels are great. Enslaved ones are better.
Winter is here, but it doesn’t snow where I live so I never made a snow angel, although I think it’s cute. Thinking about it, the punchline of this one came to me and then all I had to do was find a way to tell a story that led to it. It was actually harder than usual. I guess my imagination is a bit frozen due to the cold.
Happy Dommes
Angie’s game was simple: Dommes to the left, submissives to the right, hiding inside skeletal buildings.
“Just catapult them to take control once more,” she said.
“How original…” Tim chuckled.
Indeed, it wasn’t, except for the part where each hit made the screen explode in hypnotic spirals.
She became happy before the round was over.
Inspired by the game Angry Birds, obviously, even though I was never very fond of it. Downloaded it once a couple of years ago, played a couple of levels and moved on. I would probably play this one on a regular basis (or be played, I don’t know).
The Accusation
“Miss Murphy,” the reporter began. “How do you respond to the accusation that your jewelry emporium runs on magic destined to enslave men to women?”
“I say it’s true, Karen,” Nina Murphy offered her a necklace. “Wear it well.”
She did. Ask her cameraman, the news van driver, the guard by the station’s entrance, the…
Another silly impromptu. I had this glimpse of an “interview piece” and then just sat down and wrote it.
The Puppet
The car… the road… the accident… the walk…
He remembers.
The river… the bridge… the house… the door…
He remembers.
The smile… the music… the dance… the kiss…
He remembers.
The surprise… the weakness… the pleasure… the surrender…
He remembers.
He remembers just in time to forget.
She’ll keep the memory of his strings safe.
A bizarre piece partly inspired by a bizarre piece of music, namely Jean-Michel Jarre’s Je me souviens. That’s French for I remember. There’s something very fragmentary about it because memories can be like that.