Friday Fictioneers: DEVIL OF A LUCK (Revised)
DEVIL OF A LUCK… A Drabble
I have changed my short version. After good advice from my friends, I decided to learn more about the writing process, and try to make my drabble better.
The Devil rode into town one day and the sawmill closed.
Amy’s husband, always monitoring his police scanner, heard that Earl “I-drive-better-when-I’m-drunk” Hollister drove from Herb’s Tavern into a tree and now jail.
Destitute, no job, and no money for gas, Ken walked in a blinding snowstorm fifteen miles to the new super plant to claim Earl’s job.
Out on bail, Earl surveyed the damage to himself and his car, declared both fit to go to work. Hard to see, with the rain and spiderweb of a windshield, but he definitely felt the thud as he sped along the road.
Original short FF version:
The Devil rode into town one day and the sawmill closed.
Amy’s sister’s husband, always monitoring his police scanner, hears that Earl “I drive better when I’m drunk” Hollister has driven from Herb’s Tavern into jail.
Destitute, no money for gas, Ken is braving the blinding snowstorm fifteen miles to the new super plant to claim Earl’s job.
Earl surveys the damage to himself and his car, and declares both fit. Hard to see, with the rain and spiderweb of a windshield, but he definitely felt the thud as he sped along the road.
Devil of a luck for Ken.
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The second I saw the photo Sandra Crook gave Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (or maybe she swiped it, she does that) to use for the Friday Fictioneers prompt, I knew the first line of my story. The only problem, as I got going… it got too long, and ended up 333 words… I didn’t want to change it… perfect for the Trifecta Writing Challenge I thought. So taking a page from my pal Jennifer at elmowrites I decided to edit my Trifecta story to fit the 100 word limit for Friday Fictioneers (that us purists use), and show both versions. Find the Fictioneers’ stories here…
Here is my original Trifecta story…
The Devil rode into town one day and the sawmill closed. All bought up; all the little operations in all the little towns… now left destitute in his wake. And that’s why Ken is braving the Frazer Valley wind, howling down from Alaska and piercing his threadbare coat like the teeth of a wolf doing the howling. An alchemy of chance changed his luck when Amy’s sister’s husband, always monitoring his police scanner, heard that Earl “I drive better when I’m drunk” Hollister had driven his Dodge Charger straight from Herb’s Tavern into rearranging the best seller display inside the Serendipity.
Ken was trudging his way ten miles to the new super plant through rain that was falling sideways and hitting him like a hail of rubber bullets. No money for gas left him on foot, and he was determined to be there when the shift changed, as they would be needing a man to operate the roof truss cutter. Getting any job there required that someone get dead, hurt, or go to jail. Earl had accomplished two out of three, by not buckling up and paying a late night visit to Carol’s bookstore with no intention of reading. Ken intended to have Earl’s job.
Being a former high school football star helped when it came to getting a ‘out of jail free card’. Earl surveyed the damage to himself and his car, and declared both fit to go to work. The Teriyaki Stick and a bottle of ’5-Hour Energy’ from Lucky Market got his juices flowing and he hit the road. It was hard to see, with the rain and spiderweb of a windshield, but he definitely felt the thud as he sped along the road. ‘What’s one more dent,’ he thought, ‘it’s going in the shop anyway’.
Flung into the bushes by the impact, Ken wondered at his supposed good luck. ‘Only one orange car like that around, guess I won’t be getting Earl’s job after all’. The Devil brought hypothermia.
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Constructive Criticism always welcome…
Trifecta Writing Challenge #72: DEVIL OF A LUCK
DEVIL OF A LUCK… A 333 Word Story
The Devil rode into town one day and the sawmill closed. All bought up; all the little operations in all the little towns… now left destitute in his wake. And that’s why Ken is braving the Frazer Valley wind, howling down from Alaska and piercing his threadbare coat like the teeth of a wolf doing the howling. An alchemy of chance changed his luck when Amy’s sister’s husband, always monitoring his police scanner, heard that Earl “I drive better when I’m drunk” Hollister had driven his Dodge Charger straight from Herb’s Tavern into rearranging the best seller display inside the Serendipity.
Ken was trudging his way ten miles to the new super plant through rain that was falling sideways and hitting him like a hail of rubber bullets. No money for gas left him on foot, and he was determined to be there when the shift changed, as they would be needing a man to operate the roof truss cutter. Getting any job there required that someone get dead, hurt, or go to jail. Earl had accomplished two out of three, by not buckling up and paying a late night visit to Carol’s bookstore with no intention of reading. Ken intended to have Earl’s job.
Being a former high school football star helped when it came to getting a ‘out of jail free card’. Earl surveyed the damage to himself and his car, and declared both fit to go to work. The Teriyaki Stick and a bottle of ’5-Hour Energy’ from Lucky Market got his juices flowing and he hit the road. It was hard to see, with the rain and spiderweb of a windshield, but he definitely felt the thud as he sped along the road. ‘What’s one more dent,’ he thought, ‘it’s going in the shop anyway’.
Flung into the bushes by the impact, Ken wondered at his supposed good luck. ‘Only one orange car like that around, guess I won’t be getting Earl’s job after all’. The Devil brought hypothermia.
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JAIME PAINTS A NEW DOG PICTURE... (what else!)
Jaime Ellsworth 'Painter of Dogs' is gearing up for gallery showings across the land... Drop by her studio in Friday Harbor and take a look... or simply CLICK THE PIC to see her work...
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To see more pics... check out this old page... TedBook's DAILY PICS
Fiction Relay – Part 26
The Fiction Relay continues with a new chapter of Suzi’s ongoing saga… will she ever find happiness?
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The throaty rumble of the motorcycle forced Suzi from the dream she had been battling. Wide awake with head pounding excitement, she swung from the bed to an alert stance as danger called her name. The past was a blur, her surroundings unfamiliar. She recalled fleeing her apartment with the man called Sam, but little else. The rich knotty-pine of the cabin should be giving comfort, she thought, but instead seemed to be saying ‘leave quickly’. Gathering her things she slipped out the back and disappeared into the woods, as the front door opened. Suzi had no idea where she was, but surroundings seemed familiar so she knew which way to find the road. ‘It always seemed to come to this’, she thought, ‘running’. But this time I know where I’m going, and what I need to do.’ Her watch told her it was after 2, and probably not much chance of catching a ride till daylight. Recalling the sound of the motorcycle bothered her, as she didn’t know who or what that would mean. She would have to be on careful.
Searching the house was a bust. While the others were busy with that bitch Melissa, Blue thought she could save her mom and finish the job, but now she can’t find her. Suzi was the only one that mattered and The Club would be pissed if she failed to deliver. She could imagine that prig Sanderson in her earpiece now. It had been smart to take her bike from the cave, and Blue decided to head for the highway and see if her sixth-sense could pick up a scent.
Suzi knew she had to head West, the map in her head had clearer focus than ever before. She knew what needed to be done when she got there. It was dark and lonely, but the walking was steeling her resolve as she kept her ears on alert. The fog was good for concealing herself if needed, but made it hard to identify friend or foe. The familiar gurgle of the exhaust put her in the ditch to hide, as the motorcycle slowly passed. Suzi was surprised at the small size of the figure on the bike, tensed in concentration. One thing was sure, she did not want to find out who it was.
The girl on the motorcycle went three miles and stopped, puzzled she had not ‘felt’ her mother. Deciding it was time to deliver the bad newS, she called Sanderson. ”She’s disappeared.” ’What about the others?” ”They don’t know she’s gone yet, but they’ll be looking soon.” ”Beat them to it, you must find her before she reaches New Mexico.”
Confining Melissa in one of the cells, Sam and Ephraim returned to the cabin. “No Suzi and no Blue. Great!” “Well the cars are still here, so she is either afoot or on the back of her daughter’s bike. We’d best go.” “Which way do you think she’d head, Sam?” “West, I’ve got an idea. What about Melissa?” “We just leave her there to join Raj, that’s what I say.”
The headlights were to high for a car, most likely a semi coming, this being a truck route. Thumb out… the hiss of air brakes. “Where you headed, Sister?” “Whatever way you’re going.” “Hop in.”
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The Fiction Relay Started by The Reclining Gentleman, is now up to the 26th chapter of The Story of Suzi. Co-authored by seven writers, it takes many twists and turns, depending on the genre of choice. New voices are always welcome… just say the word and TRG will fit you into the lineup.
To see a summary of the adventure so far… SUZI’S SAGA.
Now it’s KC’s turn…
TO EAT OR NOT TO EAT…
JULIA
San Juan County Fair
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Oops… This was supposed to go to http://tedbooksdailypics.com Have you been there lately?
Trifextra #61: IT’S THE SIZE THAT COUNTS
“Ethel, there isn’t room to swing a cat!”
“I like my Smart Car. It fits me just fine. But, I’m not the one who could stand to lose a few.”
“Well, I never!”
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THE IDIOM
That’s what the Trifectas asked us to use this time. Here, I’ll let them tell it:
“This weekend we’re asking for exactly 33 words including an idiom somewhere within. Examples of idioms include – add fuel to the fire or wear your heart on your sleeve. You can find more examples and a definition of idiom here. Good luck! ”
To see some Idiom Driven Stories… click the trike.
Trifecta Writing Challenge #70: IN A JIFFY
IN A JIFFY… a story in 333 words
Jeff’s sneakers slapped the vinyl floor as he raced for the Jewel’s exit, clerks in hot pursuit.
“I tell you, I was almost killed!” “Ethel, don’t be so damn dramatic. You weren’t ‘almost killed’, what happened?”
They were gaining on him as he pushed through the door and collided with the woman.
“Listen to me, Cheryl. I don’t know why you have to be so negative all the time.” Cheryl sipped her tea, waiting. “I was going into the Jewel, you know how I don’t like the Jewel, but I just needed some cornbread mix. Now don’t you go rolling your eyes like that. You know I like to bake!” Cheryl stopped rolling her eyes and tried to stifle herself. Ethel didn’t bake. In fact, Ethel didn’t cook, she ate out or got take-in. The only thing Ethel ever made was Jiffy Cornbread or Jiffy Popcorn… Ethel liked everything jiffy, the woman had no patience.
Ninety pounds of blond had laid him flat on his back. The beer he’d been trying to steal went flying as angry hands yanked him to his feet. The woman had fire in her eyes, and took over.
“So, there I was, on the ground with beer bottles everywhere. People lifting me up and thanking me for stopping the thief. A crowd had gathered, you know how I don’t like to be the center of attention.” Cheryl held her eyes still.
The manager had called the police. The woman Jeff bumped into was familiar. She was the one always complaining about something. It had been suggested she shop elsewhere. Now he would have to be nice to her, as she started in on him.
“Well, I tell you, the ingratitude of some people. They didn’t even offer me a reward.” The phone rang. Cheryl answered and thanked the caller for letting them know.
Jeff had slipped away during the ensuing ruckus.
“It’s your lucky day, Ethel. They want to give you the Jiffy you left on the counter.”
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The prompt this time is the third definition (as always) of the word LUCKY (adjective). To read more “Lucky” stories of 33 to 333 words, click on the trike.
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Everything you will need to cook like Ethel…
Friday Fictioneers: HORSE SENSE
HORSE SENSE… a 100 word story
There had been a fire at the barn, most likely started by a idiot cigarette. Got the animals out first, then set hither and skither to attack the blaze. Even that old fool of a circus horse got into the act by bringing me a garden hose. I squirted it a bit, then thought stronger measures were called for and filled buckets from the trough. It wasn’t much, just a little scarring in one of the old unused stalls. I’d spent time there with some of the girls. Now that damn horse, she looks at me with one eye raised.
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Our photo, to wring stories out of Friday Fictioneers this week, comes from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields pal, the Aloha Man himself, Doug MacIlroy.
More stories…
Trifextra: #60: WORD HEIST
The Scriptorium had been an easy mark. At the subway, the sack broke, sending words cascading down the stairs to the platform. People helped. A tiny girl brought three over, in cupped hands… Remember, Rain, Rebellion.
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俳句… HAIKU BOMBERS #2… St. Paddy’s Tacos
Quill Shiv has a new Haiku writing prompt... A photo of Saint Patrick.
My result:
You can make your own
corned beef, cabbage and salsa
at the taco bar.
Corned Beef and Cabbage Tacos… In 1986, back in my Restaurant Days, I went to work for Jerry Franco. Jerry was a bit of a culinary impresario on the Sacramento restaurant scene.
