These micro tales are written for the following prompts:

Weekend Writing Prompt #294 – Script

January 9: Story Challenge in 99-words

Saturday Mix: Puzzle This #1

dVerse — Prosery – Everything is Stitched

This is ridiculous I demand that it be altered now

You can demand all you like, but you’re a has been now, you’ll do as you’re told

A has been?  Do you know who I am?

We all know who you are?  You remind us every day.

And what does that mean?

Don’t take that tone with me, you gave up the privilege when you wrote that trashy book

My book wasn’t trashy, it was the truth.

Trashy, truth?  No one cares you’re a has-been now Harry

Hey, I quite like this, really captures his annoying personality.  Great script J.J.

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Welcome one and all to this year’s grand finale, and it’s looking like it’s going to be a close one this year.

Now, let’s introduce our judges.  Big Ears Long Feet is the chief … as always, then we have Little Jeorge, Mixie and of course Loud Mouth Ralph.  We also have a special guess, Hic-cup, who’ll be joining us later to relay her thoughts.

Now as you can see, we’re down to the final few contestants, then the judges will make their decision.

 Barry I can’t wait to see who will be carrot of the year, can you?

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I wasn’t like this once.

I was magnificent, everyone admired me.  My wide spread branches, my vibrant hues, my knotted and gnarled bark … once I was so tall, straight.  I loomed large over everyone.

Then they came.

At first I was unconcerned, but then they started to prod and poke, and annoyed I dropped a branch on them. 

Reckon that might have been a mistake

I think that’s when they made the decision.  They said I was unstable, wood rot!!!

Once I was a towering giant, now I’m a puzzle piece of a towering giant.

Kind of ironic, isn’t it?

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It had taken all my persistence to achieve this outcome, but now I was here I was beginning to have doubts.

It wasn’t the fact that I sat in a room devoid of personality.  It wasn’t the sweetly sour taste which clung to every surface, it wasn’t even the coldness which wrapped its gloved hand around my heart and squeezed tight.  All of this could be borne with a certain satisfaction.

No, it was the way his glassy eye rolled in his head which made me doubt my sanity

“So, you were saying?”  I prompted, painfully aware that none would hear me if I screamed.

“Oh yes, I was stupid you see,” He stated in a singsong voice, “Everything I do is stitched with its color.”  Silence, and she swallowed over the lump which had formed in her throat, “The corpses were so pretty.”

© NopeNotPam