A Very Short Story – one of tweetups and… zombies mostly

“Invention, my dear friends, is 93% perspiration, 6% electricity, 4% evaporation, and 2% butterscotch ripple.” — Willy Wonka

Today, as our brave twitter-fictioners explored a galaxy far far away at the  Star Wars Celebration 5 #tfe tweetup, those of us left behind stretched our brains (or should that be compressed our brains) to produce 140 character creativity. Our Very Short Story (#vss) competition asked you to write a fictional tweet containing the word ‘tweetup’ – and BOY did you deliver.

Everything from Viagra for birds, to zombie apocalypse graced the hashtag. Poetry, prose, haiku, programming code, even a limerick in perfect meter (hard to do in 136 usable characters!), and there were some marvellously clever and imaginative uses of ‘tweetup’  the required word.   You made us laugh, you made us cry, you… freaked us out a little, (Chicken cannibalism? Srsly?!). And I’m not gonna lie to you, Marge; it was VERY hard to pick a winner.

Our top finalists are as follows:

drkbish “Perhaps we should’ve cancelled the tweetup,” he said, as he emptied his gun at the advancing zombie hordes.

JankHank @thinkgeek cout << “Pop quiz, hotshot. You’re on a boat for a tweetup.” <<endl;
If (boatSpeed <50) {boatKaboom = true} //Wut do? Wut do?

tuckercummings “Did he really just ask if we could schedule a tweetup?” “I didn’t even know there was a word for that in Latin.” “He’s a young pope.”

lindsjer A masked avian flew into a Pet Shop, leveled his gun at the owner, and tweeted. “THIS IS A TWEETUP, gimme the seeds & no 1 gets hurt!”

DanChappa Detective Jenkins had seen a lot in his day. He had never seen anything like the Tweetup of ’09. So much screaming. So many monkeys

Laura_Micek I went to the tweetup today only to find out the cake is a lie! But the pie isn’t. It was cherry.

The_Gun_Moll “Tweetup! The once-a-day pill for those who can’t make their little bird fly!” the announcer chirped. Robin’s heart was all a-flutter.

JDMcIntyre Tweetup”, he said, in between sneezes, “Tan you bet me anodor aspin? I doped it down da zink.” “That was the last one,” she replied.

jzeitler Tragedy was averted when the bomb went off at the Precognitive Society Tweetup. Nobody was there, you see…

TomZer0 And his dieing words hung in the stale air around his now still head, “I’ll see you at the great tweetup in the sky. Bring beer.”

alxf9 500 days from now, a man will jump off a cliff and discover he can fly. Nobody believes him. But at least he made it to the tweetup.

elitistczar wtf is a tweetup? No worries, We’ll solve this using Science!

CaraDeCosta Accidentally stumbled into the Sorcerers Order tweetup. Made a comment about silly robes. Woke up hours later as a sheep! Baaaaaad Day!

hmmay A pirate, a ninja, ten stormtroopers, and Superman walk into a bar. What… a punchline? No, that was the con tweetup!

KarmaAster The world ended in a firey apocalypse following the comic book supervillian tweetup. The survivors were only slightly surprised.

Beanalby His kingdom was spared by the deal forged at the tweetup, but his subjects were turned to wild animals. Would they mind? Could they?

genobeba24 The peace of the tweetup was the only peace left on a blasted planet, bereft of any other hope. We gathered there for a moment’s rest.

wesleysarti ” Tweetup” dearie. Keyboards will be extinct in 3 seconds. Dearie began: “Hey, ya’ll!–” Blip! All keyboards suddenly popped out of exis

TheNerdPatrol Haiku: When Zombies Tweet up – Harmoanious Hunger for – BraaaaaAaaaaaAaaaaaAaains (yes, that’s a 5 syllable version of “brains”

golux13: “I know you left the tweetup for a — a tryst with Juliet,” she sobbed, packing her bag. “You checked in with foursquare at the motel.”

There were so many more that we loved, we wish we could retweet them all. We’re compiling a doc of all entries for your reading pleasure.

Thank you so much to ThinkGeek, that purveyor of all things wondrous – and bacon flavoured envelopes, mmm bacony goodness. #homerdrool – for promoting the competition and for being the source of Epic Prizes Of Awesomeness™

Prizes!

The winner will get a $20 Think Geek gift voucher and a Star Trek plush toy! Runner up The First wins 30th Anniversary Empire Strikes Back playing cards, and some crackhead candy, and Runner up The Second will win a Rock Paper Scissors Lizard Spock mug!

And the winner is…..

• Third prize goes to: KarmaAster

• Second prize goes to: JDMcIntyre

• Overall winner: tuckercummings!

congratulations!

And the winner is….

We have ruminated, we have cogitated, and we have put it to a public vote. And we are now pleased to announce the winner of our second #twitfic Challenge.

Third place went to chilling and atmospheric short The Ack by Scolefiction.

Second place went to the beautifully lyrical Why The Moon Wanders by ZAmmi.

And the winner? Well we’ll let this inventive piece of fiction speak for itself.

Nightmare.

by Metruis:

Five in the start, but now there were three. Three hopeless, tattered, haggard humans caught in the glare of a roseate sunset.

Fogard didn’t know where the other two were. Probably dead. These ones wouldn’t last much longer. He could smell their fear.

He sat under the shadow of a wildly branching tree and let it obscure his stygian face as the three humans stumbled down the hill.

They must have given up hope, he reasoned. That would give the three reason to expose themselves. They wanted to give up and die.

He didn’t expect the call. “Nightmare!” the oldest screamed with a cracked and ever so strained voice. “We seek a trade.”

Fogard frowned and rose… and rose… and rose. Soon his shadow swallowed that of his tree. The three drew back in fear and shock.

“A trade, is it?” His voice was a low whisper but it thundered deep into the earth. “And what would you trade?”

“Sien was taken…” the eldest stammered, running his fingers through his blond hair to avoid making eye contact with the entity.

“And what would you give in return for your friend’s soul?” Fogard snarled. The human found the will to make eye contact again.

“What do you want?” the human replied boldly. Fogard smiled and the sun went down.

Silence fell. Not even the humans’ breathing could be heard. This was Nightmare’s domain:nothing but a hum amidst velvet starlight.

The hum exploded outward with a cry of “What do you want?” Fogard smiled to himself. The human was strong. “Anything you want!”

“I want to live again,” the Nightmare whispered into the human’s ear. “Bring your friend before sunrise and I will restore her.”

“In return,” continued the breath of dreams, “I will prey on your minds eternally. Do we have a deal?” The human exhaled sharply.

“Yes.” Light exploded outwards and the night was as normal: preying shadows, feathery monsters, and taunting nocturnal cries.

They dragged the body under the tree just before dawn, when the dark was deepest. Her body was little more than a shell.

She sat up with night’s deep blue in her eyes when Fogard touched her forehead.They had tears and joy to share, even as he watched.

“Remember,” Fogard warned, “the fear of the night is now yours.I have given you hope, now you will give me back what is mine.”

“What is yours?” Sien asked shakily. But Fogard didn’t answer, vanishing deep into the shadows of the dawn. They were now his.

He gave them back hope,and they would give him fear.For what were dreams made of if not the tiniest bit of both hope and fear.[fin]

You can read all the finalists here, and there is also a permanent page which contains all the #twitfic entries.

Who was your favourite? Tell us in the comments!

Twitfic Challenge #2 – The Shortlist

The shortlisting process was extremely hard. We deliberated for hours. Literally. There was so much to choose from. Some of you used the required phrase in incredibly inventive ways, others wrote stories that were completely absorbing, still others blew the 140 character limitations out the water with the sheer quality of their writing. Short and sweet or taking full advantage of the 20 tweet allowance, all stretched our understanding of what it is possible to achieve creatively on a medium like twitter.

All who entered deserve congratulations. But, there have to be winners, so, now the time comes to present the finalists for you to peruse and, if you feel so inclined, vote!

Yes, vote! Please do, for it is the best and most democratic way to choose an overall winner.

Oh, did I mention prizes?

The winner will receive a bountiful collection of goodies from our own MassTwitFic Vaults Of Awesomeness™ (Did I really just say that? Sorry.)

First off, we have: A genuine one-of-a-kind MassTwitFic T-shirt created especially for this Challenge by one of our own humble minions. The one at the back there, with the exaggerated limp. *points* (Give us a wave love, no? Alright then, moving on…)

In addition to this, two, yes two, vouchers for you, one for the supremely entertaining compendium of all things geek ThinkGeek, and the other for the ever-dependable writers’ haunt of Amazon.

And, (no really, we love you that much) a selection of delicious gourmet lollipops from the geniuses at lollyphile. Including, Wasabi-ginger, Bourbon, Pomegranate-Tangerine, Real Coffee, and the shockingly mind-bending Maple-Bacon.

Vote!

Without further ado, here are the finalists:

Yes, we really are leaving it up to you to choose the overall winner. Democracy all the way! (What do you mean we’re Socialists? Shush you.  Someone drag that minion off for re-education please? Thank you.)

In case you need reminding

Here are the entries, in no particular order:

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The Ack

by Scolefiction:

Everyone was worried about The Ack. The summer months had thawed the fear in the town and the thing in the woods.

So far, since the trees bartered back their greenery for the beast, two one teenage boy & a small girl had been claimed by The Ack.

Men from town had found the undesired anatomy remaining from the two scattered throughout the woods .

A kid in my gym class said his brother saw it last summer, when I was preparing to start high school & falling in love with Tony.

“Something like a boy, but a porcupine. Its eyes were yellow or black either with no pupil or all pupils, I don’t remember.

“It was dark and wet, smelled like mold. Its teeth didn’t fit in its mouth.

“And it drug tree branched along the ground. Though, it could just be that his claws reached the dirt.”

I had my own problems to worry about with summer approaching. The Ack, frightening as it sounded was no match for first love.

Tony and I had been high school sweethearts all that year, but as the weather warmed, I noticed his wandering eye.

Beth was the name of the girl I was worried over. Tony had several classes with her and seemed to bring her name up too frequently.

The invite to Beth’s end of school party came as no surprise to me. Tony looked forward to it with extra anticipation.

The Ack was no match for Beth.

The last day of school came with a particularly sinister heat wave. It lingered in the air as Tony & I drove through the woods.

And the sun went down behind the silhouettes of trees as we reached the party. My classmates, beer-spirited and silly.

I tried to drink my own apathy as Tony quickly abandoned me for lovelier creatures. I smoked with subtle tears on the cabin steps.

The ominous heat and darkness permeating from the woods around us eventually made me seek in innards of the cabin for comfort.

I realized,even in my lubricated state,fear is a stupid emotion. No matter if you fear or not, if something is to happen, it will.

Tony and Beth were in deep embrace when I reached the living room. I noticed the looks from those around who understood

My heart left me then. & my fear. Do I stay here & watch this display, or run home in tears, through the woods, The Ack somewhere?

I chose to leave. The thing in the woods could take me if it wanted that porcupine thing. I left the cabin door open on my way out.

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One Night A Year.

by wildfeather:

“In t bleak midwinter,frosty winds may moan.Earth stood hard as iron,water like a stone..”"Leave it out Roger,miserable enuf as tis”

“I’ll say. Water like a stone? My feet ‘ave frozen into my bloody boots!” “I’m pretty sure my toes are rotten…”

“Mine’d need a brillo pad to get the caked-in mud off” “Quit yer moanin you lot, it’s blinkin Christmas!” “Yes sarge.”"Sorry sarge”

“What’s that?”

“Stille nacht, heilige nacht, alles schläft einsam wacht…” “Ere, Jerry’s singin’!” “I know that one, Silent Night, int it?”

“It puts tears in your eyes boyo..” “Bet you could sing better, Welshy!” “Hey, let’s give em what for!” “Best Sunday voices lads.”

“..round yon virgin mother and child..” “They’re cheerin!” “OI, JERRY,ANYONE GOT ANY KIERSCH?” “Was? Was ist?”"What you doin Ed?!?”

“GIVE US A FAG WOULD YA?”"Shhh!That’s the bleedin enemy you idio–”"I can have fußball engländer?Wir has bier!”"Now u’ve done it”

“INCOMING!!!” *duck*

“It’s a bottle! It’s…a beer bottle!”"Dont! it’s probably poi–soned, too late”"Ohhh Thats good that is”"Yeah?”"Yeh,hits the spot”

“Give us some!” *clink* “Haben Sie ein fußball Tommy? Eh?” “Sarge?” “Hmmm..” “Oh go on sarge.” “Alright, seein as its Christmas.”

“Hoorah!!!” “Last one over the trench is a.. uh, nevermind.” “They aint gonna shoot us are they?” “Only one way to find out…”

*shrug* “We’ll probably be dead by Boxing Day anyhow” “Orlright Jerry, WE’RE COMIN OUT!” “Guten Tag! Guten Tag! Merry..”"Christmas”

“Christmas!Ja!Ja!” “Blimey Jerry,you look as cold as we are!” “Ich, ich kann nicht verstehen..” “Nevermind, let’s have a kickabout”

“I’m in goal!”"Your pointy helmets make great goal posts gents”"Watch the barbed wire”"Now then,now then,anyone want some whiskey?”

“3 cheers for sarge!” “Hip Hip…” … /Dear Bessie, ta very much for the socks.Just what I need.It’s so cold here,you’ve no idea./

/Today we played rugger with the Germans.Yes,really.Roger fell into a crater head 1st,I laughed til I cried.&The German beer, oof!/

/They’re no different than us really, same trenchfoot,same woes,same photos of families in their breast pockets,same homesickness/

/Met this guy Mael-got a girl looks just like u.&a tot like our Freddie.Only,all chubby.Was like meetin ur double.Made me kinda sad/

/At four we toasted the Christkind, the birds sang and the sun went down. It was *inkblot* We’ll be shootin them again tomorrow./

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Angst Observed

by JimGleeson:

Jasper clicked off the TV, rose from the couch and brushed off potato chip detritus from his sweat shirt. His eyes, dry and craggy.

He couldn’t hear the sound of giggling from the other room. It was late though, even for a Friday night. Still his senses probed.

Silence. He felt a wash of voyeuristic guilt. Still though he felt that other familiar feeling as well. The tendrils of yearning.

He went to the second door on the left and wheeled into his room, the door was cracked open, thin lcd illumination leaked through.

His bare foot hit the left corner wheel of the bedframe, his toe shocked by cold steel. He grimaced/cried out. Time staggered.

Losing balance, he stumbled onto the bed, all knees and elbows. A form on the bed cried out. A faint smell of lavender.

Jasper’s eyed widened. One word registered “Kim” Sprawled over her, he felt her arms slapping his back/his side/other body parts

Instant replay. His mind reversed to see if he had made a wrong turn somewhere. But the surroundings were familiar/they were his.

“What-” was all he managed to say. She screamed, pushed him aside and rose from the bed. He rolled over watching, grasping..

She made for the door, rubbing her shoulders from where part of him collided with her. “Wait.” he said. She hesitated.

But his mind was like bike pedals that had lost its chain. No traction. His opportunity hermetically sealed in failure.

In his mind, he heard/saw “and the sun went down” fading to credits. The end. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.

Objects in motion tends to stay in motion. <-thought seemed to laugh at him as she was in mid stream of achieving escape velocity.

His mind was a crashing hard drive seeking anything: fragments of song lyrics, movie lines, in store buy one get one free coupons.

“Jas,” she said to stop any forthcoming deliberation. As if she could see these thoughts like a hacker perusing his facebook page.

Then like an application opening a file he was able to speak “You lost?” She turned around. Was he also smiling?

“I can smell this place from a mile away.” She wrinkled her nose, but her feet were planted. Fight or flight was not in play.

What was in play?

He positioned his feet on the floor and stood facing her. Kim. Inside he trembled. Inside was fire. But he would not waver.

Her mouth mirrored his, eyes locking, and they found themselves in tandem. Hearts interlocking like legos in the night.

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The Returning

by ExplodingDragon:

Okay, here it is. My entry for the #twitfic contest!

I kick the door open and step inside. There can be no hesitation. They’re up and facing me before I enter striking range.

One tries to close the distance first, but jumps back hurredly from the light coming through the open door. They look worried.

They know there’s no escape for them, I have them trapped in their lair. They must face my blade or perish in the light outside.

“Who are you?” one hisses. A delaying tactic, but I indulge them. “My name is Bakuretsu Ryuu, I hunt your kind. Shall we begin?”

They charge with unnatural quickness, trying to bite or claw me. But my blade is quicker, and they are soon in pieces on the floor.

I gather up the pieces in a sheet and drag them out to the back garden. Uncovering them they set alight, as is their curse.

Watching them burn I consider my own curse. As a slave not to the sun, but satelites in orbit, that connect to nanites in my brain.

I have to pay off the debt of blowing up my employers former base, even if it did wipe out a horde of zombies.

I do this by hunting, or my head explodes. And I like breathing, thank you very much.

Time passes. Back in the car I hit the beacon to confirm I survived. It beeps and gives me a location.

No thanks, no congratualtions, not even cake, just another target. *sigh*

And the sun went down before I could start the car. I can’t even drive into the sunset.

There’s that feeling there should be crappy poetry again. “I am grace, I am death, blah blah blah”

My name is Baku, I hunt demons and associated undead. Because I’m good at it. Because someone has to. What else is there to say?

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Why The Moon Wanders

by ZAmmi:

The following is my first attempt at a #twitfic for the @MassTwitFic challenge — a sort of Just So story..

Arrayed in splendor,she danced across the endless night;against a backdrop of stars glitterin&gigglin at her passing”Cant catch me!”

Callin her by name,they enticed her on..&she sped after;at a speed that left the world breathless;hopin someday to reach the centre

That shimmerin swirl of light where all the galaxy danced together in brilliant,complex steps.Planet&star,cloud&void.&livin things?

Maybe.

She could hope.

Even as she chased,she was pursued.T clouds raced to meet her,reachin w their curling,billowy tops to touch the fringe of her skirt

Flowers turned their heads to gaze upon her as she passd.Men covered their eyes,dazzled by her beauty.Skies beamed blue&blushed red

All loved her. All? Yes.All. No,not all. As she crossed a deep ocean she saw it turn to answer to a different summons. Astonishment

The way it turned its back on her, rolling away, spurning her with its cold,blue shoulder made her shudder.Its indifference smarted

She called;it did not answer.She blazed anew;it wasnt moved.She sang;yet it continued on its weary way,unaffected by her siren song

“I will go &speak with it if I can,”she said. And the sun went down, to kiss the blue horizon,&exchange winsome words with the deep

It swelled&surged at her coming, revelling in its own might&power.”Why do u turn from me ocean?Do I not shine bright enough for u?”

Its voice returned; all cymballent, like a thousand sailors all shouting at once, and the hiss of the watersnake merged into one.

“Your light cannot reach my depths.”"I’ll shine brighter!”"You would scorch the Earth”"I have failed you then”she sighed. “Perhaps”

Hot tears dripped from her eyes & boiled with volcanic fire as they touched the waves.”Do you not love me?”"Another moves me more.”

“Who?” “The Moon.” it said with a sigh. “It reaches to the very abyss.” She turned her gaze upward. “Moon, is your light brighter?”

“Never!” cried the Moon. “You move the ocean!” “It moves me.The Earth too.” “Then,do you not love me either?” the Sun began to weep

“Sweet darling mine! I chase you across the sky,I linger when I should set,to see u rise.I rise early to see u set the world aglow”

“If I could but catch you, you’d be mine forever. You are my sun, my star.All who love me love you.” Luna bent to caress her hand.

Sol’s eyes sparkled, her sadness forgotten. She spun, her garment fanning out in rays & sped away. “Catch me then, if you can.”

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…For The Last Time.

presenting an original work of twitter fiction, by konewt:

He, Bored and without any Light, Created the Sun.It rose in the Dawn, lingered at Noon, wavered until Dusk, and the Sun went down.

Recharged and Seeing the Good,He Created it All,each Day.The Sun,a Favorite,It reveals All,but It needs rest,and the Sun went down.

It was a perfect Harmony,the rhythm of His making,the ever Forever Cycle,the seesaw of Life,the Sun came up, and the Sun went down.

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Nightmare.

by Metruis:

I’m answering the #Twitfic challenge. Which, btw, was HARD. Got away with no abreviations, though! 20 tweets follow,

Five in the start, but now there were three. Three hopeless, tattered, haggard humans caught in the glare of a roseate sunset.

Fogard didn’t know where the other two were. Probably dead. These ones wouldn’t last much longer. He could smell their fear.

He sat under the shadow of a wildly branching tree and let it obscure his stygian face as the three humans stumbled down the hill.

They must have given up hope, he reasoned. That would give the three reason to expose themselves. They wanted to give up and die.

He didn’t expect the call. “Nightmare!” the oldest screamed with a cracked and ever so strained voice. “We seek a trade.”

Fogard frowned and rose… and rose… and rose. Soon his shadow swallowed that of his tree. The three drew back in fear and shock.

“A trade, is it?” His voice was a low whisper but it thundered deep into the earth. “And what would you trade?”

“Sien was taken…” the eldest stammered, running his fingers through his blond hair to avoid making eye contact with the entity.

“And what would you give in return for your friend’s soul?” Fogard snarled. The human found the will to make eye contact again.

“What do you want?” the human replied boldly. Fogard smiled and the sun went down.

Silence fell. Not even the humans’ breathing could be heard. This was Nightmare’s domain:nothing but a hum amidst velvet starlight.

The hum exploded outward with a cry of “What do you want?” Fogard smiled to himself. The human was strong. “Anything you want!”

“I want to live again,” the Nightmare whispered into the human’s ear. “Bring your friend before sunrise and I will restore her.”

“In return,” continued the breath of dreams, “I will prey on your minds eternally. Do we have a deal?” The human exhaled sharply.

“Yes.” Light exploded outwards and the night was as normal: preying shadows, feathery monsters, and taunting nocturnal cries.

They dragged the body under the tree just before dawn, when the dark was deepest. Her body was little more than a shell.

She sat up with night’s deep blue in her eyes when Fogard touched her forehead.They had tears and joy to share, even as he watched.

“Remember,” Fogard warned, “the fear of the night is now yours.I have given you hope, now you will give me back what is mine.”

“What is yours?” Sien asked shakily. But Fogard didn’t answer, vanishing deep into the shadows of the dawn. They were now his.

He gave them back hope,and they would give him fear.For what were dreams made of if not the tiniest bit of both hope and fear.[fin]

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“And the sun went down” Twitfic Challenge #2!

It was our 1 year anniversary this weekend! So, to celebrate, we have a twitfic challenge for you. Anyone can enter, all you need is a twitter account and an active imagination.

We want you to write us a story!

The theme for the challenge is: “and the sun went down” include that sentence in one of your #twitfic tweets and you will be in the running to win an epic prize*,  It can be in any genre, as long as it is fiction.  The most important thing is that you have fun doing it (not the putting your pants on your head and running down the street yelling “I’m a pink ponytailed colobus monkey!!!” kinda fun, but.. well, ok you can do that if you want, but don’t tell the cops we had ANYTHING to do with it, mmm’kay?) and enjoy an  opportunity to share your writing with the awesome twitter creative community.

Here are the basic rules

The story must be tweeted and all entries must include the #twitfic tag in each tweet.   It can be no more than 20 tweets long. At least one of the 20 tweets MUST contain the phrase “and the sun went down” in order to be in the running for the prize.  Each tweet must be self-contained; so no carrying on a sentence into the next tweet. Abbrvs r welcum so long as da meanin’s still clr & dey r rdble.

All the #twitfic entries will be showcased on this website, & there will be epic prizeness**  for  an overall winner.*

Entry closes at 11:59pm GMT Monday, 1st February. (tonight).

Have fun!!

*details of prize to follow,

**epicness may be subject to debate, but rest assured, it ain’t gonna be a bag o’ @BrentSpiner‘s toenail clippings. …. though.. that WOULD actually be quite epic.  Hmmm…

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Edited to add:

*Can we use twitpic? Yes, but bear in mind this will use up valuable space in your tweets.

*What about other links? – any multimedia; sound files, music, video and pictures are welcome, with the exception of tweet-more sites that offer extended tweets of more than 140 characters. And so long as the supporting media doesn’t eclipse the story. The entire story must be written as tweets and able to stand alone with or without the extra media. (In other words, you can’t use this as a means of extending the 20 tweet limit).

*Can I enter more than once? – Yes, if you want to enter more than one story, just post a “The End #twitfic” tweet at the end of one story and before starting another (this tweet will be treated as a page-break and won’t be counted in your tweet limit).

(further questions will be answered as they arise).

We’ve had some awesome entries already! Check out the #twitfic tag to have a gander. And we’re currently compiling them into their own special page, FOR EVER AND ETERNITY.. *ahem* scuse me, on our site for your perusal.

The rise of an ancient terror

Strange happenings took place last night on twitter. The usually placid twittersphere characterised by tweets about Miley Cyrus’ underwear and the Jonas Brother’s latest smash flop, was punctuated by tweets of horror and fear. Was it just because it was Halloween? Or was there more to this strange occurrence?

It appears the entire thing was orchestrated by a shady character known as @cthalloween with the help of his minions @JayBushman, @segphault @JoshLewis and @KrisKowal. Authorities are investigating their involvement as we speak.

So what exactly happened?

MassTwitFic has endeavoured to piece together the threads from various different newspaper reports and personal accounts. We cannot tell you much, but what we can say is; the horror has past….

But, could there be more to come?

“If I were a C’thulu, I would trick a bunch of nerds into tweeting my summoning chants. What have we done? #cthalloween” — @YuriLowenthal

At present, this is what we know. It began with undefinable paranoia and a sense of disquiet that would not go away.  Many had strange, disturbing, repeating dreams, seeing images and symbols that to their dismay appeared in their waking world as well:

“I’m pressing hard on my eyes, trying to get my dreams to sharpen and cut through my sight. What did I see? #cthalloween” — @wordwill

“I can’t stop looking at it. It appears like the back leg of something gnarled…an echo of one of my visions…

http://twitpic.com/npl64 – Graffiti on my door. #cthalloween” — @JimGleeson

The bizarre hallucinations turned real as the evenings events progressed:

“The Horror Rises. What do you see? What do you do?

Sights of indescribable horror! … #cthalloween” — @cthalloween

But not all was tragedy. Some, in the midst of the terror, found love; of a sort.

“He didn’t stay long. Had a drink with me, checked my wound, gave me his digits & left. I think I’ll call “N. L. Hotep” soon. #cthalloween” — @noir_nucifera

Many were left injured and traumatised by what happened, and took shelter in hospitals. Others, in the age old refuge of drink:

“Back to the tavern for a drink. It’s going to take a lot of whiskey to make sense of tonight. Maybe I’ll write a book about it. #cthalloween” — @tiedforlast

In the aftermath of the day’s events most were left with confusion and uncertainty:

“The Pink is empty. Sirens are still sounding. I need to know what happened. I need to know. #cthalloween” — @officergleason

Some, are still searching for answers:

“Back at university I search for a friend in the medical department, Dr. Lehman. Surely he has some rational answer. #cthalloween” — @creativeinfopro

We have heard talk of ‘Old Ones’ strange alien beings that wreaked havoc across the earth. They have gone it seems, destroyed by man’s ingenuity and determination to survive. It isn’t clear what the future holds. But all involved have been changed by their encounters:

“He’ll be back. Yesterday I was an atheist; I wish I still were. #cthalloween” — :@lifeisnphard

=============================================================================

The C’thulu are gone. Humanity rejoices? Mostly. But some, hoped for a different ending.

“What… What… What has happened? No… No! NO! Not after all this! Not after all this! I have failed you my master!

It’s my fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. Then again, there’s always NEXT Halloween… #cthalloween” — @LiesDreaming

Postscript

If you are curious to read more, a record has been put together by @segphault and an archive will be available online to peruse in the near future. Until then, you can read all the tweets on twitter search for the next week. a Post Mortem account can be read here; and the hub of the vile perpetrators of this aberration can be found here.

Were you a participant? Did you enjoy taking part? You may be interested to know that @MassTwitFic runs similar twitter fiction events throughout the year under the hashtag #tfe. Watch this space.

Catch up on The Heist

11 September, 2009
TFE: The Heist – Day 6

RT @ZAmmi #tfe I see towers falling,firetrucks doused in fine white powder.The vision jerks me fully into the present.
RT @ZAmmi #tfe It’s 9/11.Already?Time has flown. How fitting it is.We leave devastation behind,we’re steering head1st into more.

And so begins Day6! Since Twitter’s recent search lag gets worse as day goes on, we’re aiming to finish key #tfe by 12pm EDT 5pm BST

Note, you can still tweet in character anytime, but smooth running search allows optimum interaction with others & @MassTwitFic. #tfe

Reminder: all non-vital Out-of-Character asides are tweeted on #twitfic tag not #tfe. Vital OOC tweets stay on tfe.

Idea: When it gets quiet, take the floor for monologue/narrative to tell a deeper side of your #tfe story! ie @JimGleeson @ZAmmi @Dorfird

Deadline’s Sunday 8pm BST to rescue Kit & escape with tablets, but the #tfe is moving fast! You just may succeed early with time to party!

To catch up on action, read our Twitter stream: http://twitter.com/masstwitfic & FULL #tfe transcript @ http://twapperkeeper.com/tfe/

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Who/where they are

Around the world:

@KitWiley | Location unknown, kidnapped and IN DANGER! Prisoner of Ruthless Riddimer. Presumed to be in Spain or Majorca.

@FabulousPanda @Ilovenimbus | Location unknown, presumed safe and sound.
@mousewords @CassieBarrister | California, USA – helping from the sidelines.
@EdmundDunkard | Location–dimension, even–unknown.

Brizbane | Rival of Riddimer. Wants to steal three Mayan stone artifacts from him. Location unknown, but his mercenaries are pursuing @ZAmmi & Co. and have infiltrated Riddimer’s Dragon Cave base.

@LetaJArdhmen | Exact location unknown, shows signs of being near @KitWiley. Claims to be Riddimer’s associate. Not currently trusted.

Spain
Riddimer | Aka Ruthless Riddimer. May be in his villa in Molina de Aragón, or in his villa in Majorca. The guy likes him some villas.

Ferry from Spanish mainland enroute to Majorca:
@ZAmmi | Condition serious. Endured 56 hours without necessary medication, almost died.
@Jwyl | Healing from gunshot wound to the leg.
@Canageek | Healing from a glancing gunshot wound and 2nd-degree burns all over his body.
@Dorfird | Stabilized after enduring hours without necessary medication.
@RustyNorman @Wildfeather @RobDavies | Healthy thus far but pretty freaking frazzled by what’s happened to their friends.
@ZorkFox | Special Forces dude, supposed friend of @ZAmmi, revealed as MI5 agent intent on recruiting @Wildfeather to spy on her compatriots. Hot looking, but not currently trusted.

Majorca
@JimGleeson | Helicopter, en route to a safe location with prisoners Sellcott (aka The Buyer) and his guards.
@JeffBarrister | Helipad outside Riddimer’s Cuevas del Drach villa, directly above the Dragon Caves base.
ExplodingDragon | Last confirmed location: Dragon Caves Helipad
Notes: All uninjured, armed and dressed like Riddimer guards.

————————————————
What happened?

With help from @RustyNorman & all, @ZAmmi unlocks the case that holds the three tablets:
Tablet: http://twitpic.com/gr0e4
ZAmmi #tfe the carvings are worn almost completely away in places, by the action of a thousand hands touching them reverentially during their life
ZAmmi #tfe EDs description of the pulpfiction glowin briefcase is valid.I remember an interview with Samuel L Jackson,he was asked what was inside
ZAmmi #tfe He replied “We were told to imagine the contents were the answer our wildest dreams.” This is mine. This is my wildest dream come true….
ZAmmi #tfe *reaches out*
LetaJArdhmen @ZAmmi don’t. touch them. #tfe
wildfeather #tfe *hits the skylight as all the phones in the bus go at once. answers hers,* Who dat?…
MassTwitFic There’s a faint murmur like thunder, then every electrical system in the bus explodes, showering the passengers with sparks #tfe…
wildfeather: leta sent some kinda EMP bomb, that shorted out the bus. then zam sorta went sick. (No pills for 56 hours) #tfe
@RustyNorman and @Jwyl perform CPR to save Zammi.

JimGleeson, ExplodingDragon, & JeffBarrister search for Kit:
JimGleeson #tfe Kit could either be on the helicopter. In an unexplored room here in this setting for a James Bond novel, or on the ferry.
Missing Kit this time around – It’s almost as if she doesn’t want to be found.

JeffBarrister:
Tablets are Mayan artwork. Conquistador wrote a map on back, in old Spanish. Some think to El Dorado
Map makes it valuable to buyers. Kit can translate old Spanish (& Mayan for that matter) but so can a lot of people.
When I saw that cam footage, a terrorist arms dealer, made me think the tablets are a blind. Another buyer wants Kit.
Her dad worked on top-secret tech for gov. contracts. Was killed for it. She knows his work.
Riddimer’s buyer could hijack control of a plane with a device the size of an allergen. If we could turn him in…
Bizbane’s men are trying to get the tablet. I bet they’re going for Kit too
Brizbane’s like everyone else, probably thinks he needs Kit to translate the stones. Unless he deals in arms, too. #tfe

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This Twitter Fiction Event is deeply stunning and intricate! All participants are amazing!!

Vote for your favorite ‘Unexpected Surprise’ twitfic

The Challenge is closed.

Thank you to all who took part, we’ve had some great entries, and we’re having terrible trouble picking out just one.  So we’re going to do this the diplomatic way (read ‘lazy-ass who qualified us to be literary judges anway?’ way) So….

It’s voting time folks!!

Want to refresh your memory? Here’s where you can find the entries:

[update: you can now see all the entries in one place!]

* Universal Truth, Ocean Dream and Life Hack

* Last Man Standing, Death Fabricarnate and J’wyl

* The Burning Deck and Ian Starward

Feel free to tell us why you voted how you did in the comments.

The more people vote, the more diplomatic this will be, so enlist your friends, your families, your dog, the guys at the gas station, the aliens who landed on your  lawn, the smelly neighbour who sits on his lawnchair all day throwing cheezy-puffs at the passers-by*, everybody! And to make it easy for you here’s a nice short link you can tweet: http://wp.me/pv8SE-U Share and enjoy!

Oh, wait…. Did I mention prizes?  Yes! There will be prizes galore to the Chosen One, the Happy Victor, the Triumphant Scribe, the ….

You: “Enough of that.”

MassTwitFic: Sorry.

We have some scrumptiliescent prizes for the winner.  Some [[:epic voice:]] Brain Energizing THINK  GUM!!** A book of Mind Hacks to swell your IQ even further and help in your personal quest for World Domination*** and The Book of  Twitter Wit: Brilliance in 140 Characters or Less – to help you hone your already excellent twriting skills.**** …Did I just twitterize a noun? [:::shudder::] excuse me, I think I need to go have a shower.

Happy voting!

* well, maybe not him….

**Because we think you’re still not hyper enough.

***Not actually guaranteed to enable you to take over the world, (or even help…  at all..) but hey, you’re welcome to try! Justdontblameitonusmmmmkay?

**** and if you’re not sick of twitter competitions yet, there’s a Twitter Wit competition to coinside with the launch of the book! Yay!

An Unexpected Surprise! Marvellous Weekend Twitfic Madness part 3

Here’s the third and final set of twitfics from our Sunday Challenge. We hope you enjoy reading them as much as we have!

The first collection of short stories, and the second set are also available for your perusing pleasure. And if you want a reminder of the rules, go here.

The Burning Deck

Presenting, an original #twitfic by Wildfeather:

“Mummy!”  ”Get that kid outa ‘ere!”  ”Mummy!!”  ”Man the braces!”  ”Muuum–*sob*-uhh-*sob*–mmeee!!”  ”Douse the fire there, quickly man”

Fire everywhere, the loud rapport of cannon.  Salt spray..  ”Ach this is nay place for a kid, poor wee thing, whayre’s ‘is mather?”

“Dammit I’ll scupper her before I’ll let him get my ship! We’ll come round for another broadside, what say you?”  A lusty cheer: “AYE!”

“Bosun, are all the passengers below?”  ”Aye sir, thems as can still walk.  Save that wee lad, now where’s he got to?”  BOOM!!!!

A deafening crack follows the explosion, a shudder runs the length of the ship, and slowly like a ponderous tree, the mainmast falls.

Now everything is a tangle of canvas & rope.  Sailors hack away at the sheets, hoping to rescue the ship which is listing heavily.

But Confusion, as if unsatisfied with the chaos yet wrought, chooses this moment to pepper the deck in a volley of gunshots.

Screams and groans echo through the smoke as sailors and passengers alike fall foul of the deluged.  Where is the boy?  Forgotten?

He stands amid the wreckage, unharmed, but shaken out of tears.  A sense of forboding descends on his small shoulders.  The volley stops.

The shadows ahead are moving; ghostly shapes in the swirling smoke & flame.  Laughter, and oaths echo across the water.  Here they come.

The hiss of steel on bone.  ”Here’s a pretty thing!  Gold too.  And it’s ticking.” “Finders keepers!” the laughter surges again.

The boy peers into the gloom.  Something is emerging from the smoke, yet still he remains, rooted to the spot, mouth agape, shivering.

They meet face to face, one all grogam cloth & swagger, a lighted taper hooked over each ear; the other, frozen, eyes wide in horror.

“The boy stood on the burning deck…”  The pirate Captain murmers to himself, amused, fiddling with the end of his moustache.

“Fer pity’s sake boy, run!  Hide yersel’!”  It’s the Bosun, injured, lying against the bulkhead.  Something snaps inside the boy, he flees.

Into the dark, into the groaning oaken cavern, into the bowels he runs helter-skelter, blind with panic.  Got to hide!  Got to hide!

Evening.  The Pirates rouse themselves with song and toast to their hoard.  ”What’s in that chest there?”  ”It’s heavy!”  ”Full of gold!”

“Open it then ye lubbers, what’re ye waitin for?”  Captain orders.  Out springs the boy, all fists & thundering heart, ready to fight.

“Now there’s a surprise!” Captain leans forward stroking his beard.  The boys shrill voice breaks the silence  ”Drink up me hearties, yoho! ..er..”

Captain throws his head back and laughs.  ”He’s a natural!  Welcome aboard, ships boy!”  He ruffles the astonished lad’s hair and passes the grog.

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Ian Starward

mousewords: FICTION TIME! The following 20 tweets are my entry for @MassTwitFic‘s “Unexpected Surprise” #twitfic challenge!

Ian slammed the door and leaned on it, exhaling & drawing a sleeve over his face.  His housing cell’s darkness was a relief.

Guard pod search beams painted Colony City alleys in a red blaze.  They weren’t looking for him; but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

News lines said they hunted a killer—armed, desperate.  Desperation wasn’t new to Colonists.  But only MasterNet troops had weapons.

He threw his bag in the corner, then jumped at the sound of a yelp.  A dog?  In the city?  He called for lights and froze in shock.

A strange woman knelt in the corner, clothes dirty and torn, star-blue eyes wild & haunted.  Ian relaxed.  Only a stray.

“You’re safe.  They’re looking for a killer.”  Her head shook.  ”Warnings” she whispered, raising a forearm striped with red tattoos.

Ian whistled.  ”More than me.  You can stay here till they go.”  He turned.  Her hoarse voice stopped him: “You’re Ian Starward.”

“No.  Just Ian.”  ”You ARE Starward.  You must take me offworld.”  He laughed: “You think I want a last warning?  Stars are dead to us.”

“We’ll be dead if you don’t.”  She raised her other arm, bleeding from a silvery gash.  His throat clenched.  A fresh tracker wound!

By now he was tagged with track motes, marked for death as a sympathizer.  Pods would come in minutes.  He cursed and grabbed his bag.

Death wasn’t so bad, but sympathizers didn’t get it quickly.  ”Offworld it is.”  He tore off a vent grate and dropped into musty dark.

A soft weight hit his arm as the stray followed and fell.  He lifted her.  ”What’d you do to get tracked, escape the farm?”  No answer.

The run to the old towers wiped him out; but the sight of his cruiser was worth it.  Hidden for years, covered with moss, sleeping.

Inside, Ian awoke the controls, thrilling to the old routine, aware it was likely his last flight.  The stray watched, silent.

Thrusters ignited, and the launch force pressed them back.  Joy almost choked him as stars filled his view.  He’d been away too long.

It wouldn’t last.  ”They’ll shoot us down, but a fireball’s better than torture.  Humor me.  What’d you do that we’re dying for?”

Her pale eyes glazed over.  ”I’m a murderer.”  Light flashed as she pulled a smooth shard from her pocket and jerked toward him.

With one swipe Ian disarmed her; but it wasn’t a knife.  She whispered:  ”That chip holds MasterNet’s entire AI.  The Master’s dead.”

Alarms blared as ships followed.  Ian stared at the thin crystal in his hand.  ”With this gone, our people will be free.”  She nodded.

“Now that’s worth living for.” With new purpose he drove his ship starward, and gave the enemy a chase they’d never forget.

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Want to vote for your favorite? Well now you can!

An Unexpected Surprise! Marvellous Weekend Twitfic Madness part 2

Entries are still pouring in for our #twitfic challenge. We’ve been amazed at the wide variety of subjects and the sheer inventiveness of the writers. As with any new frontier, Twitter is full of talented creative people.. A new horizon draws them like bees to honey.

Here’s the next three entrants in order of the time their stories were received. You’ve still got time to enter yours!

Last Man Standing

Mothman: the following 20 #twitfic tweets is a short story I wrote.

The silence sings. The silence breathes.

The world outside is frozen. A pristine testament to the sins of the past.

They say it took six day to bring about creation. It took us only one to end it.

Damn.

I cough, and my hand brushes against the stubble encrusted side of my face.

I should shave. Not that it matters. It’s not like there’s anyone left to judge.

My heart sinks as that notion settles in like an anchor dropped in an already turbulent sea.

It’s true. There is no one left to judge… except for me.

Again I cough. No blood. That’s good. All things considered.

I huddle closer to the fireplace. The flames within offer little comfort.

Still, comfort is hard to come by these days.

Once upon a time this cabin was my escape from the world. My refuge from the noise.

Now I pray for a sound. One human voice in the world besides my own.

Is that too much? Why must we silence each other so that only our own voices can be heard?

Whatever the reason, it won’t matter much longer.

The cough returns, and with it the crimson red that I’ve now seen from so many others.

How could we treat each other as we did and still find it surprising when the bombs fell?

I suppose on some level I knew this day would come, but what was I to do?

I was just a voice in the crowd. Now I’m the last voice of man.

Is anybody listening?

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Death Fabricarnate

JimGleeson: my #twitfic entry for the short story competition.

Rarely, am I expected. But chances are, you should depend upon my arrival.

I am that dark place you fear that you cannot fathom through weary eyes.

I am that uncertainty you feel when you wade into murky waters.

I am the reason why you turn on the light in the bathroom.

I am why you lock your doors and check the rear-view after the sun goes down.

Turn on the news, and you can be sure, I am mentioned.

I rain on both the just and the unjust.

I am death incarnate. I am the reaper.

“And I am Mary Poppins” the voice says staring down at me. A nurse in scrubs, “Time for your medication, death incarnate.”

“I-”

A small gnat lands on my arm and I flinch. It crawls over me.

Her lower lip curls as she slaps. it The red marked-sting, broken wings and body, dead on my forearm.

“Death incarnate, my ass.” she says offering me a smile, “Keep on thinking that, the only thing you kill is skin cells.”

I feel the pills in my mouth, promising me some time of reprieve, or the cloudy numbness of release.

A sliver of comfort, of detachment, for which I can escape the truth.

What truth? I begin to wonder after washing the medication down.

The truth…that I am.

I am that dark unexpected end to rationalization.

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J’wyl

Presenting a short #twitfic by Jwyl:

Ariana started. “What wast THAT!?” Her horse just blew air, it wasn’t always necessary to answer her. The path ahead was clear.

Ariana listened and squinting, she searched the rocks and weeds to the left, where she thought the sound had originated. Nothing.

Deciding it was her imagination, Ariana nudged Realto with her heels to get him moving again. “Pfttttt-POW!” Realto balked slightly.

“So you heard it that time, too?” asked Ariana with just a hint of I-told-you-so in her voice. “Indeed” replied her horse.

They both looked to the left of the path where a small tuft of weeds between two rocks was now burning. Realto twitched his ears.

“Pfttt-POW-POW-POW!” Eyes wide and stepping back, Realto shook his mane. Ariana reined him in and away from that side of the path.

Several more small fires were now in evidence. Ariana dismounted Realto she pulled her gloves more snugly on her hands.

She carefully stepped around some burning weeds and climbed around a boulder. A dead dragon lay there. “Huh” was all she said.

She stood staring for a few moments. After all, it isn’t every day you see a dragon, especially a dead one. It was beautiful.

Moving closer, she could see the arrow protruding from it’s right eye. Why hadn’t it’s body been plundered of scales? “Pftt-POW!”

Ariana felt heat as a flash of fire glanced off her leather breeches. She carefully moved toward the dragon’s left wing.

“Poor thing, how far did you fly before you died?” she murmured. Ariana reached out & gently stroked the shiny green scaled wing.

“Pftttt?” Blinking, she watched as a small damp bundle of scales creeped out from under the wing. Two golden orbs peered up at her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed softly, staring into the golden eyes of the newly hatched dragonette. Transfixed she held out her gloved hand.

Golden eyes wide and staring deep into the green of Ariana’s eyes, the baby dragon climbed clumsily into her outstretched palm.

Ariana very softly stroked the fine tufts of firey red mane down the dragonette’s back. Thinking how precious and lovely it was.

Slowly she realized she was hearing another sound, soft and sweet “Pfttmmmrrrrrrr” Did dragons purr? How extraordinary & wonderful!

Holding the little dragon carefully in her hand, Ariana pulled out a leather pouch with the other hand. She searched the area.

Finding a few scatted scaled, she retrieved the smallest of them and put them in the pouch, then settled the baby dragon atop them.

Walking back to the path she called ahead, “Realto, boy do I have a surprise for you!”

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Keep those entries coming in!

An Unexpected Surprise! Marvellous Weekend Twitfic Madness part 1

There have been a host of amazing entries for our Weekend short-fiction challenge.  We will post them in the order they arrived and then, give you a chance to vote on them!

Because of the sheer number of entries, we’ll be posting them in several parts. Here is the first three:

Universal Truth

ExplodingDragon: Presenting a #twitfic entry: A @RickyRedShirt short!

Just hit planet side to help Captain with first contact of new species. What fun /sarcasm.

Fun fact! 4 out of 5 red shirts do not survive first contact missions. I hate starfleet.

Ten minutes in, everybody’s still alive, a rare occurance. No wait, the aliens are mad at the captain for no reason.

Two seconds later 3 of the 5 of us are dead, along with the captain. Okay! Gotta run!

Aaand they’ve bombed the shuttle. Calling ship for beam up I get put on hold. If this weren’t typical I’d vaporise myself.

I find a hiding place in a universal truth, storage cupboards. Looks like I’ve got cleaning fluids and brushes for company.

The aliens knock on the door and tell me to come out. I bluff that I have hostages, they call it. Gotta think fast!

Throwing cleaning fluids worked well, they all bent over shouting ‘My light based senses!’. Now to find another hiding place.

Still running in this government centre, I find why the aliens don’t like us. They don’t believe in aliens! What a gyp.

A big painting showing the stars as a wall just beyond the sky, they don’t know there’s a whole universe. Ignorant savages.

If they don’t know about the universe why did we even come here? I bet captain was just bored.

Oh no, the savages have caught up with me. Looks like the end of my adventures, where I barely avoid getting killed.

Just as they fire I get beamed up. If I believed in God I’d thank it, as I don’t I’m gonna shower. Another day in the life.

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Ocean Dream

ZAmmi: My #twitfic entry- a homage to Helen Dunmore.

Weatherbeaten, gnarled hands rested on the handle of the shovel as she straightened her back and listened to the surf.

It roared in the cove sending up spray so high she could see it from the cottage garden. It took her back, oh my it took her back..

The water, so rich & alive engulfed her head. She struggled against it churning bubbles. The fear, the panic; fingers outstretched.

It all came back, that moment beneath the water.  She’d seen her life slip past her flailing arms. But then… a hand grasped hers!

Firm, strong; she’d gripped it desperately, absorbing the life personified in that solid touch amidst a world of bubbles. Needing it.

Deep eyes, deep as the ocean looked into hers. “Breathe!” he said. “Open your mouth and breathe!” Her mind revolted. He’s mad!

I’ll drown! She thought, frantic. I’m dreaming! “Trust me.” – how could he speak underwater? She looked down at his legs, and gasped.

She chuckled now at the memory – that 1st struggling breath..how his lithe body turned summersaults in the water, sleek as a dolphin.

The wonders she’d seen! Her eyes grew misty. He had warned her: warned that someday her heart would lead her back to her own people.

She had not believed him. “I’ll stay forever!” she had cried, so young, so full of hope… so long ago. But he had been right.

Now her feet were so well rooted to the soil, she barely recalled how to swim. Most days the only things she spoke to were her bees.

She raised her bowed head & listened to their hum, imagining it was him she could hear singing. The sound echoed in the cove below.

Wistful instinct made her turn towards the beach once more; feet treading the well-worn path without having to be reminded the way.

The humming increased, no bees this close to the shore – then became a song. She broke into a run, surprising herself with her speed.

There he was! Powerful, muscular, sat with his back to her at the edge of the bay; looking like a diver, his wetsuit peeled to his waist.

But no. She halted. It was a young man. He would have been old, so old by now. The figure heard her, he stopped singing and turned.

She let out a stifled gasp. His face! Was it him? Did they not age? Those same eyes. She gazed at his dark, smooth tail “Who are you?”

“I’m looking for Shingle Croft” the voice was different. He did not know her. She tried to hide her disappointment “It’s up there.”

He looked up at the cliff “I seek the Koweth of The Mer.” “That’s me.” her old name! Was it news he brought? Was her beloved dead?

“Mamm kerenza!” -dear mother! Her mouth dropped in an oh of surprise. “My son!” He buried his head in her chest “I’ve come home.”

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Life Hack

Presenting patrickgates‘ #twitfic entry.

It was noon & aspiring programmer Frank Dunstan was staring at a monitor, becoming increasingly stressed out.

“Error #398: Cannot import file life.c” was flashing all over his computer screen, it made him feel even more depressed then before.

It felt like his life was like a piece of trash, discarded, and unneeded.

He was alone, without a friend, hadn’t had a date in 5 years, and felt like he had no life whatsoever.

His only human contact was with his players on world of warcraft, Which he had become a revered player from playing 24/7.

He spent his time coming up with contraptions that would help make his life simpler, an automatic toaster, set to a clock, etc.

Suddenly a knock came at his door, this was an exciting prospect for him as he ran to get dressed & struggled getting decent in time.

Shaving his face & screaming “ONE SECOND” seemed easier said than done, he charged to the door to find a guy in a nice suit waiting.

His name was Jonathan Brosnan (no relation to James Bond) He was an entrepreneur who had heard through the loop about his inventions.

This was the change he was waiting for, sitting at his door, like a 5 million dollar bill beckoning him on to fame and fortune.

He was interested in the levitation mechanism he stumbled upon while creating the waffle flipper.

*1 YEAR LATER* Frank Dunstan had become a household name: inventor of the first ever levitation plane allowing new speeds in travel.

He was about to go on the first date in what seemed to be forever, she was a beautiful Argentinian supermodel.

When suddenly, it was all gone, it all drifted away & suddenly the world he had grown to love was no longer, he was the same old guy.

He was back at his desk, with Error #398, but then, to his surprise…he heard a knock.

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Hope you enjoyed them! Stay tuned for the next lot.