I stare at the phone from its place on the other side of the couch. It sat there ever since I had retrieved the mail a few hours ago. All I wanted to do was find the owner, but when I had opened the screen to find a contact list, it was already loaded on something that I could only describe as a weather screen and I barely touched it when the snow starting fluttering from the sky. In July. In Arizona. I promptly waltzed into the house, threw the phone onto the couch, and sat on the other side to watch it, drinking my way through a six-pack.
The good boy found her, a blonde angel in her blue robes, resting upon a bed of freshly-fallen snow.
It had been a long time since she used her powers. After her birth family left hurriedly for Spain and Jennifer Honey formally adopted the young girl, Matilda’s frustrations and anger dissolved overnight, replaced with a warmth and love in her heart that hadn’t been there before. She either didn’t have the compulsions to act out in her special way or she simply couldn’t if she didn’t have the anger to fuel her. Whatever the reason was, Matilda didn’t mind, nor did she try to exercise her gifts again. That is, until the owl came.
Matilda heard a strange tapping that roused her from a deep sleep. Squinting at her bedside clock, it was nearly midnight. She figured she was imagining things and pulled her Punky Brewster duvet over her head.
The last relief delivery had arrived nearly twenty years ago, almost like an afterthought.
Heavy rains caused a land slide that wiped out a significant portion of Samjiyon-kun. Nearly a week later, the humanitarian trucks lazily crossed their way over from China and brought not even a quarter of what was expected.
The incident occurred at the time the Dear Leader arrived in the beloved city to assess the damage and, enraged at the weak and delayed response, ordered all of the truck drivers shot and forced the remaining distributors to march back and try their luck swimming across the Tumen River. As a consolation prize, Dear Leader kept the fleet of a dozen vehicles and choice selections from each, leaving the infested rice and fortified bread for the grateful citizens who remained in Samjiyon.
The news trended on Facebook within minutes of the stealthy cell phone pictures that were smuggled out by a Saudi attaché were posted on the site. It eclipsed exciting stories of Kanye West, political drama, and whatever Middle Eastern country had yet another bombing. All the rest of the world was fixated on the single, blurry, and quite disturbing photo of what was clearly the Great Fat One, er – Great Successor, Kim Jong Un, in the midst of rubbing what appeared to be an oil lamp not dissimilar of a similarly comic one that was featured in Disney’s Aladdin. Continue reading Reddit Writing Prompt: Kim Jong Un and the Genie
The ravens arrived, en masse and unexpected. Hundreds must have been dispatched from the Citadel to ensure the dark words were received across the realm, and dozens came just for Maester Dorcas. Their quorking was so loud, the inhabitants of the small village peered out of their windows to watch the black-winged messengers cluster around the Maester’s tower. Continue reading Reddit writing prompt: Neckbeards and White Walkers