BET YOU CAN’T do this writing prompt. Take the 10 random words below and, in the comments, crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story tying all of them together! And remember: after (if) you finish, highlight your words and click the bold button to make them stand out and help you determine if you forgot any words. (If you’ve missed previous writing prompts, we BET YOU CAN’T do those, either.)
- shadow
- trespass
- warmth
- fragrant
- doppelganger
- cupid
- butterfly effect
- luminescent
- velvet
- simpatico
Need an extra creative boost? Our other site, Collective Inkwell, is bringing back a creative writing exercise which we started last year. It’s similar to Creative Copy Challenge, but a bit different. We call it the The Cure for Writer’s Block and the idea is to use complete sentences and sometimes visual prompts to inspire a short paragraph or a short story. We’ll only be doing one a week, though, so as not to overload your creative circuits between CCC and CI.
NOTE: Don’t copy and paste from MS Word. Use a program like notepad that removes formatting or just type in the comment field itself. Also, finish your submission, THEN bold the words. Thanks.
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As the simpatico warmth of their shadows trespass each other like doppelgangers, cupid looks on in luminescent glee as his fragrant velvet arrow of love protrudes from the male member of the embracing couple’s ass cheek, thus producing a butterfly effect on Jaced’s smile.
Hahaha, that’s so romantic!
I have a sticky on my computer screen with one word reading:
ENTERTAIN!
Every time I write, I look at it, then start typing.
I love that thought! I have a book-The Daily Book of Positive Quotations-next to my computer. Today’s quote for Valentine’s Day…”Who, being loved, is poor?” Oscar Wilde
Wow, one sharp, strong sentence. Well done.
Thanks buddy.
Love the “butterfly effect on Jaced’s smile.” Awesome.
Velvet shadows of trees, blurred by the luminescent moonlight, forgive the trespass of the couple walking quietly, hand in hand. They had just left a special midnight showing of The Butterfly Effect and were heading home, passing a nearby fountain of that cute little cherub, Cupid. The air, fragrant with magnolia blossoms, cascaded with the warmth of an early summer.
“Interesting movie,” he said.
“I know. It kinda had that ‘deja-vu all over again’ feeling,” she responded.
Simpatico quiet settled again, draping the two in a cloak of contentment. The silence was broken by her giggle.
“You really could be Ashton’s doppelganger, you know.”
“So I’ve been told,” he smiled.
They continued on the path not noticing a slightly darker shadow separating itself from the shelter of the fountain.
I love what you did here Kool Aid.
“a slightly darker shadow separating itself from the shelter of the fountain.”
That was the best line for sure.
You know I love your stuff, Kool Aid. You are the awesomest.
Love the twist at the end, Kool Aid!
The Valentine’s Day Effect
Jack:
“Billy what the hell are you doing?”
Billy:
“Oh, hi Jack. I am just sitting here watching my doppelganger trespass through the velvet lined hallway of this miniature building, and enjoying the fragrant smell of crushed rose petals. Why do you ask?
Jack:
“It doesn’t look like you are just sitting and watching anything. Your shadow is just jumping and twitching all over the place. We are usually simpatico, but you are behaving very strangely.”
Billy:
“It might have something to do with the butterfly effect of cupid visiting again this weekend.”
Jack:
“What are you talking about?”
Billy:
“The proximity of cupid’s return produces a luminescent warmth, which in turn stirs thoughts in my mind bringing visions of my doppelganger to mind and I like to watch her react.”
Jack:
“OK, that explains it. You are in love with yourself.”
Steve, that’s your best one yet! It felt like you really enjoyed writing this one.
And I like what you did with your website on the posterous section.
Thanks Shane.
I did enjoy writing this one. I really didn’t know how I was going to work these prompts in, they seemed so disconnected, but I think the cupid prompt brought it all together in my mind with Valentine’s Day so close.
As to the posterous, I needed someplace to place this kind of thing, and it was very quick and easy to set up and update.
I love the fact that the CCC has an influence in people creating their own creative outlets. That’s something that really makes me feel good about this site.
Just echoing Shane, cool job on the Posterous.
“Slow and easy… slow and easy…” James murmured to himself as he brought the gun to eye level, sighting his victim across the park. 100 feet. She’d be like an innocent deer going down.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed the shadow slipping behind a tree. Good. They were both in position now – the hit couldn’t leave the park’s fragrant warmth alive. That was the reason headquarters sent him out with a veritable doppelganger.
The victim sat on a park bench and James swore under his breath. Nearby, a couple embraced as if cupid had struck them, ignorant of the near-luminescent glow of attraction they threw off. But that wasn’t what bothered him. What bothered James was that there was a potential butterfly effect of fear if he took his shot. The whole park would go wild.
He tilted his head and lifted a hand to the radio on his shoulder. “I’m calling it off,” he muttered into it. “It’s a trespass situation.” The velvet voice of his simpatico hit partner confirmed his order, and James noticed the man turning away from the tree to blend into the park’s walkers as if he’d never been aiming a gun.
James did the same, walking out of the park and passing two feet near his victim. She was lucky today.
She might not be tomorrow.
Holy Bleep, James! That is the best in this assassin series. I want to see this as a movie.
Great job.
This is one awesome story line!
I agree, that might’ve been my favorite of the assassin series as well.
The volumes of draped, hanging red satin cast an eerie shadow over the the otherwise placid and ordinary hotel courtyard. The warmth of the sun over the numerous trellises of jasmine surrounding the setting created an overwhelming fragrant , almost nauseating wall of seemingly romantic butterfly effect proportions. He looked into one of the many gilded mirrors brought in to enhance the ambiance, his skin luminescent with the pearlized body makeup they made him wear. He was simpatico to the whole sentimental Valentine’s “aint love grand, blah, blah, blah” thing, but this was a bit much. If he didn’t need the money so badly he would never has listened to his agent and accepted this gig, but he had car payments, mortgage payments and massive credit card debt to contend with. Life could be very difficult for a struggling actor. ”Let Cupid show you the way ” singles dance, indeed!! So there he was, just waiting to trespass upon unsuspecting couples for comic effect.
Poised behind the wisteria vines he waited for his musical clue to spring into action with his bow and arrow and curly blond wig, a cherubic doppleganger of himself wearing nothing but a velvet thong !! He’d be real happy when the economy got stronger!
The “velvet thong” was a great touch. I can’t get the image out of my mind now.
We should make a poster for the wall like that!
Margaret, that’s probably one of your most descriptive submissions (if not THE most).
Super funny, too. Great write.
Thanks, Shane…had fun with this one. How many cheesy Valentine’s events are going into production as we speak? ok, now I get to go make LOTS of valentines flowers over the next few days. HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, EVERYONE!!!
Great write Mom, learn to use the Enter Key.
ROFLMAO. Loved it! Good write & great concept!
I laughed after reading this…very nice!
“FUCK!” Carmen screamed. The sudden pain smashed against her nail and shot through her body. She looked at her foot. The view was clear, even through the circling stars – the crack in her big nail ran from midway on the left side, diagonally up and across until its abrupt end where a kernel sized chunk was missing. In its place, a battered bit of frayed and swollen meat.
Carmen dropped onto the sofa and pulled her leg into her lap, rubbing her foot and rocking her head back and forth, silently pleading with the pain to disappear. She couldn’t afford it, not tonight. She only had a few minutes to get ready as it was. Work had run long and she had to rush home just to get 20 minutes to pull herself together.
Even through the searing pain, Carmen felt happy and surprisingly hopeful. For the last several years she’d had trouble understanding why more men didn’t ask her out. Perhaps it was an occupational hazard of working in a flower shop. The few men who came in to buy flowers for themselves rather than for a girlfriend or a wife, had no interest in what lay in wait beneath her clothes.
Perfectly simpatico, and a respectable 7/8 if the votes on RateMyLooks.Com were to be believed, Carmen was a little confused but mostly sad that she was nearing 30 and had only drifted through relationships for the last several years like the sun pulls a shadow through the day. Valentine’s was the worst, each year sending her into a lonelier spiral than the one before.
But Cupid had been kind this year.
The man in the shop today, he’d managed to pierce her with his kind eyes, sending a shudder of warmth over her shoulders and down her spine. She’d felt luminescent beneath his gaze, as though she’d been the only thing in the entire store that mattered; as though she were as pretty as the deep velvet red in his swaddle of roses.
Carmen wondered about the butterfly effect of life, as she often did when meeting someone new, and always did if that someone new might somehow or someday change her life forever.
What if she’d been in the back cooler when it had been his turn at the counter?
What if she’d been too timid to look him in the eye?
What if he’d lingered too long at a red light and saw another more convenient flower shop on his way to hers?
Would he be on his way somewhere else, or would he be driving back home for an evening alone, no different than her? Could the entire course of her life really be swayed by the thin space in between red and green?
Carmen had felt a constant tingle ever since he had left the shop, wading through the army of minutes that felt like forever. And now, here she was, massaging a purple, bleeding toe while the clock swallowed her precious minutes. Carmen took a deep breath then stood. It might’ve been the sudden standing or the large bucket filled with fragrant flowers still sitting uncut on the kitchen counter, but her head, already swimming, started to drown.
Carmen collapsed back into the couch just as the buzzer on the wall begged her attention.
He was ten minutes early and she was a mess. She squeezed her eyes, then stood and hobbled over to the door, slapping her hand on the buzzer while trying to steady herself. “Hello,” she said.
“Hi, it’s me, Evan. Sorry I’m early, I hope it’s okay. There was zero traffic getting here.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll just need a few minutes to get ready. Let me buzz you in.”
“Perfect, thanks.”
There was something in his voice, strong but kind. Carmen smiled and headed to the bedroom. At the very least she needed to get out of the sweat soaked pink sweater she’d been wearing since before the sun was in the sky. She peeled it from her skin, no time to look for another outfit, and slipped on a red dress the last man she’d slept with more than once said made her look like a walking heartache. Probably a bit too fancy, but if she couldn’t pull it off on Valentine’s Day, she’d have no idea if she ever could again.
The dress cascaded down her body and fluttered at her knees just as the doorbell rang.
Carmen opened the door and looked at the man she’d been dreaming about all day. He was smiling, holding a single stem of the Black Magic Roses from the three dozen he’d bought earlier. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said.
Carmen blushed and took the rose. “Come in.” She pointed toward the sofa and said, “Make yourself at home. I just need a few minutes before I’m ready. Sorry, it was a killer day at work.”
“I can imagine.” Evan slipped off his shoes and set them by the door. He removed his jacket and folded it across his arm, then changed his mind and hung it on a hook behind the door.
From her bedroom Carmen said, “So where would you like to go?”
“Actually, I was thinking maybe we could stay in. Everywhere is sure to be crowded tonight. Why fight the masses and the noise when we could get to know each other better here?”
Something inside Carmen bristled, but not in the good way. “Oh…, I’ve been looking forward to eating all night,” she said, “and I know a great place where there won’t be any wait, even tonight.”
Her suggestion was met by silence. She left the bedroom. Entering the front room she saw Evan standing, his eyes immediately fixed on hers. “I think we should stay in,” he said.
A frozen fear crackled across her skin, the hair on her arm suddenly flirting with frostbite. “I…I don’t want to,” Carmen shook her head.
“I wasn’t asking,” Evan was still smiling, but now it was cold and predatory – his bleached teeth suddenly seeming to Carmen a threat.
She took a step back. Her throat was in her stomach and the pain in her toe completely forgotten. Evan took a step forward. A sudden flood turned the fabric between Carmen’s legs a darker shade of red.
This was not the man from the flower shop. Who was this trespassing doppleganger?
Carmen would’ve screamed, but her throat was still stuck in her stomach.
A frozen fear crackled across her skin, the hair on her arm suddenly flirting with frostbite. “I…I don’t want to,” Carmen shook her head.
That gave me chills, too. Excellent, Sean!
(and I have no idea why this is italicized)
Then what?! Then what?!
“Sorry, it was a killer day at work.” Now that’s a nice clue now wasn’t it!
Sean! Close your bold tag, brother! Now the rest of us look like we’re yelling!
While eternally forbidden to trespass beyond the warmth of Cupid‘s luminescent shadow, the doppelganger — thanks in no small part to the butterfly effect — is still considered by many to be as simpatico as fragrant velvet.
PS: Happy Valentine’s Day.
Damn Jaced! You still beat me by 7 words. I gave it my best sir. Props to you.
And to you, my friend. I must admit that I subconsciously hijacked your fragrant velvet. Didn’t realize that until later.
On another note, why is everything italicized?
I’ve no idea how you do it week to week, post to post, but awesome as usual bro.
PROGRAMMING NOTE!
I fixed the italic issue. Good thing I used to code websites huh!
Also, for this Valentine’s day it would be cool if you guys could give us one more gift besides your awesome submissions. We’d love it if you could each convince just one of your friends to give it a go. We’d double the size of our awesome sauce just like that.
Thanks.
In the shadow of Valentine’s Day which trespasses around the weekend, I am asked to write a Creative Copy Challenge with the words doppelganger and simpatico. I have no idea how to incorporate them into a sentence, so I’ll leave them where they are.
I’d like to focus this sentence, instead, on the luminescent Roman god, Cupid, and his erotic butterfly effect which affects men to provide women with velvet candies and causes fragrant hearts to flutter in warmth.
Is this OK for you lovers?
That’s too funny Ari. We were considering putting definitions next to those words. I had to look them up just to make sure I was using them correctly.
Awesome way to work them in.
I can’t believe how awesomely how cleverly you used doppelganger and simpatico. Really cool.
Here’s a shorter one:
In the black velvet of the tower’s shadow, the cloaked stalker hovered like a dark cupid. Casting its luminescent eyes upward, it awaited its impending tresspass.
The quarry, another voluptuous wench, waiting unknowingly in the fragrant warmth of her balcony, unaware of her doppleganger‘s presence only meters away. When the moment approached, the figure below stiffened. The wench leaned forward slightly to blow a petal off of her fingertips, delicately triggering the butterfly effect she was still in complete ignorance of. The cloaked menace floated slowly forward, it was now inches away. Its grisly lips parted, and in the ear of its prey it whispered a single word.
“Simpatico…”
“What?” the girl squawked. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” the figure relinquished. “Google it.”
Got me, Peter! Totally unexpected, and totally cool write.
Super-cool.
Thanks. Though I still haven’t Googled it. D’oh…
As she dressed in velvet for dinner she knew they were simpatico; it was not just an illusion. His reputation as a womanizer in truth belonged to his doppelganger. Applying only a bit of her Butterfly Effect perfume, she knew how fragrant and luminescent she was.
When he gently dropped a kiss on her cheek she knew Cupid was letting him trespass directly to her heart, filling her with warmth all over and barely a shadow of a doubt.
Anne, you little minx you!
I really liked that one.
“she knew Cupid was letting him trespass directly to her heart” was the best line.
Great use of Butterfly Effect!
Anne,
Got to get me some Butterfly Effect perfume. You know that would sell like Black Magic roses on Valentine’s weekend…
I’m always tickled when nifty things run out of my fingers and into type. Thanks you three.
When it comes to the rabbit warren that is the interweb I’m still very much wearing my L plates. I was l8 picking up leet but I’ve learnt to LMAO and w00t. I have poked and tagged on Facebook. Now I’m dipping my toe in its doppelganger @Twitter with its twittosphere of twitticisms and twitteritas.
This is a butterfly effect a la social media. Like a fly to a luminescent, people are drawn in to be part of the conversation, to know what the world is talking about. Before you know it the golden arrow of social media’s cupid has hit you and you are ensnared by its fragrant charm.
And as fast as you join, a new world order emerges – buzzing, waving, and becoming Mayor about town. I have enough tweets to compete with a bulging aviary; more threads than a seamstress and more feeds than a maternity unit. How can I possible take on board any more?
Conversation is a shadow of its former self, with the interweb trespassing onto face to face meetings and even picking up the phone is sooo last year.
There is nothing better than the warmth of personal contact. The velvet tones of a proper conversation.
C’mon you geeks out there, be a bit more simpatico! Slow down before you make my computer explode!
Sam, if you don’t have a writing website, GO AND GET ONE NOW! That was fantastic. I never would have imagined such a submission. That’s why I love the CCC though. It’s a fantastic journey into the minds of so many creative people out there.
Everyone, welcome Sam, another fine contribution from the U.K..
Welcome, Sam. It’s good to meet you!
“I have enough tweets to compete with a bulging aviary; more threads than a seamstress and more feeds than a maternity unit.”
Love that!
I’m with Kool Aid. You described 2.0-mania perfectly, Sam!
Very cool, Sam, and welcome! Am I showing my age too much because I totally relate to:
Conversation is a shadow of its former self, with the interweb trespassing onto face to face meetings and even picking up the phone is sooo last year.
Love the creativity!
In the beginning.
In the beginning was a better time and place to remember.
In the beginning the warmth of his breath turned her body liquid, the sweetly whispered Cupid words melted her, the velvet touch of his tongue ignited a passionate response. The fragrant candles he lit turned the dingy apartment into a luminescent sanctuary. She laughed when he moaned, “Simpatico,” not exactly sure what it meant, but it sounded romantic, exotic. ”Oh sweet Joe,” she replied , “I’ll let you trespass into my secret garden any time.”
But, Cecily reminded herself, “I should have paid attention.” She’d seen her doppleganger slip out the door that night. She’d convinced herself it was only a shadow, but it was there, even in the beginning, the butterfly effect of one stupid decision leading to another until her universe collapsed into a black hole of despair.
Damn that was good. Cecily makes a return visit for our benefit! Love what you are weaving here Loran. Keep it up.
“The fragrant candles he lit turned the dingy apartment into a luminescent sanctuary.” Favorite line.
This one took me four tries, I definitely felt creatively challenged. I appreciate all your encouraging comments.
You can blame David for that. He actually picked the words this time.
Yeah, the words were a bit more difficult to work around, but I really enjoyed the challenge, which is I guess evidenced by my 1,200 word entry.
Melanie is usually afraid of her own shadow, but not tonight. Even though she’s about to trespass on the Wethersby property, she must find out what is happening inside the 19th century Victorian home. The warmth of the adrenaline runs through her, she can hardly catch her breath. There’s a fragrant smell coming from the gardens. She knows she’s getting closer to the house.
Melanie walks towards the door and pushes it. The door opens and Melanie walks inside, shaking off the cold of the night. Slam! The door closes behind her and she jumps about 10 feet. “Is anyone there?” says Melanie. She shines her flashlight and catches a glimpse of herself in the gold framed mirror that hangs on the wall. Melanie falls back and hits the credenza that sits against the wall. Melanie sees a doppelganger starring back at her for a fleeting moment. It disappears as fast as it appeared. “Hello, I mean no harm,” says Melanie. She continues to walk through the manner.
Melanie shines her flashlight upon a painting of a cupid. The smiling cherub seems to have a twinkle in his eyes. Melanie notices a luminescent light coming from the door on the right. She turns the knob and enters the room. A red velvet Victorian settee sits against a wall. A couple of chairs are by the window, a table separates them. Melanie feels at ease because the room is simpatico and reminds her of her grandmother’s home in Waverly, New York. Melanie feels a presence with her in the room. She turns around only to find a handsome, ghostly man starring at her. He whispers, “Welcome Melanie, you just set off the butterfly effect.” Melanie drops her flashlight and faints!
Welcome Rebecca. Thank you for the wonderful submission.
I was wondering when someone from the Grand Canyon State would show up!
Everyone welcome Rebecca to the CCC. It’s an addictive blast in here. You’ll see.
ps. How’d you find us?
I have no idea why but your writing reminded me of a Choose Your Own Adventure book I loved as a tween ~ something about an old mansion and sneaking inside. Anyway, excellent job, I loved it!
Welcome, Rebecca! And Shane’s right, it’s totally addicting…but so nice to get away from the business side of things and remember why we love to write!
Shane,
Thanks for the welcome! I found you through Anne’s website http://www.aboutfreelancewriting.com. She posted an entry titled Friday Fun For Freelance Writers and had a link to your website.
Kool Aid (cool name)
Thanks for the feedback. I’m glad you like the story. I have an idea for a young adult book (possibly a series) that I’d like to write and then turn into a screenplay. So many ideas, not enough hours in the day!
Rebecca, I hate to say it, but it may be too late for you to fight the CCC addiction, thus, further cutting into your hours!
Once you start…
Even on the subway in August, headed for 168th Street, her warmth was palpable in our crowded car. I breathed deeply of her air and my heart skipped a beat. Cupid was not above making my jeans tighten—unnoticeably, I hoped—when I leaned in to watch her velvet brown curls shine red under the fluorescent lights. We got off together.
I walked quickly, inhaling her fragrant presence, trying to keep up with those long legs so I could stare at her luminescent skin under the fading summer sun. I’d get control of myself. I’d bump into her at the crosswalk. I’d apologize and tell her we could save each other’s lives if only we’d stop the race long enough to have coffee.
The traffic cooperated; I sidled up and introduced myself, John, the man who’d love to take her to…
ACHOO!!
How could the fact that my nose was tickled by a newly-freed butterfly, effect such changes on my descendants?
The shadow of my left arm, gripping a ring on the jerking car on the way down to Canal Street, fell across her right breast. Watching the petite blonde heave deep sighs there on the midmorning 1 Train, was it trespassing? After all, she’d already grabbed my shadow. When she looked up, green eyes rimmed with red from crying, I put on my best simpatico face to no effect at all. “Find something better to do,” she snarled, and she sank into steely silence.
My doppelganger, on the hunt and overconfident the night before, whispered out through a crack in the door, to wander subterranean Manhattan. I slumped into the empty seat he left for me and apologized for my (almost) accidental aggression, while my own chrysalis began to evolve.
Shane,
So true! I love all of the posts…very creative…
Sitting on his deck with feet propped on the railing, Brett took another sip of his lite beer, wishing it was Simpatico instead. The velvet warmth of the summer night drifted with the fragrant scent of flowers he couldn’t name. He was weary deep into his soul. Twenty-five years as a homicide detective took its toll. He felt no joy in solving the Birdcage Bandit case. Too many had died before a judge sentenced the serial killer to life. He got life – more than you could say for his victims.
Shutting his eyes, Brett struggled to banish the visions from his mind – the cupid-shaped lips of the last victim frozen in a soundless scream.
Maybe because he was a cop, he felt the trespass of the shadow he did not see. Opening his eyes, he looked into the luminescent mirror of his soul. Had he found his doppelganger or had he finally lost his mind? Had some moment in time caused the butterfly effect that brought him here? And what did it all mean?
Cathy. I have to say, I believe that was your best one yet.
drifted with the fragrant scent of flowers he couldn’t name
the cupid-shaped lips of the last victim frozen in a soundless scream
Very nice!
Thank you, Shane. Practice makes perfect.
I do appreciate the opportunity you provide to get the creative juices flowing. Have a great weekend!
You too!
Poetry is not my standard means of expression by any means, so bear with this one.
Feel the warmth as shadows trespass over your soul,
A doppelganger’s thievery of morals once believed as thine own,
The sincere butterfly effect of our first love,
True velvet simpatico of souls thrust together;
Once the fragrant petals of cupid’s love,
Now simply the luminescent afterglow of time and age.
I’m bearing with it, and likin’ it, too! Very nice.
“luminescent afterglow” did it for me.
What I love about this place is you can try so many different styles and it doesn’t take you years to write it.
Since you’ve asked, I’ll tell you.
Vivian was the love of my life, the soul of my soul, my goddess and to some a temptress. But to Vivian I was just a friend, simpatico, if you will, at least that’s what she said. Still, I know in my heart she secretly thought of me as a scrawny, geeky wimp. After all, that’s just what I was.
Several years ago I took Vivian to the beach where we enjoyed the surf and the sun. Here, in my usual servitude posture, I rubbed a fragrant lotion on her velvet skin. With this, my hormones became so unglued that I chanced to scribble, “I love you,” in the sand.
But before Vivian could turn to see my longing note, a huge hairy, steroidal figure cast a shadow over us, blocking the warmth of the sun as he stepped on the sandy note, grinding it from whence it came.
“Hey skinny, yer ribs are showing.” he said, looking down at me.
I looked up and saw a mammoth mound of muscles who’s given name at birth must have been Goliath.. He was almost wearing a forced fit, tiny French bikini bathing suit that trespassed all boundaries of morality.
I sprang to my feet, the first of many moves precipitating a drastic butterfly effect culminating to date. Nonetheless, I protested, “Watch what you say fella……” He interrupted with, “Shut up you bag of bones,” followed by a punch that drove me a foot into the sand.
Bells were still ringing in my head when last I saw them stroll into the sunset. Vivian, latched tight to his steroid dripping bicep and that turncoat cupid setting on his shoulder.
I remember saying out loud, “Darn it! I’m tired of being a skinny scarecrow. Charles Atlas says he can make me a new man! I’ll gamble a stamp and get his free book.” I did.
After a few weeks of pumping iron, I returned to the beach to find Goliath, thinking I was a doppelganger and seeking revenge. Sure enough there he was, Vivian still attached to his bicep.
I approached them and looked the big man in the eye and said, “Here’s a love tap from the bag of bones! Remember?”
He stepped aside as I swung, missing him and hitting Vivian square in her left temple. She went down like the preverbal bag of flower.
Goliath dropped to the sand and administered CPR to her, but it was to no avail, Vivian was dead.
Stunned, Goliath stood and cried, “She’s dead.” He then pulled a policeman’s badge and handcuffs from his tiny French bikini, obscene bathing suit and informed he, “You’re under arrest for murder.”
To date, I’ve served six of a fifteen year sentence for my deed. Yesterday I returned from an hour of exercise in the yard. (as it’s called) to my 6 X 8 foot barred adobe where I was lovingly greeted by my 6 X 8 foot, tooth challenged, cell mate named Testosterone. His luminescent smile pointed in the direction of the graffiti stained wall where he had just etched, “I love you.”
I loved the twist at the end. And anything Clarles Atlas is awesome. His letter is world famous among the direct response, advertising crowd. He made millions as more skilled lifters toiled in obscurity.
Thanks Shane. I wonder how many will see this as a spoof on that comic book advertisement.
I envied my doppelganger. Instead of him living in my shadow, it seemed my life paled in comparison to his. He lived in places that were fragrant and sultry. I spent my time in cold, sterile rooms lacking any warmth. My wistful attempts at a better life turned out to be a sham, a trespass on reality.
Wasn’t my life supposed to be the reality while he occupied a ghostly shadow of my existence? I should wear the velvet, enjoy the girl with the luminescent eyes (it seemed Cupid had forgotten me, too), go to the theater to watch the Butterfly Effect. Where had things gone wrong? Instead of me, it was he who was simpatico with the girl of my dreams. He had it all, and I had… nothing.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out.
Karetha, that was a skilled twist of scripts there. Love what you did here.
Thanks
The doppelganger sat in the shadow, waiting patiently. It’s trespass would go unnoticed. There was no warmth, no fragrance, no motion. Just the quiet passing of time as it waited. And waited.
I had no clue that it was there. No clue that it was stalking me or anyone else. Maybe it wasn’t actually after me. Maybe it’s my oversize ego that thinks that it was. Perhaps it was her that it stalked. I don’t know. But like the butterfly effect that starts a hurricane, it’s effects have been so far reaching that I would have never imagined them just a few days ago.
Fragrant and luminescent, the candles over the velvet covered bed flickered by the window. I thought that Cupid had shot me threw the heart! “My Cherie!” I cried out as I looked at her. I loved her! I loved her with all of my heart and soul. Simpatico. I would never want another as I wanted her. And then it moved. And in less time than it takes to take a quick breath the love of my life lay dead before me and the gun in my hand had put all 10 shots into a fist sized hole in the doppelgangers head.
How would I find out who had set it loose? How would I find the man who had just destroyed my eternity?
And then I threw up.
Cleve, that was awesome. You’re really hitting the ball out of the park.
Really, that was some great writing. And your ending was so unexpected, it made me chuckle out loud.
Bonjour mon amis,
Bayou Billy here taking a walk down almost memory lane. Yes sir, it’s right up dere by prequel park. You see, I done joined Shane and the bunch on the 15th – that’s episode 15, not the 15th of da munth. Anyways, I figured since all dem utter folks done did all dese utter challenges I reckoned I aught do the some a dem too. But since I’m writin’ these things in real time I can’t very well go back in time or I’d be me own doppleganger and Lord a-mighty, one a me is enough. So each one of dese things is jist gonna be stuff I’m tinkin’ about waiting for Shane and dem dere utter fellers to git off dere ass and post 10 new words. Don’t know what da hold up is, not like days inventing the damn words. Now that would make for an interesting challenge… I’ll make up 10 words and you gots to figure out what in the hell you supposed to do wit dem. I betcha da men and da women come up wit polar opposite meanings too.
Womens does e’rything the opposite of men… just look at how a butterfly effects a man and woman in different ways – a woman gets all mushy inside and a man just steps on the friggin’ thing. Ain’t exactly cupid material but I’m thinking it could be worse. I knewed a fella use to take the girl he was courtin out in his pirogue and eads her stupid poetry he made up his-self.
Come to think of it, dat was me. Would you like me to read one of my poems? Okay, here goes…..
How was that?
Oh wait, you can’t actually hear me can ya? I’m a little slow sometimes, one second I say it again only louder… I’m just kidding. I’m gonna types it into the ‘puter fer ya. He goes…..
Ode to My Future Ex-Wife
I likes yer smile and all three of your teeth
I likes it when you crawls underneath
The fragrant smell of the beer on yer breath
Smells a lot better than the crabs we et
Yer hair is soft like touching velvet
Too bad yer breasts ain’t grow’d out yet
The luminescent moon is shinin’ on da bayou
Lets duck in the shadows so we can screw
You looked so pretty all dressed up for the dance
I wants to bend you o’er like they did in deliverance
Yer chasity belt says I can’t trespass
But I likes you more than even bluegrass
I wrote you dis poem so you would always know
I don’t just likes you cuz you got sympatico
Yer a purdy as a picture, like a new born pup
and I’d like you even if you only had dial up
The warmth of yer smile is a sight to behold
So’s that pimple on yer face if the truth be told
We should get hitched and be my gumbo queen
We is cousins after all and yer almost thirteen
Seems like only yesterday when I first made dat poem up fer her. Brings a tear to my eye. Not for nuttin’ romantic, I just thought of how big she done got and it makes me wanna cry. She done got so big she stood on one of them talking scales and it done begged for mercy. So as I was reading dat poem I says to myself, “Self,” and I recognized the voice right away cuz it sounded just like me, “Self.” I says, “Me think you should do something special for your anniversary.” So I made some reservations to go eat at one of them fancy restaurants wit the Maitre D and everything. And if it’s any good, next year I might even bring my wife.
And then Song was gone.
Velvet stepped forward. “You don’t get to my age by being a fool,” she said, waving her chrome quill in the air. She lifted her chin to meet the sun’s luminescent blue rays. “Ah, warmth,” she sighed. “There really isn’t anything quite like the sun on your face. I must find my way out of that musky old library more often.”
Then she turned back to me.
“You know, you and I aren’t exactly simpatico, Johnny. You were brought here to do a job and you aren’t exactly setting this world on fire.” She cocked a brow. “I expected better from you, or more anyway. Do I need to write you up a doppelganger?”
“Ah…” I stammered.
“Nevermind, Johnny. You probably wouldn’t make anymore use of it than your shadow. Look, you aren’t here to play Cupid.”
“I’m not sure I know what that means,” I confessed.
“You aren’t here to write happy endings, Johnny. You are here to write out the flat bastards that trespass on the pages of the SEU!” She shuffled forward and lowered her horn-rimmed glasses. “Do you know what the butterfly effect is, Johnny?”
“Ah, yes…”
“Be that butterfly.”
And then Velvet was gone. The vanilla sedan was gone. The rancid cesspool was gone.
I had forgotten how fragrant a blank page could smell.
What a story Troy. I can’t get enough of this universe you created.
Fragrant candles flickered around the bed, casting an inviting glow across the walls. “Only the shadow knows!” Gus whispered in Lena’s ear, his hand trespassing up her skirt.
Rather than being struck by cupid‘s arrow, Lena felt a mirthful warmth creep up her throat. “Gus, I know I said that we should try something mysterious, but all this is doing is making me laugh.” Her tone held laughter, but was still simpatico with her bewildered husband.
He pouted. “Are you saying I’m not Alec Baldwin’s doppelganger?”
“Um, honey, I think that’s a good thing, these days,” she laughed, though his expression was still hurt. “Oh, Gus, you’re much more good-looking that Alec Baldwin. He’s fat! And you’re…luminescent.”
“Luminescent?” he echoed, cocking an eyebrow.
“Well, in these glow-in-the-dark condoms…”
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice no longer velvet. “I’m just going to hope that somewhere, a man is being sexy with his wife and it will have a butterfly effect on us. In the meantime, I’m just going to be me.”
With that, he pulled his boxers onto his head and leaped at his giggling wife.
@Sara: OUTSTANDING. And damn funny too. Great visual scene you set there.
Thanks Shane!
My shadow is a doppelganger, I feared. But it was too late. Cupid started a butterfly effect.
The luminescent velvet Elvis is simpatico. Her fragrant warmth trespasses on the alcohol in my brain.
“I do,” I said.
Not everything stays in Vegas.
@Steven: “Vegas Baby…Vegas. You’re so money, you don’t know how money you are.”