Weekly Prompt Story: Starting Smoking

http://oneadayuntilthedayidie.com/?p=23405

Starting Smoking

By Christopher Munroe

You’d tried everything, but nothing had worked. So you came to me.

I sat you down, made you comfortable.

Counted down from 100, each number causing you to fall into a deeper state of relaxation, each word causing you to sink deeper, trust deeper, fall deeper under the spell of the soft, soothing words I spoke to you.

And once I was confident you were under, I whispered my command in your ear.

“You will smoke.” I told you, and you never smoked again.

You never would have, had it not been for me.

That’s the power of pre-hypnotic suggestion…

Valentine's Day

When she saw the ring, there at the bottom of her drink, her eyes went wide. As you’d expect them to.

It had been the perfect romantic meal, topped by a grand romantic gesture, and for a moment she couldn’t believe it. couldn’t believe it was happening to her. Her mouth worked silently as she tried to put together what she was seeing, tried to force words out against their will, to respond to what was laying there, before her, at the bottom of the glass, but it was all too much to process.

I thought she was going to cry, maybe she thought that too, for a few seconds, but she blinked back the tears, shook her head, and looked up into the eyes of the man she loved.

“Yes.” She finally whispered, “Oh God yes. Of course I will!”

And that’s when his eyes went wide.

And as he started sputtering and stammering that none of this had anything to do with him, and the perfect romantic moment they’d shared began its descent into the fight that would surely threaten the very foundation of their relationship, I watched from the nearby side stand, doing my best not to giggle.

The fake engagement ring wasn’t even that expensive.

It was totally worth what I’d paid.

Being a waiter isn’t the most rewarding job a man can have, indeed there are days when I think it might break me, body and spirit.

Still, Valentine’s Day makes it all worthwhile…

Weekly Prompt Story: Switch

http://oneadayuntilthedayidie.com/?p=23273

After the Adventure

By Christopher Munroe

…I’d switched the idol for a forgery. So by the time Heinrich’s crew found the temple and deactivated its booby-traps, I’d long since absconded with the treasure.

That’s where my troubles began.

I don’t know the first thing about fencing ancient artifacts, and I’d financed the expedition on money borrowed from people who wouldn’t accept “…once I find a buyer” in lieu of cash.

And to make matters worse, Heinrich will definitely figure out that I have the thing eventually.

He’s not stupid.

I expect this isn’t over...

…also, there’s a horrible curse, but that’s a story for another day.

No Need to Worry

There’s nothing in my closet.

Nothing under the bed.

Nothing outside my window.

In fact, there is no window.

Everything outside of my most immediate frame of reference, that which extends beyond the nearest reach of my senses, has at some point vanished, and all that’s left is me, in my bed, covers pulled over my head.

On the other side of this quilt gapes empty void.

And when I close my eyes, I have no doubt the quilt will vanish too.

All my life I was afraid of what might be out there.

Now: There is nothing.

So… good?

Weekly Prompt Story: Black

http://oneadayuntilthedayidie.com/?p=23234

I Finally Get Around to Endorsing an Energy Drink

By Christopher Munroe

I am thirsty.

Life is empty.

Why? Why isn’t there an energy drink for me?

Isn’t there?

Bev-rage, an energy drink by Goths, for Goths, is finally available, assuming you can face the conformists at your local store.

Available in three flavors, Black as Night Black Current, Black as the Raven’s Wing Black Cherry and Black as my Soul Salt-Cola, Bev-rage provides the energy you need for moping, writing poetry, or just sitting alone listening to old Cure records through oversized headphones.

All the activities a Goth might need energy for…

Bev-rage, buy it.

Drink it.

Quench your existential thirst.

Who You Think You Are

You wrote us an essay.

The spelling was atrocious, the grammar a mess, but you assured us it wouldn’t matter, if we’d only look deeper.

Looking deeper was, in fact, your central thesis. That you weren’t myopically seeking attention at everyone else’s expense, but rather possessed immeasurable inner beauty that we’d unjustly judged. You felt it was a lesson we desperately needed to learn.

We needed to stop judging you based on your actions, and see the beautiful person you truly were.

On the inside.

The person you’d never, ever share with anyone, for fear that they might taint it.

Weekly Prompt Story: Tea

http://oneadayuntilthedayidie.com/?p=23201

Tea

By Christopher Munroe

As you know, I work at a restaurant.

As you may not know, prepping pots of Tea is annoying.

It’s more steps than other drinks, so I have to wait in more lines, and half the time we don’t have clean teapots and I either have to wait or hand-wash one.

Which isn’t to say you shouldn’t order tea. It’s your meal. If you want tea have tea.

However, so you know: Next time somebody orders a pot of tea, I make it, get back and their friend orders a pot of tea, I’m burning the place to the ground.