Doing Free Time

by David

Will opened the letter from Stupendous Stories. He had just sent “Revenge of the Kudzu-Eaters” two days ago, and here was the reply. “Dear Mr. Stockton. It is with profound regret that I write to inform you…” A rejection! Well, he’d revise the story and send it to Daring Tales. He was pondering “which” vs “that”, when the phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Hi Will, want to go to the movies?”

“Aw, Mary Ann, I’m in the middle of a story…”

“But I didn’t see you at all last weekend. What’s the new story about?”

“I’m revising Kudzu-Eaters.”

“SS didn’t like it? That story was great!”

“Thank you. Look, I’ll call you when I get done. Promise.”

A new story. He did have an idea about a sequel to the classic “Mole Men” tale.

“The black needle ships descended in their thousands, disgorging the sinuous bodies of the Mustelid Marine. Ambush predators by nature, they made the ideal guerrilla warriors….”

He quit working on “Attack of the Space Weasels” when he got too hungry to think.

10:30. Too late to call Mary Ann now. He assembled a turkey sandwich. Then he made a second one.

In the morning, he kept his eye on the mailbox. As soon as the postman arrived, Will was out there to get the mail.

Not counting junk mail and bills there was a letter from Stupendous Stories and one from Daring Tales.

The envelope from Daring Tales contained “Kudzu-Eaters” – which he had only put in the mail that morning. Stupendous Stories had accepted “…Space Weasels.” He looked over at the computer, where the unfinished story showed on the screen.

“I wonder how it ends,” he thought.

He reached for the phone. “Mary Ann? I’ve got some time tonight; still want to see that movie?” Before they left he jotted down a note: “write something about an empire in an underground lake.”

The next day he received $350 payment for “Empire of Darkness,” and another $275 for the sequel.

Will quickly settled into the practice of coming up with story ideas and collecting checks for the unwritten stories.

Three months later he was arrested for the murder of his wife Mary Ann.

“I haven’t even married her,” he protested.

“You will,” Sheriff Sims said grimly.

The end

Always Invite The Gnome

by SaraG

The garden gnome couldn’t sleep. The thumpa-thumpa coming from the neighbour’s house made the windows vibrate. Albert turned on his side and stuffed the tip of his red cap into his ear. Nothing. He could still hear the sound of people having fun without him.

Why hadn’t he been invited? He was a nice gnome, polite and respectful. He mostly kept to himself, sitting on that tuft of moss in the back yard. He hardly ever crept up on anybody using magic and it had been a whole month since the last time he’d spied on the neighbour while she was dressing.

Albert dressed and went out to the garden. The grass didn’t tease him about not being invited to the party. The lawn could be sarcastic, but for once, it kept quiet. That almost made it worse; he must be pitiful if even the grass had decided to put on its tact gloves for him.

The lawn transmitted minute vibrations originating a couple yards away. A party goer must be trespassing. The nerve! He’d show ’em!

Albert tiptoed closer to the source of the grassy disturbance. A figure silhouetted against the moon, murmuring under its breath. There was a shovel in its hand.

“Ehem” Albert coughed . The creature jumped and turned around, clutching a sack.

“I won’t give it to you!,” shouted the leprechaun.

Leprechauns always thought you were after their stash of gold and they were capable of anything to protect it.

“This is private property,” said Albert. His eyes widened; he had an idea. It was evil and twisted. It was perfect.

Without hesitation, he reached for the leprechaun’s stash and chucked it over the wall into the neighbour’s yard.

“You! You!,” shouted the enraged leprechaun. The creature darted off, tearing through the brick divider as if it were styrofoam and crashing the party with, well, a crash.

From the other side of the wall, came shouts and the sound of broken glass. A symphony of havoc. Albert smiled. He’d sleep well tonight.