Category Archives: Greek Gods

A CAR IN THE WOODS: #AtoZchallenge

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Prologue

AtoZ2019A A CAR IN THE WOODS

1959

An abandoned car is found in the woods. No road leading in, the dense gathering of trees surrounding it close together. Sunlight barely broke through the thick cover of leaves. The grass was stunted, starving for the light. Prickly brambles grew everywhere.

Nothing the size of that car should have been in there.

Discovered by hunters, Todd Wilson and Barry Carter, who were where they should not have been. Following an 8 point Buck led them on a long, winding chase. The Buck kept his life that day, racing off onto Government land. Todd and Barry knew enough to let it go.

Needing to catch their breaths, both pissed their quarry bounded off, beer was a given answer.  Neither spoke as they chugged; they stared off in the direction of their lost prize.  Todd was on his second beer while Barry was hitting his third. They nodded to each other, tossed the drained cans over their shoulders, and started their way back.

But something shiny caught them both in the eyes. The daylight had moved along just enough. Nothing should have reflected with the intensity that hit them square on. But, something did. Barry nodded and took off in the direction of the glare. Todd followed.

Following the intense gleam, they passed, and ignored, a rusted “Keep Out/ Government Property” sign that hung crookedly on one of the trees. Moving through was becoming tougher, the trees squeezing together. Todd murmured that is like a tree fort. Barry told him to shut it.

The prickly brambles in between the trunks caught at their clothing, drawing enough droplets of blood and curses from the hunters.  They reached the clearing in the middle of all the towering wood. Both stopped, stared, and while Barry’s jaw dropped, Todd whistled. They both loved cars.

They loved this car especially. It came up in every conversation they had about cars. Their visits to the dealer wore out their welcome. Eleven times, with no hint of purchasing any car.

But, here. Their dream car was right before them. Not a soul around; not one they could see, anyway.

A Cherry Red Thunderbird two-door convertible! It was the model they drooled over: it had a 430ci Lincoln Interceptor J-code engine, power steering, power brakes, power windows, power seat and a new power top. It had Kelsey Hayes wire rims, front to back chrome accents, and it was smear and dirt free. What made it a little off was the convertible top: stuck, half up, half down. Barry began a low round of giggles. Todd gave him the look, but laughed himself when Barry told him that it looked like it didn’t know if it was coming or going.

Nothing was found to identify the owner.  No VIN numbers, license plate, papers in the car. No stickers on the inside of the car doors, and nothing under the hood. Todd knew that the last of these beauties were produced in August of that year. It was too pristine to be any older. He thought it be something if this was the very last one made.

The inside was spotless, until Todd and Barry ran their dusty, greasy hands all over while they searched. They marred the doors, dashboard, red vinyl seats with white inserts, and even the shiny body. No matter what, the trunk wouldn’t open. Another thing that spoiled the perfection of this vehicle. .

The realization that the forest had been dead quiet didn’t hit them until a series of clicking sounds came from behind them. First one side, then another. The clicking grew in volume and then stopped. They saw nothing. No movement of any kind. There was hardly any wind to blow the leaves high above, no animals loping through, and no bugs buzzing. Quiet surrounded the duo as their nerves started to wither. The sun started its descent. That was enough. Barry and Todd made a hasty retreat.

They made it back to their truck, and sped home. Todd’s wife, Daphne, listened as they went into the whole story, the Buck a ten pointer, the extra miles they chased it, and the Ford, the Thunderbird that had assaulted Daphne’s ears way too many times. Her arms were crossed and her right foot was tapping away. She thought they just drank the day away. The boys insisted. Insisted very loudly and with enough conviction that Daphne had enough. Best way to get some peace and quiet would be to put this in the hands of the Sheriff.

She settled back with a cold one in her hand. She closed her eyes as she heard the Sheriff’s Fairlane start and drive off.

Sheriff John Miner was close to retirement. Close enough that he really didn’t care if there was a car or not.  If he hadn’t gone against his instincts he might have lived long enough to hand in his badge and retire someplace warm. In the long run, he didn’t make it.

The search for the car was a bust. The Sheriff fumed as he dropped the two dopes outside the local bar.

Todd and Barry, meanwhile, made their story profitable, earning free drinks at the Barn House Bar from folks who wanted to know all the details.  As the telling went on, the story…grew. It wormed its way to nearby towns by weeks end, speculations growing along the way. Wherever Todd and Barry went drinking, they set more wheels spinning.

The searching was intense. Many said they found the trees and the clearing, but no TBird. Reports were passed around: the car was glimpsed in Jeffery Hallow. No; it shone brightly at the opening of the large bear cave on Decry Hill. One group said it was by a stream, others in different parts of the forest. Never any proof; it started to slide out of their minds with each disappointment. People stopped looking for the car.

Until a group of four High School students went looking, and they did not come home.

Present Day

There was a car in the woods.

Charred. Rusted. Busted.

Picked clean. Shell just a remainder.

No road. No reason. Just there.

Not always in the same place, but there.

No one knew anything, the how or the why.

Tales grew around it.

Some said haunted. Some said the Devil parked it there. Maybe a UFO, with all the disappearances. Or not. No one was really sure. Most didn’t want to know.

I knew.

There was a car in the woods.

 

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Author’s Note:

Welcome to the 2019 AtoZ Blog Challenge. This is my sixth year participating, going back to 2011, the year I started Tale Spinning.

My theme this year is A Car In The Woods. First installment is above. Not every post will be this long. Length will vary. I just needed the “prologue” to set the tone.

Each time I’ve participated has been very different, from Mystery to Horror, from an Apartment Building’s residents to Road Sign drabbles. I just let the creative juices flow.

A Car In The Woods, as stands right now, will be a serialized tale with some interludes. Kind of like last year’s The Abysmal Dollhouse, but, hopefully, a bit tighter. That’s my goal. We’ll see where it goes.

Comments/Feedback is always appreciated. Check out other blogs who are taking this April’s challenge by clicking on The Master List. You’ll find a variety of blogs that you might enjoy.

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Kismet: #FridayFictioneers

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sandras-loom

PHOTO PROMPT© Sandra Crook

KISMET

Dalia and Laima reclined in their cavernous office. FatesEnd, Inc. headquarters was vast. The need for state of the art looms rising. They both had glasses, sighed, and took a long sip of wine.

“Nona and Clothu feel we need another facility,” Dalia mentioned.

“I feared that,” Laima moaned. “Too many already.”

Reaching over, Dalia took Laima’s free hand in hers. “We can do it; you know that. They’ve grown. We’ve grown.”

Laima stood, walking to the window overlooking the looms. Dalia joined her.

The weaving and measuring machinery stretched for miles. They couldn’t see the cutting of the threads.

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Author’s Note: for those who know me, names, when I use them, have a meaning(s) to what I wrote. If you’re not familiar, please research. Learning something new is what I love to do.

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”- Macbeth, WS

the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden threads of the craftsman’s loom“- Howl, Alan Ginsberg.

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to join in:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

 

Glisten: #FridayFictioneers

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gold-tipped-anniversary-rose

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

GLISTEN

“You said you wouldn’t be here. I just want my things.”

Kírkē leaned against her bookcase, arms folded, staring.

“I don’t want a fight,” he said, putting items into the box he brought.

“Fine,” he continued, finding other odds and ends. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“Don’t. Just, don’t.”

Unfolding her arms, he saw she held a yellow rose.

“Really?” He sighed.

“Yes,” Kírkē said, gliding over. Placing the rose to his heart, she said her spell.

His scream was short lived as he was sucked into the petals. His essence sparkled.

It went into Kírkē’s Remembrance Vase, with the others.

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Author’s Note:

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to join in:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

When Nature Calls: #FridayFictioneers

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sandras-shells

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

When Nature Calls

Aphrodite and Helene were wiped out. The evening at Mont Olymopos Club was a success, both on the floor, dancing their tails off, and in the darkened alcoves doing…things.

Many times.

Upstairs in the restaurant, they had just finished an exquisite meal of Pan Seared Scallops with pureed turnips and shitake mushrooms, followed by warm Gaia Apple Pie topped with Dove ice cream. Wine flowed throughout.

Later, checking themselves out in the ladies room mirror, Helene asked: “Where’s next?”

“A descendant’s Science Fair project,” Aphrodite answered, fixing her makeup.

“Shells?”

“Shells, again. Sigh. But, afterward: RUM!”

“Party!”

They both smiled.

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It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

Waiting On My Man: #FridayFictioneers

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the-met-roger-b

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Waiting On My Man

Milling, milling, milling around. That’s all they do, day after day after day.

They pass me by while doing all those annoying things they do: ignore the screaming kids; scratch their butts; play grab ass; heads bowed, not in genuflection, but consumed by their new iGods; and kiss.

Damn, I miss kissing.

Hephaestus, you bástardos! I’ve been standing around for, oh, over 2,000 of these mortal years, waiting for your sorry ass to show up. ‘I’ll be right back, baby,’ you said. ‘Just wait right here, babe’,” you said. You said a lot of things and I. AM. STILL. WAITING!

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Author’s Note:

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time (and why do I want to sing that to the Howdy Doody theme song?), as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt.
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1.       Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other          bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

Waiting On My Man may not have an exact beginning, middle, and end, but…eh. I had to go look up who the statue whose back is to us in the pic. Lots of things to learn about Athena Parthenos, which led me to the question: if a statue got an itch, who would scratch it? That took me to the above drabble.

Hope you got a chuckle.