Tempting Havoc

Some people do more than boil when they get mad, and children shouldn’t tempt them. Thanks for a random title suggestion from terribleminds.com, altered slightly to suit the temper of the narrator.

Tempting Havoc

My blood boils as I study the footprints, child–sized, that some brat has scratched in my newly–poured sidewalk; all that lovely smooth cement now pebbled and irregular, and… and…

(boiling)

(boiling)

… ruined.

“Calm yourself,” I tell myself. “You mustn’t.”

It’s true. The last time my blood boiled, when that kid — could be the same one! — hurled my newspaper into the neighbour’s garden —

(boiling, simmering, steaming)

— the last time I let it blow I levelled fourteen blocks. Fortunately it was mid–morning, mid–week, and most people were at work, at school, shopping. Hardly anyone got hurt. Just a few were killed.

• • •

Don’t these kids understand?

My name is Havoc.

Silenced by a Stroke

by wen.e.scott

A man suffers a terrible fate after he is silenced by a stroke.

The flash fiction below is based on two challenges: learn to empathize with characters by putting yourself in their experience, write a story about a man silenced by a stroke; and second, a challenge to write a story complete with beginning, middle and end, in three sentences.

I’ve lost the link for the challenge to develop empathy, but the second is a challenge from terribleminds.

The Story…

‘No, please no,’ he shouted, but no one heard.

The family huddled around his hospital bed, saying things like, ‘he’s had a good life,’ or ‘he’s vegetative, where’s the quality of life,’ and the medical team concurred.

‘Please, no,’ he cried, but the family and doctors huddled around the monitors as each machine shut down.