Dash Alarm

“Thank you all for being here.  I’m excited to tell you about the opportunity,” the inventor said, giddy with the prospect of investors liking his idea.

“Tell us more about ‘Dash Alarm’,” requested the investor impatiently.

“Dash Alarm sends a signal from emergency vehicles to a flashing light inside cars.  Loud music? Wearing headphones? No worries. Dash Alarm will let you know.  Drivers have a better chance of reacting in time, we overcome sound ordinances, and emergency vehicles will be a little safer at high speeds.” the inventor explained.

The investors huddled for a moment allowing only faint whispers to be heard outside their circle.

“Interesting, but I don’t think people will pay attention to one more light in the cab.  How do you overcome that?” Another investor questioned.

“That’s where our upgraded version comes into play. ‘D@sh @larm.” The inventor said,  “With D@sh @larm, emergency vehicles will tweet drivers letting them know to move over. The driver will check their notifications almost immediately.”

“Now that’s innovation!  People are way more likely to look at their phones while driving than they are to take note of some silly dash board light,” the third investor said, pulling out a check book.

 

Mayor Reynolds’ Bad Day

“Mayor Reynolds, do you have a plan?” The reporter asked.

Mayor Aaron Reynolds looked down at his podium and wondered how to spin why not having a plan was a good thing.

“Folks, I won’t lie and say this is not a concerning issue.  Our town seems to be surrounded by hyper-intelligent alien creatures which resemble adorable rabbits.  Attempts to leave town have proven futile.  To top it off, we don’t know what they want,” the Mayor recapped.

“Have you tried to contact  neighboring villages for help?” Another reporter asked.

“And let them think we’re being held captive by cute bunnies? I think not.”

A murmur of agreement swept the press room.

“So to answer your question, Sarah, the plan is to provide carrots and Trix until things blow over, and avoid giving Parkersville any fodder for the tri-city summer games.  Understood?” The mayor looked over the assembled members of the press.  “Good. Dismissed.”

Story Written While Terribly Distracted on a Monday Night

“Your life is pretty great here, huh?” Asked the character who has never left town and fears change.

“Until I arrive, destroy your way of life and flee!” Said the incomprehensible evil.

“You must avenge us!” said the villagers who give spark to the quest. Continue reading

Wade at the End of the World

If a person could be defined by a sound, Wade could be defined as the rumble of an empty stomach.  People can’t be defined as sounds though, so they are left to be defined by their actions and words.  Wade was better defined as a hunter of prey that probably deserved a head start.

“Would you just stop so I can eat you!” Wade shouted at a very fast chicken. “Dinner for one, to go. Amirite?”

A laugh not his own sounded behind the rubble. At that moment, Wade was defined as the sound of screams on a roller coaster.

Frank’s First Day

via Pixabay

“Any body know what Frank is doing?” Arnie asked.  Frank was new to the flock and the area.  The adjustment was going poorly.

“He’s just acclimating,” Raj said, “he’ll be fine in a few days.  Sarah gave him the tour, Dave showed him the best food, Wendy filled out the on-boarding paperwork.  You remember your first day.”

“Yeah, but this seems…different.” Arnie said.  He and Arnie bounced to where the new guy stood. Continue reading

The Late Shift

“I am of the night. I am the night,” Dallin said to his reflection.

“Dallin, get out of the bathroom!” a friend shouted from the other side of the door.

Dallin huffed and lowered his head.  “I’ll just be a minute,” he called out.  With one last look in the mirror, one final affirmation, he was ready. Continue reading

Keyboard

“I keep hitting the keyboard, but nothing happens. I am finished. The words are ended. My story has come to an end,” Dirk said.  He ran a hand over his head and sighed.

“Dirk, I think I know how to solve your problem,” Jen said.  She sat opposite the frustrated writer and began pointing at Dirk’s desk.

Dirk paid no attention.  Dirk was a jerk.

“Oh you think writer’s block can just be solved? You think the art faucet can just be turned on and off all willy nilly? Like the process is akin to a monkey in a hat dancing with finger cymbals on a street corner?  I assure you this is actual work.” Dirk continued being terrible to his friend.

Jen stood up and pointed, with as great a force as could be managed for simply pointing at something, and reminded Dirk that his problem did have a solution.  “Dirk, your keyboard is a piano!”

Dirk looked down.  “I’m such an awful human,” he muttered.