Posts Tagged ‘Perry McDaid’
Nov
The Inescapable Muse
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It was a perfect setting for a murder. The characters leapt to her mind’s eye: two brothers suavely lounging in the large padded oval back armchairs.
She pictured their wives, prim and dutifully attentive in the smaller twinned balloon backs.
Or perhaps she would mix it up to attract the increasing cohort of latter-day suffragettes and sympathizers who appeared to take umbrage at earlier novels.
Yes…she could almost see the dominant wife of one of the couples – American probably – claiming one of the larger chairs, her slightly effete husband relegated to the smaller.
But who would die?
Agatha scribbled.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Oct
Observations Of A Canadian Terrarium
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Opulence surrounds me – magically tinted daguerreotype of warped idyll – mahogany and cast iron impressing their hubris upon the carpet, much as the armies to the south are scorching their indelible brand of gunpowder and blood upon the land.
Lace and silk give room warmth once provided by the pulsing hearts of Toronto sons; now fighting south west of Vancouver over some San Juan Island potato-eating pig.
You’d think our neighbors would have had their fill of war by now; or at least be spilling blood and stale sweat over nobler offenses than that of one hungry porker and careless farmer.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Sep
Preserved
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
It floated in a four-foot cube glass case with runes etched into the gold frame and tiger’s eye gems set into all eight corners.
Connor found his gaze drawn to their chatoyant lustre and wondered if the sphere was only an optical illusion.
“It must be,” he verbalized. “There’s no such thing–”
“Ah, ah…unnatural,” the mage corrected. “You were never going to get this from nature.”
The image of Claudia moved inside the time-bubble. Connor watched his daughter smile: a welcome change from the burial mask.
“I’ll take it,” he said, smearing tears with the back of his hand.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Sep
No More Grant Wood
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Francis stared gawping at the bleak picture of a white house on a twilight prairie for at least a couple of minutes before breathing. Hattie linked arms with him and pressed close.
“Well, what do you think?”
Francis sighed a wordless soliloquy.
“Isn’t it wonderful? Look at the shading, the perspective, the detail.”
“I just finished that wallpapering.”
“Soot from the aromatic candles and sewing chalk.”
Francis frowned.
“All dangerous hobby stuff is locked away. Candles…top shelf.”
Francis confirmed the press was locked and tight against the wall before addressing his two-year old son.
“Grant, you’re one creepy-ass kid.”
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Sep
Dysfunction 3
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Some days you just can’t write,” he said aloud.
The citrus-scented candle was not impressed. The flame didn’t even react to his big sigh. It sat on the side table oozing atmosphere but no empathy.
“Oh yeah?” he snapped at it. “When you’re burnt out that’s the end of you. I prevail.”
Hiatus… Odd looks in his direction and muttered comments from bar patrons fused as he tried to blink his tired eyes clear. In the bright honey light, they became drones attending the queen behind the counter: alkaloid aromas their insectoid murmurs of my intrusion.
The page remained blank.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Aug
Overindulgence
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She was tired and had too much to drink. Her eyes drooped to provide the perfect screen for strange imaginings. Time passed.
Chloe jolted awake to a shift in the buzz of conversation, her vision presenting a weird split screen of a now empty hotel bar, a new day’s sun barging through the large windows and reflecting off each polished surface to sear through the fog in her brain: judgmentally bright.
Her clothes smelled of staleness and smoke. Stale vomit prowled the back of her throat.
Chloe waddled to the bathroom, suddenly aware of another need.
She’d open late today.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Jul
Budget Costs
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
The detective leaned back in the seat, stretched expansively and roared. “Lazy fucking bastards!”
There was a sudden flurry of papers being shuffled, phones being lifted, and desk drawers being opened and closed.
“Aggghhh, not you useless lot,” he growled. “Not this time anyway.”
“Who’s offended the mighty Sergeant Prick, this time?” an attractive female police officer drawled.
“That’s Pryck … like dyke.” She’d rebuffed his many advances.
She merely generated a smug smile…pausing it for greater effect.
“Hrrmph, thought I’d a break on the Couples Killer…but the council couldn’t be bothered cleaning the CCTV lenses.”
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Jul
Absent Samaritan
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He used the lamppost to drag himself to his feet, having groped for the muddy spectacles.
“Help,” he thought he called, clamping the damaged frame to his face to supplement the remaining arm. “I’ve been mugged.”
But he couldn’t have made a noise. Surely the trio who passed would have stopped if he had?
He steadied himself against pain and dizziness and tried to focus his remaining energy into a shout for aid.
He watched through smeared lenses as they faded into the rain: ghosts into oblivion.
He couldn’t be sure they’d heard.
The blood seemed the only irrefutable fact.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Jun
Reader’s Choice
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“What is essential in war is victory, not prolonged operations. Sun Tzu.”
“Eh?” Brett peered over the safety cage of the Ferris wheel, checking for progress.
Toni made to repeat herself. “What is–”
“I heard you. What the hell are you blabbering about?”
“Well, Sun Tzu was a philosopher–“
“Psychopath who fancied himself as a guru. Sure you want to be quoting him in our predicament? Not sure He’s a fan.” Brett pointed skyward.
“Tut, they’ll fix it. I’m just commenting on their taking their sweet time.”
There was a deafening grinding of metal.
There were screams from below.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid
Jun
Neglect
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Lichen and moss had made their home on the intricately carved headstone while a ravenous community of ivy sought to embrace it.
The man wondered who Charlotte was. All the superficial dedications were there, though the surname was hidden. Who had she been? Was there no family to visit and maintain the plot…or did they believe in allowing it to age as naturally as their progenitor?
He crouched and pulled back some of the thicker growth from the bottom.
“…leaving behind…”
He read the names. One was unusual, like Gran’s.
He brushed ivy aside.
The surname was his own.
From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid