eyenot
in
beginnings
Challenge #55
Submitted by: eyenot
Challenge 55 - "I (he/she) wish I were about three inches taller."
Started: Dec. 20th, 2007, 5:29pm
Words/time: 500, 15 min.
Title: Too Bad!
"I wish I were about three inches taller," the little gnome complained.
"Ha-ha, you can't be, though, you can't!" The evil old man taunted and kicked at him, threatening to cover him up with his hands, something the gnome hated. The gnome cried and screamed and ran, ducking and evading and taking cover, but the evil old man always caught him and struck him.
"But I wish I was!" the gnome cried.
The old man picked the gnome up by his collar and popped him into a jar, closing it up with a large cork top.
"You have to put holes in it!" the gnome cried.
"No I don't! No I don't!" the man cackled, and set the jar on a shelf. The gnome was his, he was going to keep the gnome forever, dead or alive. There was nobody around to care if the gnome even existed, let alone if he suffocated it. Besides, he could always manifest another gnome if he wanted to.
The gnome batted his hands against the glass, but was unable to escape. He yelled and screamed to be let out, but noiselessly to the evil old man. The glass contained his cries except for a faint buzzing or murmur. The old man lay down in his bed, then looked up at the shelf for one more glimpse of the tortured little creature, and fell asleep cackling.
When he woke up, the gnome was dead, curled up on his side in the jar. The man opened the lid and his nose was assaulted by the worst smell ever, so he took the jar outside and left it open in the garden, hoping it would air out. It didn't, though, for several days, so he shut the lid on the jar again and buried it in the garden.
"Maybe it'll sprout something stupid," the old man wondered, upset that his gnome was so useless. Days later, he had forgotten about the gnome, when he awoke and found his garden dug up and jar missing. He felt like someone was watching him from the woods nearby.
He was awoken that night by a little imp sitting on his chest. "More gnome, sandwich-maker!" the imp cackled. The man jumped out of bed and the imp settled on the ceiling.
The old man, not taking his eyes from the tiny demon, reached for his cane and tried to stab the imp off the ceiling, so the imp sat on the man's head. "Make more gnome, bony old fish!" And the imp stabbed a fork through the man's skull. The evil old man screamed and batted at the imp, but it was already sitting on the shelf, licking the tines of the spear. "Gnome my favorite! Make more and I eat you quick!"
The old man ran for the door, but the imp threw a tiny fork at it and stuck it closed. The old man couldn't open it. He turned, back to the door, the imp floating toward him.
Challenge 55 - "I (he/she) wish I were about three inches taller."
Started: Dec. 20th, 2007, 5:29pm
Words/time: 500, 15 min.
Title: Too Bad!
"I wish I were about three inches taller," the little gnome complained.
"Ha-ha, you can't be, though, you can't!" The evil old man taunted and kicked at him, threatening to cover him up with his hands, something the gnome hated. The gnome cried and screamed and ran, ducking and evading and taking cover, but the evil old man always caught him and struck him.
"But I wish I was!" the gnome cried.
The old man picked the gnome up by his collar and popped him into a jar, closing it up with a large cork top.
"You have to put holes in it!" the gnome cried.
"No I don't! No I don't!" the man cackled, and set the jar on a shelf. The gnome was his, he was going to keep the gnome forever, dead or alive. There was nobody around to care if the gnome even existed, let alone if he suffocated it. Besides, he could always manifest another gnome if he wanted to.
The gnome batted his hands against the glass, but was unable to escape. He yelled and screamed to be let out, but noiselessly to the evil old man. The glass contained his cries except for a faint buzzing or murmur. The old man lay down in his bed, then looked up at the shelf for one more glimpse of the tortured little creature, and fell asleep cackling.
When he woke up, the gnome was dead, curled up on his side in the jar. The man opened the lid and his nose was assaulted by the worst smell ever, so he took the jar outside and left it open in the garden, hoping it would air out. It didn't, though, for several days, so he shut the lid on the jar again and buried it in the garden.
"Maybe it'll sprout something stupid," the old man wondered, upset that his gnome was so useless. Days later, he had forgotten about the gnome, when he awoke and found his garden dug up and jar missing. He felt like someone was watching him from the woods nearby.
He was awoken that night by a little imp sitting on his chest. "More gnome, sandwich-maker!" the imp cackled. The man jumped out of bed and the imp settled on the ceiling.
The old man, not taking his eyes from the tiny demon, reached for his cane and tried to stab the imp off the ceiling, so the imp sat on the man's head. "Make more gnome, bony old fish!" And the imp stabbed a fork through the man's skull. The evil old man screamed and batted at the imp, but it was already sitting on the shelf, licking the tines of the spear. "Gnome my favorite! Make more and I eat you quick!"
The old man ran for the door, but the imp threw a tiny fork at it and stuck it closed. The old man couldn't open it. He turned, back to the door, the imp floating toward him.