Victuallage

            The hen house, painted a bright red with white trim several decades ago, was peeling to reveal it’s rusted nails and dirt brown interior. One would think that it wouldn’t be able to hold any food source, since its decaying body was withering away to termite dust by the week, but somehow the Vindell’s had managed to store enough supplies and food to keep from starving in case the world went to shit.

            It wasn’t like they were expecting anything drastic to happen, it had started off as a school project for Mindy, the youngest daughter. She needed to save up as much canned goods as possible for a school fundraiser, the child who donated the most would receive free lunch for six months. That was enough money to buy two cases of candy bars, something Mindy had an addiction to.

            After the hen house had been packed to the brim, the family realized that they could dig under the hen house to save more food, which, after awhile, the realized they could dig a tunnel from the basement to the hen house and make a sort of make-shift tunnel system. Steven, the father, was a contractor who was on the verge of being let go from work, so the idea of building something helped him take his mind off of the threat of being sent back out to the ocean to swim around in hopes of finding a new reef.

            Once word reached the town that the Vindell’s were building something underground, the Vindell’s were marked as weirdoes. Doomsday Prepers, and religious wackjobs were two of the things that the Vindell’s heard spoken of them behind their backs when they went through town, but that didn’t stop them from storing as much food as they could for Mindy, who every once in awhile would tell her parents that they could stop saving if people were going to make fun of them for it. At this, her parents told her that this was just a part of life that she should face now, instead of later, so that she would be prepared to face it head on when they were no longer around.

            None of this mattered however, because a tornado hit, striking the town in a whir and flash that left the whole town homeless and without food. Body counts rose as soon as a scrap of wood was lifted, or a car pulled from a field.

            Luckily, the small shaft the Vindell’s had created had saved their lives, as well as stored some food and supplies, which they had shared with the town survivors who had once criticized them.

Challenge #68

The challenge for this week is to write a story based off of the letter V. You may integrate tons of words with  this letter into your story, or focus your story on a word that starts with this letter.

If you would like to join us for the challenge by submitting your own short stories, poems, or art, please do! Just e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com so that we may showcase your work for Fan Friday!

See you all on Wednesday!

Underneath

Underneath

They told me to never ever go to that bridge. Something evil lived beneath it and no one ever goes there. But like a moth drawn to the flame I was drawn to all things off limits. It is said that the devil himself lives underneath that bridge. Maybe that’s why Susan Gambles jumped off last year, cracking open her skull. Of course she hasn’t been the only one, there’s been many more. The bridge’s name is Saint Joseph’s Bridge, but everyone I know calls it the Suicide Bridge. I myself am not suicidal, nor have I ever been. But today I was going to find out why so many people before me had found the urge to jump.
                I knew that it might be a stupid idea going there by myself, but I had to take the risk. The thought of not knowing would drive me insane; it’s just the way I work. The bridge was down and old dirt road and I drove until my car couldn’t take it anymore. Reaching the halfway point I park my car and walk the rest of the way. The bridge is tall, with no water beneath it. Its dark underneath like a shadow permanently resides there. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a quick moment and prayed to any god that would listen and then I walked up to it. Everything was quiet around it, as if every animal was scared to even live near it. I walked up the same place where so many had taken their lives.
                When I look over the old railing I’m shocked with what I see. Underneath there is a river that was never there before, a river flowing with bright blue water. The water glimmers in the sunlight and I can see something beneath the water itself. I step over the railing onto the other side trying to get a better look. People are swimming underneath the water and they look so peaceful. When they see me, they beckon me to join them. My eyes go wide staring at that water and an impulse rushes through my body. I have the overwhelming urge to jump in the river. I try to hold onto the railing tighter, resisting the urge. Down below the people swimming keep beckoning me and I can even hear their voices.
“Join us! The water is perfect! It’s so nice down here.” They keep yelling up at me. Continuous voices that don’t rest, they just keep calling out to me. My foot hangs in the air and all I want to do is fall forward and feel that cool water on my skin. Then I see Susan swimming amongst the others. Her smile falters for a second when she sees me. She gives the tiniest shake of the head, telling me not to jump. I try to climb back onto the bridge, but my foot slips and I plunge down. The water is not cold, but a deep burning that boils my skin. I now know that beneath the bridge lives a portal to hell. 

Unarguably

Una Gonzalez, one of the most normal girls in the world, had my heart. Brown straight hair with natural honey highlights and brown eyes that reminded me of dark coffee, I couldn’t help but wonder what was so special about her. She was five foot seven inches, and average weight, nothing special, just average.

            She works in Petco, selling animal supplies and that’s where I first met her. She seemed so interested in me, and what she sold, and she seemed to love her job. I was buying cat food for my sister while she was picking up her daughters from elementary school. It was a generic conversation with bits of imaginative foreplay intertwined to keep me from realizing she was just another drone trying to sell me things I didn’t need.

            I left that store with mediocre cat food and an urge to come back to the Free Adoption Day event, just so that I might have a chance to see her again. Make more of a conversation with her that had more to do with my life and not my sister’s cat’s dietary habits. It wasn’t just that I wanted to show my ex that I had a life outside of my sister’s life, it was something else. Something that made me want to keep talking to her because there was something about her.

            The next time I saw Una was at the grocery store. She was trudging along the frozen food isle, shoving the grocery cart along as if she were Sisyphus, rolling the rock up the hill for the first time. Well, if Sisyphus was a bored girl. Una’s eyes were blank as she glanced at food in the freezers, and I wondered what would be a good, non-sketchy way to make a conversation with her.

            Let’s just say that the conversation started with an awkward tap on the shoulder, and ended with a weird handshake wave dance that had left me so shell shocked that as I put my food on the shelf for the cashier to scan, I had been grasping at air and placing nothing on the conveyor belt for a few moments before the kid behind me asked if I was okay. I knew it wasn’t her, she was no Angelina Jolie and there was nothing about her that struck me as gold, but I knew it wasn’t me either. I had been around the block before, I had wooed ladies and gotten numbers just because I could. But there was something about Una that made me feel like she was my first conquest, and I couldn’t explain why.

            So, on the Adoption Day event, I went and had a whole plan laid out on how I would be smooth and I knew I would find out why she made me so weird whenever I saw her. I’d find out why I wanted to see her after already seeing her. I had only seen her twice, but both times I had wanted to run back in and have a do-over so that I could ask her out on a date.

            Walking in, I found her first. My heart was beating so quickly that I felt like a criminal on the run and hiding from the cops. She was smiling and petting a Doberman that was missing a leg. I wondered if she would think I was sweet if I adopted it, but shook that thought from my mind. There had to be a reason I was so wound up over her even though she was so ordinary.

            Nothing went as planned. As soon as Una saw me, she gave me this ‘Oh geez, not him’ look and brushed it off with a sparkling smile. I stuttered, tripped, and fell over my words and inquiries. She nodded, replied, and excused herself gracefully to go and assist other customers. I felt like an idiot and left with a bag of dog treats without a second look back.

            That night, a few of my high school friends went to a bar and reminisced while checking out some girls that might give us a night of short bliss and escape. And then I saw her. And I remembered. Una Gonzalez. Seven years ago, when I was on my senior ditch day to Lake Tahoe we had met under the stars at a bon fire party. She had had her hair up with some curled tendrils framing her face. Dark eye liner and red lipstick, a red skirt that bloomed when she twirled and a black tank top that showed off a fairly new tattoo of Icarus falling from the sky. We had danced, kissed, and she was anything but normal that night.

            That night, at the bar, I realized why I had been such an idiot in front of her. She was the one that got away. I had lost her phone number somewhere in my car and had been so upset over it that I forgot about my last four essay assignments. Thankfully, two of my friends reminded me about them the day before they were all due, so I was able to get it all done. But still, she had messed me up.

            Her eyes met mine between the arms, shoulders, and necks of fellow bar patrons and I suddenly felt calm. I felt strong and I didn’t feel like my heart would pound out of my chest. Her eyes fluttered like butterfly wings in slow motion as I stared at her and realized that I was unarguably, undeniably in love with her.

Challenge #67

The challenge for this week is to write a story based off of the letter U. You may integrate tons of words with  this letter into your story, or focus your story on a word that starts with this letter.

If you would like to join us for the challenge by submitting your own short stories, poems, or art, please do! Just e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com so that we may showcase your work for Fan Friday!

See you all on Wednesday!

Taster

My job is simple. It is to eat and survive, or eat and die. Life or death, it’s all left up to who prepared the food, who handled it, who wants my lord dead. I know I do.

Handsome, well-bred, rich, powerful, cruel, sinister, manipulative, these are all words that describe him. Before becoming a taster, I had been one of the girls in his harem. I was demoted to this position after accidently sleeping in instead of rising early for his morning massage. Before being a part of his harem, I had been sales clerk at Best Buy. Yeah. I got to this point by walking home drunk early in the morning when the sky was still dark in Amsterdam.

I’d give anything to be back at my old job, telling a seventy-nine year-old woman for the tenth time how to work a 3-D printer. But hey, at least I never had to sleep with my lord. He was actually pissed off when I was brought to him. Something about wanting them to have bought someone for the kitchens, not some drugged up new whore. He was so angry, I got off free that night. Apparently there are no refunds at illegal slave markets.

And now, here I was, sitting at his left waiting for the food to be served so that I can see if today is my day to die from poisoned food. I’m kinda hoping that it is.

“You know how much of everything to eat, correct?” My lord asks me. This is the first time he has actually spoken to me, so I looked at him with eyes as wide as a startled dog’s. I nod my head slowly, not sure if I’m even allowed to speak. “Good. Some girls eat too little, and some girls eat too much. I’d have a male do this, but they are much harder to control. They also get sold much more quickly by torturers.”

I’d heard of torturers. One of the people who had been in charge of watching over a few girls, myself included, had been talking about the different types of people who shop at the market, I was glad I wasn’t sold to a torturer.

“After a full year of taste testing my food, we will have someone else do it, and you will be sent back to the harem. Understood?” I nodded again, really hoping that I wouldn’t make it the whole year.

The food was served, hot on white plates with teal flowers scrawled on the edges. The lord’s voice sounded like it was Australian, or Scottish, something around those parts. If I could hear him speak for more than ten seconds at a time, I would probably be able to place it, especially if I was able to ask where he was from, or where we were. But those questions were against the rules. So when I saw the food, I really wished I knew where we were. One plate had some sort of meat dish, another with some weird green soup looking thing, and the final one had these odd caramel covered chocolate scone things.

Looking at the food like it had come from another planet infested with live jello blobs, I tentatively took a fork and pierced each edible treat they had prepared for my lord. They were each interesting, and if I had been with friends, it would have been a great thing to share and laugh about. After each bite, they asked me how it tasted, and I had to describe it. When I tried to describe the green thing, my lord laughed under his breath and covered his smirk with his hand. Until I mentioned that it tasted a little too sweet.

He looked at me how I had looked at him when he spoke to me. All shocked dog. My eyes grew a little hazy, I could feel my eyes wanting to droop, and my throat felt like it was shutting. I didn’t really try to fight it either, it felt terrifying and comforting at the same time. This is what death felt like.

I woke up to a white room and a light beeping noise. I knew what that noise was, it was the same noise I heard when I was in the hospital, listening to my mother’s heart beat as she slipped away.

One day down, three-hundred and sixty some-odd more to go.

Tea

"In the morning when I wake,
and the sun is coming through

Oh you fill my lungs with sweetness

and you fill my head with you."

Audrey hummed to herself as she put the kettle on the stove. A cool spring breeze blew through the window rustling her silk robe. It was sunset on a Sunday evening, a perfect time for relaxation. Audrey kept humming all the way to the bathroom where she got everything ready for her bath.
Tea light candles were lined up along the bathtub and in the corner sat scented bath salts. She turned on the old faucet and let the hot water fill up the big white tub. She took a deep breath and smiled, excited for the serenity that awaited her. Her humming now turned to a low singing as she lightly danced back into the kitchen. Her black cat Max Minx purred up at her, twisting his tale around her bare legs. She laughed at how it tickled the back of her knees.
                The kettle whistled loudly and Audrey grabbed it off the stove and poured herself a big cup of tea. The scent of mint wafted into her nostrils making her sigh with delight. She kept singing all the way back to the bathroom where the bathtub was almost full. Audrey set her tea cup down in the corner before turning off the old faucet. Her little house was quiet, but for the sound of the great clock ticking in the hallway. Max walked into the bathroom and meowed up at Audrey. “Yes, I think we need some music to fill the air, don’t you think so Max?” She asked the cat. He meowed up at her again.
“Alright then, but what to play?” She asked. Audrey stood in the middle of her bathroom pondering and pondering what music she wanted to play. There was French songstress, the newer stuff on her ipod, the radio. But then she remembered something even better. “Ah-ha!” She announced before running out of the bathroom and into the living room. There in the corner sat an old record player. She grabbed her favorite old record that had lots of old piano ballads and put it on. The music filled her whole house and she smiled, dancing all the way back to the bathroom as if she were a ballerina.
                Audrey slipped off her white silk robe and hung it behind the door. She sighed in content as she stepped into the warm bath. The warm water kissed her skin as she slid deeper and a feeling of ecstasy overcame her. Closing her eyes she sat for a moment enjoying the music and the bath and the smell of mint tea in the corner. It was an amazing feeling that she wished could last forever. She grabbed her tea from the corner and took a sip. It was the perfect temperature and it tasted like perfection.
“This is the definition of relaxation.” She thought to herself. She lay there enjoying the harmony and peace she felt, when his face crossed her mind. She couldn’t help but think of him especially in peaceful moments such as these. Her heart swelled just thinking of him. She smiled to herself thinking of the time when he showed up in the rain with flowers and she made him a warm cup of tea. That night they kissed and she knew she was in love. It was an old memory from when they first started to see each other, but it was one of her favorites. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her and she sighed as she looked down at the ring on her finger, and thought of the many memories that they would make together.