Posts by michelestrider@mastodon.social
(DIR) Post #B7fu0W4sB5LjSGj0LI by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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You wave your prize over your head -- a long, black umbrella -- taunting the crowd. Fewer react than you might've hoped. In fact, it's just one guy who keeps shouting, "My brolly, good sir! My brolly!" like some fancy Masterpiece Theater chap.Holding the 'brella like a lance, you charge at the scattered men, jousting hats off heads.Finally, someone yells, "Get 'em, boys!"You gallop off, followed by hatless men.You reach Lily and her trap: a well-disguised hole full of unspeakable things.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0WGDUuQK1S241Y by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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You accept that you're not riding Steve; Steve is carrying you. You release the reins. It's in Steve's... hands? now.You approach Lily's trap at a run. Steve leaps into the air like a four-legged, half-ton ballet dancer.Halfway through his arch, you realize why you shouldn't have dropped the reins.You fall into the hole of unspeakable things. Bank boys tumble on top of you.Using the umbrella, you battle your way out.You search for Lily and Steve, but don't see them -- only angry Banks.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0WSckmLedvpyMa by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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You jog your sloppy way back to the farmhouse, hoping to learn how you, too, can have less HOA interference in your life.You're surprised no lights pop on as you step onto the porch. You wave at the doorbell camera, but there isn't one. There's not even a doorbell. You knock on the solid wood door. Antique. So hip.You admire the oil lamp in the window as you wait for someone to answer.From deep inside, a voice yells, "Come in." You push the heavy door open and enter. There's no one there.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0Wdy4bQFD7922q by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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You follow the voice down a long hallway. Saving electricity is laudable, but this is extreme. You truly cannot see your hand in front of your face. You trail your fingers along the wall to stay oriented.The voice never grows louder. Or softer. It must be some fancy whole-house PA system.The hall dead-ends. You feel a doorknob in front of you. And one to each side. You look over your shoulder, the way you came. The only light is a small dot impossibly far away."Come in," repeats the voice.
(DIR) Post #B7qHJKT9nnj1Tscew4 by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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After a quick eeny-meeny-miny-moe, you open the door in front of you. The voice beckons. You enter.There's a creaky sound, like one of those big wooden rocking chairs on the Cracker Barrel porch. Are those a thing now? You haven't seen the latest Wayfair catalog, given all of your new mindfulness and anti-materialism."Come closer," says the voice.Closer to where, you aren't sure. You take a step forward. A match flares. An ancient woman lights a corncob pipe."Why are you here?" she asks.
(DIR) Post #B7qHJKhKx54GBrFz2O by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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"I want to talk to you about the HOA.""Aitcho Way?" the old lady scoffs. "What's that?""H-O-A. The community organization...""Like The Grange?""La Grange? No, that's 'how, how, how.'""Right. How come you're here?""To ask how you got away with breaking the bylaws.""I ain't broke no laws," she spits."I mean, how did you skirt the CC&Rs?""What about my skirt? Quit yer foolin' and tell me what yer here for: potions, fortune-telling, moonshine, or jerky? Cuz that's what I got."
(DIR) Post #B7qHJKvs52h4uw3agy by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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"Fortune-telling," you decide.The old lady lights the lamp on the table next to her. "Set yerself down."You sit. The hardwood floor could be smoother. They may have taken the rustic thing too far."Drink," she gives you a china cup of swampy tea. You drink and hand it back. She holds it to the light to read the leaves."Says you struggle with decisions; yer never 100%. Avoid gamblers, clowns, and Geminis. Drink more water. Yer lucky number is 7. That'll be a dollar. I take coin and scrip."
(DIR) Post #B7qHJL7vMEKpWJhDTk by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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You hand the woman a crisp dollar bill, marveling at the low, low price."What the hell is that?" She refuses to touch it."A dollar." You shake your head. Digital payment systems have rotted people's brains."Ain't no dollar I ever seen. Dollars are round, got a fancy lady on 'em, and -- most important -- they're made o' silver. Now, gimme my money.""Sorry, this is all I've got.""Well, I guess you got a choice to make," the lady decides. "Either you work it off, or I call the sheriff."
(DIR) Post #B7qHJLOaMHf8LzUWRs by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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"I'm happy to work it off," you tell the old woman, thinking you might sweep the front porch or take her garbage cans down to the street. "Whatever you think is fair.""Well, wages in this town are a dollar a day," she begins. You didn't realize the local economy had gotten so bad. "But cuz I like yer hat...It is very flattering."I'll only make you do one chore. Now, you better at scrubbing floors, choppin' wood, washin' clothes, or muckin' out barns? Pick one and get 'er done by daylight."
(DIR) Post #B7xo1GJbvkCcEv8IqG by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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I know y'all don't love the big river site, but if you download my free angry-young-man novel today, it actually costs ol' Jeff a tiny bit of money.https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0982GVK8N
(DIR) Post #B88q5Qak0CsPusop8q by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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Free books, y'all!I didn't write them, but I did read them. They are a certified hoot and perfect for summer. https://www.smashwords.com/books/byseries/96695
(DIR) Post #B8B4sOsmvqQkTqQTkO by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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My cat drives me crazy 23 of 24 hours a day, and the thing that bothers me most about her is that she won't live forever.
(DIR) Post #B8D52vTR0DnyluVQpM by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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Deferring to Steve's superior competence, you watch to see how he handles the situation.He nods to Sarah (you finally asked), and both horses rear up, scattering the torch boys. The Banks are not as brave as they are loud. Several drop their flamey sticks and flee. The remaining ones seem less motivated than before and slowly wander off.Horses, of course, are very big. And torch boys are squishy.You and Lily splash out of the pond. The moon is high in the clear sky, the night air bracing.
(DIR) Post #B8D52vf8IjA9MBym3s by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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"These horses deserve a treat," you tell Lily. "What do they like? Cake?""We can take 'em to the Bank's apples. Let 'em go plum wild," Lily laughs.You ride through the fields, past a barn and pumpkin patch, into a well-kept orchard. You let the horses loose to eat their fill. You and Lily sit under a tree, bonfire light glowing in the distance. A bat circles above, as if watching you.The wind picks up, the temperature drops. Clouds gather. Thunder mumbles on the horizon. A storm's brewing.
(DIR) Post #B8D52vsxTKDo34Robw by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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You, Lily, and the horses run to the barn just ahead of the storm. Rain pelts the roof. Boards creak and sigh. The warm scent of hay envelopes you. It's cozy and incredibly dark. You turn on your phone flashlight, noting the low battery level.You explore carefully, trying not to reenact the "stepping on a rake" gag.You're surrounded by stores of apples and pumpkins. A wooden ladder leads to the hayloft. Empty horse stalls hold piles of fresh hay. Bats roost in the rafters. There's a chicken.
(DIR) Post #B8D52w64gYiIhkaI3U by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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You've never met a live chicken in person. (The HOA has strict rules against yardbirds.) You're a little star-struck.You don't know what sound to make to entice a bird, so you go with, "Here, birdie." That suffices. Soon, you're petting a tiny feathered head and loving it."We've got the place surrounded," a voice shouts outside the barn door. "Come out with your hands up."You peek through a crack in the boards. It's the Bank Boys. And they've brought the law -- The Homeowners Association.
(DIR) Post #B8D52wI7xkM3J8DuqG by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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"Is there a back door?" you ask Lily.There's a fluttering noise as the roosting bats descend in a flurry of leather wings. You blink and are surrounded by the most wholesome plaid-clad people you've ever seen."Who...?" you ask."That's not important," a ruddy older man dismisses the question, thumbs hooked in his overall straps. "We'll distract 'em. You run."The bats engage the HOA goons. You look back to see much flailing and squealing as you, Lily, and the horses escape into the night.
(DIR) Post #B8D52wTpGFiDtPhG4m by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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"Well," you say, watching the frenzy, "I could eat." There are nods all around.You make it back to your house without incident and park the horses in the garage with some fresh hay and a pumpkin to share.You're surprised to find the house already full of folksy plaid bat people, but they're serving apple pie and cider, so...You greet your guests and hang your cowboy hat on a doorknob. If you knew you were hosting a party, you'd have tidied up.You join Lily in the kitchen for pie and:
(DIR) Post #B8D52wfAa4moSb0Jl2 by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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You sip the house special cider. It's thick, almost syrupy. In fact, it's the best thing you've ever tasted. And it's cool to watch your fingernails grow like that.You turn your attention to the pie. It's amazing. You shred the crust like a wood chipper."Howdy," Mr. Overalls approaches you, smiling. His teeth are surprisingly sharp. "Purty strong cider, eh?"A pumpkin sitting on the counter starts humming a soft tune."Like apple pickin'?" Overalls asks.Lily sighs, "Not again."The End?
(DIR) Post #B8JO3TV18YERbYXq88 by michelestrider@mastodon.social
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To whom do I speak about making this face a US postage stamp? #CatsOfMastodon