There was a lot going on in the office that day. Jill from accounting was celebrating her 33rd birthday, Gary from sales had just gotten a promotion that nearly doubled his salary, and Bob in marketing had just learned his wife Sherry was pregnant with twins. Everyone was talking, laughing, making Plans. Curtis, sitting alone in his miniscule cubicle, staring at a blank screen that refused to populate with the data his boss wanted by that afternoon, hated them.
How in the world was he supposed to get the likelyhood of raptor attacks, if the company that was supposed to send them had been overrun a week ago?! But still, his boss wanted that data. Animal control insurance certainly became a lot more diverse after the Great Dinosaur Resurgance of 2045. That was twenty years ago, and now, only five years from retirement, his boss stuck him in the most unpredictable division.
I would punch that dinosaur in the face twenty years ago if I was around back then. but what ever, it would of hav eatan me any way. so how was the since exam? it was fine.
He sat watching the throbber on his screen go around and around, his head in his hands, and found himself thinking of Jill. There was going to be cake, later. He could stop by for a slice, start up a conversation about risk tables and policy pricing, maybe even go for an accounting joke.
Blond hair, blue eyes, and still had all of her teeth. She was way out of his league.
Curtis turned to his monitor, plotting the likely movements of the rapcieeur(?) Cretacious hordes over the once-urban landscape. The generation had held for years now, but the silent dread was palpable. Everyone knew that the day would come when they would no longer propel their negatively-charged offspring through the copper-wire ether. Some had stopped fighting, embracing their demise at the Mesozoic jaws.
Others, however, insisted upon holding out for as long as possible. Even when that meant using up precious generator power to run useless database queries that didn't work correctly. Curtis decided to thumb through his contracts to find out more about the company that had previously been sending the statistical data. If he was lucky there'd be a contact phone number that still worked, or at least a recorded message saying who to call.
After several long minutes, he finally found the information he had been after, or at least, where the information had once been before. The company name and phone numbers had all been hastily scratched out by someone before him, and beside it that someone had written the words "This company no longer exists. They razed it. They razed it to the ground." Somehow, Curtis wasn't surprised to find this note didn't even alarm him.
The timing was bad. Having just read of the demise of their sister company, the effect of the scream somewhere down the hall far exceeded it's sonic impact. The succeeding screams indicated the first rush of panic was justified though. Curtis rushed to shut and lock his door. The nightmare vision out in the hall told him it was only a holding action.
"Where's your assignment", he suddenly imagined his boss asking.
The raptor ate it, along with cake, he imagined replying.
Curtis sat down and began typing. He ignored the sounds of claws against the door in front of him. With a sigh, he read his final line of his final report.
"Chance of raptor attack appraoching 100%."
With a crash, the door gave way.
Written by Cara L., Val O., M.L., Merf, Stu B., Amelia O., Nic L., Don C., Chris O.
Written by Chris O., Cara L., Val O., M.L., Merf, Stu B., Amelia O., Nic L., Don C.
The night was icy cold. Karl was miserable. He'd let everyone down again. The Inn had burned down. He had burned it down. Just because Max wanted to sit in the tap room. He was supposed to be the one who was in control. He was sure Isabel hated him now.
Written by Don C., Chris O., Cara L., Val O., M.L., Merf, Stu B., Amelia O., Nic L.
The rustic trail ran along the RiverShore, maintaining the same meandering twists and turns as the shoreline. A light mist hung over the water, except for the places where the morning sun was reaching the water, and burning the mist away. The hike was refreshing, or it would have been if I wasn't so upset about the events of a few minutes ago. How could such an innocent question lead to such an argument.
Written by Nic L., Don C., Chris O., Cara L., Val O., M.L., Merf, Stu B., Amelia O.
The Kid ran down the street. Their shoes splashed noisily in the puddles left over from the momentary torrent of ten minutes ago. The urge to glance over their shoulder was strong, but the Kid managed to ignore it, instead putting their head down and running faster. Behind them, the sound of screeching tires let them know they'd been found, and deftly they dodged into the nearest alleyway. They stopped short and their heart dropped at the sight in front of them.
Written by Amelia O., Nic L., Don C., Chris O., Cara L., Val O., M.L., Merf, Stu B.
The rain fell in warm, misty waves as Geraldine disembarked from the commuter train in Riviera Beach. An hour north from the station in Miami, and here she was in what might as well have been another universe. The station was tucked away next to an industrial plant with a long driveway leading out to the main road.
Written by Stu B., Amelia O., Nic L., Don C., Chris O., Cara L., Val O., M.L., Merf
The noble centaur surveyed the Grecian landscape with studious detatchment. It had been 14 days since the last descent of the beautiful moon goddess to the earth. 14 days of peace upon the land. 14 days since the end of the catastrophes marring the country since time immemorial. Would this be the dawn of a new age, or just a respite from the chaos spanning eons?
Written by Merf, Stu B., Amelia O., Nic L., Don C., Chris O., Cara L., Val O., M.L.
“What is that?” Kaitlyn asked, gasping wide-eyed at the machine floating a couple of feet off the floor. It looked like pictures she had seen of motorcycles, but it had no wheels. It's engine roared quietly with a thrum of power and she could see the heat trails coming out of exhaust ports on the sides and bottom.
Written by M.L., Merf, Stu B., Amelia O., Nic L., Don C., Chris O., Cara L., Val O.
Rily was doing her homework. She thoute: this is hard work doss it even matter if I do this or not. I need a vacan! three houers later.
Written by Val O., M.L., Merf, Stu B., Amelia O., Nic L., Don C., Chris O., Cara L.
“I can't keep this up.” That was the last coherent thought running through her head. All that was left was the adrenaline fuled haze attempting to survive. She looked back, futilly hopeful, but no, they were still following. The glowing read eyes gained even as she watched. Why me Aaaaaaaaa!!!! to my kowlege this is hard blowing in my face. It's going to be a Long day.
One of the things our group likes to do, but doesn't do often enough, is called a Round-Owl. It is essentially a round-robin writing exercise. The rules are simple. Everyone starts writing a story. After a preset amount of time, everyone passes their paper to the next person. That next person continues the story and then passes it on. This continues until everyone has written a part of each story. The last person in the round finishes the story in any way that they can.
Our first NaNoPrepMo session was a basics type session. We went over rules, basic tools to use, our plans for NaNoWriMo this year, and opened the floor to questions. Most of this information can either be found in the NaNo-site's FAQ (for rules and information) or our forum's calendar (for set plans). We followed that with a Round-Owl. Nine of our members participated, thus producing nine short stories. Each participant agreed to allow the stories to be posted to this blog. Each burst of writing lasted for only five minutes.
The next nine posts will be those short stories. They were all written quickly, with little to no forethought or editing. Each story is here with all spelling, grammar, and punctuation mistakes intact. These were also written by hand, and so there are places where question marks indicate uncertainty about what was written. Any comments to clarify those areas would be appreciated.