Any takers? Can you do an entry using these parameters?
Begin the story in bed. End the story in bed.
A meal must be eaten at some point in the story.
Come back and link your piece here so we all can enjoy.
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16 comments:
Somebody ate crackers in bed.
There was a murder.
THE END
The sun woke me abruptly, rousing me from the comfort of my bed. Gathering the sheets around me, I waddled in my makeshift toga to the fridge. I picked at the succulent strawberries, opting to dip them in some creamy smooth peanut butter. So savory, sweet...each bite melting in my mouth. I ate with ravenous indulgence, as though this would be the last meal I would ever eat. Suddenly, my gums began to itch. My lips swelled, big and pillowy like Angelina Jolie after collagen. My throat began to tingle and become parched and dry, slowly closing itself off. Breath was labored and the room got dark. I stumbled to the phone and dialed 911, but was unable to speak. The phone dropped to the floor shortly before I did.
When I awoke, I was in a hospital bed, wondering why I would have eaten the two things I am the most allergic to. Had I been sleepwalking? There was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on my bedside table.
I rolled over and went back to sleep.
CP.
Flash fiction. There ya go! *L*
hearts and cp,
You guys are brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!
Here you go:
http://amflanagan.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-100th-post.html
CP's story was quite an ironic satire.
BTW - those marketers are usually a hit and run and seldom are seen again.
Theorizing that one could time-travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett stepped into the Quantum Leap Accelerator, and vanished. He awoke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an observer from his own time, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. And so Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that his next leap…will be the leap home.
One morning, Sam woke up next to Maggie May, who promptly kicked him in the head. Before he knew it, he had leaped again, into a load of what he could only call hooey.
Al was excited to see the man in the Waiting Room. This would be a leap come true! He appeared to Sam with the news. The Lone Star had aligned itself this time. Sam leaped there after a last meal. It wasn't like Sam to abandon someone in pain, but he had to complete his mission. He leaped back, and then leaped out for good.
And in the White House, on Thursday, Ann Richards awakened, knowing it had not been, and yet it was, her time.
The dog pushed me out of bed. I crawled back in and pushed his ass out. Where'd my toast go?
The end (and a true story for this morning).
lex,
Happy 100th post - I love the way you were able to celebrate the count and still follow the experiment. E'rybody - go read Lexi! (link above)
c,
I got all excited with my responses and 4 were 'bots - I got pissed.
~macarena,
I loved that show! Great stuff!
christina,
Funny as hell!...and true.
winters,
You are a sweetheart for using that name. Oh - what are winters and trumpitt doing while this happens?
In bed, I noticed crumbs near the midsection of where I usually sleep. It itched me something terrible. I had no clue to what it was, or how it got there, until I remembered the night I stayed up late watching Jay Leno, eating a turkey sandwich I made. I was PMSing, and had the munchies.
I realized I had to change the sheets and vacuum a little. Later on, I was glad I did… A friend came over, and well, we ended up…in bed.
peanut butter on strawberries? that girl needs her meds back.
Mine would go something like this:
I got up because the idiot and her kid were running the squeaky dryer at 6 am. I peed, fed the cats, had coffee and a cinnamon roll.
I think about doing something involving housework, decide against it and comment on people's blogs instead.
I sit there until Judge Judy comes on. I watch her, 6 episodes of law and order and eat popcorn or something.
Rachel will probably call. I'll talk to her.
I go to bed.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
I used to be a lot more funner.
Thanks, Jali. How do you pronounce that?
It occurred to me this morning that non-Leapers might not know what the hell is up with the Waiting Room.
My bladder awakened me; I wish it could tell time, but since this had been happening to me quite regularly, I'm beginning to think otherwise. I sat up, pulled out my legs from my soft, warm sheets, and robotically headed for the toilet.
Four minutes later, half of which was spent urinating, I was sitting on the edge of my bed again. Beyond the trees and buildings, the backdrop of rich eggplant purple that I walked away from was disappearing to a dark lavendar.
My blurry eyes tried to look at one, then the other digital sign of time.
4:29.
Next to the clock were an empty yogurt cup and my 16-ounce mug that had the remnants of my awakening. I'm not bitter. Yet.
Though awake, my body felt like lying down. My mind thought about doing some crazy stuff like catch up on my reading or homework. My legs straightened and slid supine under the slightly warmed bed covers. I actually thought that I should reconsider what my body was doing--going for a walk would be great and besides, you have to go to class in three hours; why do the re-sleep thing--when my right arm defied my brain by covering my legs and the lower part of my torso.
As my upper back hit the pillow, my mind, torn yet comforted, succumbed to what my body had already decided. My eyelids made the final decision after the rest of my body shrugged under the covers.
My last thought of that hour, now gone forever, was that I'll take a walk. Tomorrow. After my bladder wakes me up. At 4:29.
The king awoke in his huge bed, too huge even for him, which was very rare these days as he seemed to resemble a large creature from the deep that required all that lard to keep him alive at extreme depths. He still had the tight fitting jumpsuit on that had amazingly gone down a storm once more in front of last nights packed house.
He had been asleep for the full 12 hours, the king needed at least 12 hours a day, and about another 8 at night these days. The one thing he loved more than his sleep was his fine cuisine; he had to sort this out right now, the legend needed refuelling immediately like the giant 4 x 4 gas guzzler he was. After about half an hour he had managed to reach the phone, “hey mam, get me a dozen cheeseburgers, a couple of them banana and peanut butter sandwiches and some scarves and water”…..he didn’t wait for a reply down the line, he couldn’t hold the phone up long enough, but they had the message, and he’d earned his place on this earth already, the king had spoken, and they would be there with his order in 5.
After devouring the fine meal that was his staple diet, the king sat for a moment and thought about what he should do this fine day (well, it looked fine as the he could see sunlight creeping through the gap in the curtain). He thought he could go for a drive with his huge entourage; eat at his favourite restaurant, pick up some ladies and sing them a song in the back of the limo. Then again, it was a fine day for another little nap, the digesting had once again stolen his energy, he laid back once again and dreamt of Memphis.
Miss Ann is still fun. She is a virtual entertainment center.
CP.
Just sayin'.
Normally, i don't do requests. No, really. But, just this once...
http://mustgethobby.blogspot.com/2006/09/in-bed-with-little-man.html
~deb,
Glad sheets were changed and that the tiny window of opportunity between PMS and your "happy period" was good for you.
m.a.t.,
You're still funny as hell to me!
mac,
Jali as in Jolly Rancher candies.
superstar,
Call me for your make-up work by 3 pm today.
lbb,
I'll be happy just to have you come back!
gina,
You've always been one of my favorite writers.
the leonard files,
funny as hell!
cp,
I agree!
mist,
You kill me - just kill me!
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