Five Sentence Fiction – Devotion

Silhouette (Photo credit: Siddy Lam)

Deadly Devotion

She gripped the handle on the suitcase as if it were a hand that saved her from falling off a cliff and then slammed the car door.

When she whirled around, a heavy thud of footsteps gave way to a strapping silhouette slinking toward her in the night.

“I can’t let you go,” he said; as words caught in her throat, a plane rumbled overhead.

Two steps closer and a cold blade cut through sealskin deep into her chest. ”I’m taking you home,” he lifted her, cradling her in his arms, as the heart she hoped would heal bled out onto the coat he gave her on her last birthday.

 

Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction. 

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Die Babylon Bitch! Search Your Soul, Not My Computer

For weeks, possibly months – perchance a millennium – I tried to purge the search engine scourge, Babylon, from my Firefox browser.

The scourge appeared one day whilst I opened a tab. Instead of seeing my beloved Google home page, I saw that blight Babylon, not the ancient city, which would have been awesome.

I stared at the strange search urchin on my screen and said, “Bloody hell, what are you? I command you in the name of the Lord to depart the toolbar.”

It didn’t.  It continued bullying Firefox into submission and took over Tab Town.

I searched for answers.  The They-Sayers said:

  • Clear the cache
  • Clear history
  • Check your addons

I did everything they said, but they were wrong.

And the unwelcome search squatter continued its incursion while I continued to seek counsel from other web tech scholars.

They said:

  • Block Babylon under Firefox Options

Nary, this was naught the right answer. Alas, Babylon remained and stalked me like a malware hooligan in the night.

One day after an exhaustive search around the globe, I found the One with answers – Dedicated 2-viruses, a site that cleared my computer and my head of infected Babylon residue. And poof, as suddenly as Babylon appeared, it was gone.

THE END

Has your toolbar been hijacked by Babylon?

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One Shoe Left Behind

He was gone, one shoe left behind collecting dust in the closet.

A slap of heel against the threshold and the door slam behind, sounds she remembered as he slipped into the dense dark of night, the emptiness lingering in the hollows of her eyes.

He looked back as she steadied the scope on the rifle. A little to the right and an explosion ripped through murky sky.

“Must have been a car backfiring,” she told the cop when she took his parka and hung it in the closet above the one shoe left behind.

This post is in response to the Five Sentence Fiction prompt “zombies.”

Pingback backlash

I’m not a web-tech nerd. Web-tech words, symbols and directions deep fry my brain.

Still, many of us learn web tech stuff simply through osmosis. And learn it I did, this past Monday when I added my blog to Google Analytics.

That took about an hour.

After I added Think Spin to Google Analytics, submitted a site map, using a WordPress plug-in, and then verified I was the site owner, Google performed an integrity check of my blog, which didn’t go well.

Google found several issues, became apoplectic and then was quite rude. It said, “Hey stupid, you have 10,000 problems that must be fixed!”

So, I did what Google told me since it’s usually right about most things.

Though there was that time I ended up on a remote dirt road when using Google maps.

To appease the Google, I dashed over to my dashboard and enacted a plug-in called Wordfence Security, not to be confused with Homeland Security and the color-coded warning system. My warning appeared in the red-letter phrase, “File bad!” or something.

Wordfence informed me that my site had been infiltrated by an evil spam pingback — not a hairy-nosed wombat or pig in the blanket.

But like a hairy-nosed wombat and pig in the blanket, the pingback was bad. So, bad that Google’s web bots couldn’t crawl my site.

Ew! I hate creepy crawly things on my arm or my blog.

Then, Wordfence ordered me to delete the pingback file.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Why should I trust you?” — since we just had met.

I needed confirmation from another source.

After spending the afternoon searching the vast cyber library of “too much information,” I gave up and did what I should have done hours earlier, called BlueHost, my web hosting company.

During a two-minute conversation, BlueHost guy concurred with Wordfence plug-in.

“Delete it!” he said. “We did a back up this morning should anything go wrong.”

“What could go wrong?” Stupid question.

So, I deleted the evil spam pingback, at which time, Wordfence and Google probably popped open a bottle of champagne and celebrated the neophyte’s success in the complex universe of techno nerd babble.

Oh, and I didn’t get any writing done until now.

What did I learn from this? You may ask. Don’t ever bring back a pingback once it’s fallen in the spam.

Got blog troubles?

 

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Dentist Dementia

It’s eight o’clock in the morning.The caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet.

“Bite down hard,” the dentist says, referring to the temporary crown he just stuck in my mouth.

Aaargh!

“Only one more minute.”

A minute of silence, I hope, but no.

“I recently read a great book called …”

“Aaargh!”

Why didn’t I take Jim’s advice and bring the iPod. He takes his isolation seriously in the chair. He also wears sunglasses. I should have listened to him. The sunglasses would have blocked the bits of glue and tooth that struck me in the eye like shrapnel.

The monologue continued.

“It’s historical fiction. I love historical fiction.”

I love peace and quiet.

“It takes place in the middle east.”

I hear it’s lovely this time of year in the PLO district.

“It’s a fascinating book about…”

I’m pretty sure a minute has passed though I did lose track of time when I nodded off, possibly from inhaling dental glue. I had a lovely dream about lying on a beach by the Sea of Galilee.

“Almost done.”

With the faux crown or your fucking story?

“Read the book in two days…”

I pray it doesn’t take him that long to talk about it. I have to go to work tomorrow. What if he plans to keep me here as a captive audience? What if I never leave the chair? I can’t even call 911 with my limited vocabulary.

911. What’s your emergency?

Aaargh!!

“I love all the James Michener books. Did you read…”

I had planned to until now.

“I just don’t know how much of the book is true.”

Dude, it’s historical fiction. It doesn’t have to be true.

He checks his watch. “I think it’s done.”

The tooth or monologue?

He sticks his hairy knuckles in my mouth to tinker with the temporary crown. It passes the wiggle test.

“You’re good to go.”

I bolt from the chair, jump into my car and back into a stone wall. Noooooo! I inspect the bumper that now sports a lovely stone dent etching. Can my day get any worse?

I arrive home and sit down at the computer to work on my book. An hour later, I sense an unidentified moving object in my mouth. I remove it.

“Nooooooo!” I stare at the temporary crown sitting in my hand when it should be sitting in my mouth.

I call the dentist. He’s out to lunch, literally and figuratively. I leave a message. Thirty minutes later, his assistant calls me back.

“Can you come over here now?”

So, I go over there now.

It’s two o’clock and I’m back in the chair, teeth clenched on my very temporary crown.

“I recently read a great book called…”

He starts telling me about the same damn book from the morning.

“Aarrgh!!!!!”

The dude’s got dentist dementia from sniffing too much dental redo glue.

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I Brake for Frogs

Frogger Beyond

Frogger Beyond (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the infinite darkness of suburbia, an asphalt-hopping frog defies death to cross the road. I see it in a flash of headlight that hits it midway before it reaches the other side.

I brake to prevent from flattening it, guided by a lingering empathy from the 80s. I regret killing its countless cartoon compadres while playing the arcade game, Frogger.

Caught in the intractable glare of my high beams, the frog hesitates, immobilized by the sudden iridescent light, an anomaly at night.

The frog’s confusion is evident in its inertia, a fleshy bull’s-eye sitting in the center of the road.

I wait, stuck in the shuddering restraint of a two-ton idling car, while checking the rearview mirror for oncoming lights. With the weight of my shoe firmly planted on the brake, I allow patience to temper my inclination to pivot toward the gas.

“Okay, frog. I can spare a minute or two as long as it’s just me and you.” I sigh, and then revisit the empty darkness of the rearview mirror.

“Frog, as long as I’m safe, you’re safe.”

I give the frog a moment to ponder the outcome of its inaction and hope the word, “Splat” comes to mind.

Meanwhile, I lower the headlights, thinking it might jump-start the amphibian brain.

Only seconds pass before the frog inches forward toward the grassy knoll on the other side.

“Finally, I won a game of Frogger. It only took me thirty years.”

I smile from the pale reminder of a youthful memory, brighten the headlights and drive.

 

Silly Sunday #47

Are you funny? If so, please join in at Silly Sunday, co-hosted by Rhonda of Kibitz Spot and Laugh Quotes and Sandee of Comedy Plus. Rhonda is on a big adventure traveling the world until December 2, 2012. For more information about Silly Sunday click HERE.