Death By Chocolate - #FridayFlash

It's the one year anniversary of #fridayflash and Jon Strother at Mad Utopia has a list of everyone's debut story, along with the date that it posted. This makes for a fun walk down memory lane and I urge you to check out the list. You can find it here. While you're there make sure to give Jon a big thank you for starting this fantastic group!

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Lights glowed through shop windows around the Grand Place as people strolled in the warm Brussels night air.

"I've heard that Godiva chocolate is to die for." Chloe glanced sideways at her companion, a smile on her face. "Would you buy me some?"

"Of course, my sweet." Lucien chuckled at her enthusiasm and led her toward the famous shop. "If, as you say, it's worth dying for, then how could I possibly refuse?"

"Look! They have chocolate covered marshmallows." Chloe dragged Lucien over to the counter in the tiny store, her eyes shining with delight.

"Fancy meeting you here, my friend." The voice at Lucien's back fairly dripped with irony. He straightened, trying for nonchalance as he turned around to confront the speaker.

"Death, Chronos. What a pleasant surprise. What brings you to Belgium?"

"I have a craving for chocolate covered peanuts tonight," Death said, his jaw dropped in a laugh.

"Actually, Michael sent us." Chronos watched Lucien's face turn a dull red as the import of that statement sank in. "You can't have her. She has other plans for Chloe."

Lucien struggled with that information for a moment before relaxing.

"Well, I already have the girl. Why doesn't She come here Herself and take her? Why send messengers?"

Death wandered behind the counter and helped himself to the peanuts, tossing them into an eye socket as he savored their gooey richness.

"Come on, Evil. Let's not stand here arguing forever." Chronos froze time to make his point. "You know time won't work in your favor on this one, Lucien."


"All right," he muttered. "But you take her home."


"Agreed. But be a gentleman and pay for her chocolate first."


Chronos hid a smirk as Lucien snarled and slapped some Euros on the counter. He sank through the floor in a fiery huff.


"Are we ready to leave?" Death popped the last of the peanuts in the air.


"Uh, not quite. You have chocolate…" Chronos motioned circles around his eyes with his fingers and handed Death a napkin.


"Thanks, dude. Guess they melted faster than I thought. How do you want to handle her?" Death pointed at Chloe, frozen mid-bite in a chocolate marshmallow ecstasy.


Chronos shrugged and tipped his hourglass. Chloe disappeared.


"She'll think she was sleepwalking and raided the refrigerator. Hand me a piece of that orange chocolate, will you?"


©2010 Laura Eno

Happy Birthday #FridayFlash

It's the one year anniversary of #fridayflash and Jon Strother at Mad Utopia has a list of everyone's debut story, along with the date that it posted. This makes for a fun walk down memory lane and I urge you to check out the list. You can find it here.

My story, They Feed, no longer has the original link. I posted it on 6/19/09 on a different blog, before I switched over to this one. Below is the story if you care to read it.


They Feed

The light shone on the path, a thin ribbon highlighting the destruction. The survivors hurried out of sight, not wanting to be revealed. They moved swiftly through the darkness, back to their base.

The beacon swept over the remains, showing the carnage left behind. Their troops lay scattered throughout the area, killed by the purge.

They’d been through worse though, always managing to return stronger than before. This was only a setback. As long as just one of them thrived, their fight to exist would continue.

They lived to conquer new territory. Taking…always taking. Defeat was unknown to them. They struck fear in the minds of those whose domiciles they entered. Nothing could prevent them from inheriting the earth…nothing at all. They were invincible.

Loretta put the flashlight away in disgust. The empty aerosol can landed in the trash with a clang. “Ralph, put more bug spray on the list. The damn cockroaches are back again.”

©2009 Laura Eno

Martians Don't Eat Corn - #FridayFlash

They found Bart Haskins this morning at the bottom of an old well. Called it an accidental death, but I know better. Third death this week too. They weren’t no accidents. It was the Martians that done it.

Those three men wouldn’t believe me when I said that the Martians don’t eat corn and they better plant something else. No sir, they just went right ahead and planted like they always did, but look at their crops now – withering away even as the stalks are sprouting out of the ground. ‘Course the sheriff said their crops were poisoned, but it was really the Martians and their death ray. I tell ya, you don’t want to get on those Martians’ bad side. They’re some mean, nasty critters, if you ask me.

It all started back in the fall, when I was plowing. I had me some nice straight rows in the dirt when one of their flying saucers landed right smack in the middle of my field. I was some perturbed, I’ll tell ya. A mite scared too, if truth be told. I musta blacked out, but when I woke up there were these crazy circles in my field.

My head felt none too good so I went back home to lie down. That’s when I had the dream. You see, those Martians had taken me to their flying saucer and instructed me to tell the townsfolk that Martians don’t eat corn and we should plant something else. The dream brought it all back to me.

Well, I tried to warn the others, but they told me I was crazy or drunk. Just because I have a still don’t mean I’m always drunk. I’m gonna miss the corn on account of that, but you can’t argue with a Martian.

So anyway, I figured it’s their loss if they don’t want to make the Martians happy. But now that spring’s here, people are dying and I’m right scared. The law don’t believe me, either. They locked me up this morning, said they was gonna try me for murder and destroying crops with kerosene.

They’ll see though, when all the crops are dead. Then they’ll have to listen. I know the Martians will get me out of here soon. You see, I planted me some green beans. The Martians told me they really like those.

©2010 Laura Eno

Plethora of Awards

My cup truly runneth over, not only with awards but with fabulous friends! I appreciate each and every one of you who stop by and comment on my little blog, so for that reason I'm not naming recipients because you all are. Take home your choice of the following awards. You've all earned it.



I'd like to thank both Mariana Blaser at mariblaser's randomities and Sheila Deeth at Sheila Deeth for the Creative Writer Award.



Next, thanks to the lovely Anne Tyler Lord of Don't Fence Me In for the Super Peeps Club Award.



And both Valerie of As The Moon Climbs and George at Tumblemoose have graced me with the Beautiful Blogger Award.

I'm a rebel so I'm not adhering to the rules. Send your vampires after me if you wish... I love you all.

Friends - #FridayFlash

An eerie buzz woke Chronos out of a light doze. The sitcom on TV had been a re-run and he'd fallen asleep in the middle of it.

"Dude, your hourglass just turned blue," Death said between peanut tosses.

"What?" That snapped him awake. The noise grew louder as the sand turned a deeper color. An emergency at the infirmary. He brushed stray peanuts off his lap and stood.

"I'll come with you," Death said and shut the TV off. "I already know who dies in this episode."

A harried nurse at the Immortal Hospital ushered them into the surgical bay. Eros stood inside, his face redder than Lucien's horns and contorted in pain.

"This is all your fault, you blooming clock!"

Chronos took a step back. The cherub's normal countenance looked more like an evil gnome at the moment.

"What happened?"

"If you paid attention you'd already bloody well know."

Eros turned purple as he gasped for breath after his outburst. The doctor plunged a needle into the little guy's arm and he stopped hyperventilating. A moment later a smile took over his face but the angry words still spewed.

"I shot an arrow at two of my clients and turned to leave when your infernal timekeeping sputtered again. The arrow backtracked and hit me instead, you stupid timepiece."

Death's jaw dropped in a laugh, which he smothered with his metacarpus.

"You won't find it funny, you bag of rotten bones, when deaths are reversed."

The doctor intervened before a fight broke out.

"I need to perform the surgery now, gentlemen. If you'd climb up on the table, Eros, we'll have you fixed in no time."

Eros turned his back on Death and Chronos in a huff, his hospital gown pitching open as if caught in a gust of wind. They walked out the door, dissolving into fits of laughter when they reached the hallway. Chronos wiped tears from his eyes as he struggled to speak.

"I never knew that one of his arrows could embed itself so deeply."

"Me either. It's a good thing he has such chubby cheeks." Death howled until a stern-looking nurse bore down on them.

"We'd better go see what he's blathering about." Chronos shifted them to the mortal plane.

They landed on a busy sidewalk, gaping at the people walking backwards, unraveling their earlier movements.

"That's disgusting." Death watched a man depositing bites of donut out of his mouth, the soggy crumbs re-solidifying into his hand.

"My hourglass isn't registering this." Chronos tapped the sand, its flow normal even when he shook it.

"I think I see why. Look over there." Death pointed to a still figure standing across the street.

"Lucien." Chronos marched through the traffic, Death just a step behind him. Concentrating on the pedestrians, Evil didn't notice them until Chronos tapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh, good morning. Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Not really. Do you mind telling me what you're doing?"

"Sorry. I was going to fix it as soon as I find who I'm looking for."

"Lucien, you can't screw up time this way. That's my job."

"I know and I really am sorry. Just another minute, please? I'm looking for an escapee. Then I'll reverse it, I swear."

Death gazed at Lucien with interest. "How could someone escape?"

Fire sparked from Lucien's eyes. "With help from Branthos."

"Your demon bartender?" Death shook his skull. "Pity. He mixed perfect drinks."

"Thirty seconds, Lucien." Chronos tapped the hourglass.

"There they are." Time slowed to a stop as Branthos and a pretty woman rounded the corner, their hurried strides frozen in place. Lucien grabbed both by the collar, a satisfied grin poking around the cigar he chomped on. A flaming hole opened in the sidewalk just as time resumed its normal course. Passersby screamed in panic as they tried to avoid the pit. Lucien dusted his hands off as he walked back over.

"Couldn't you have waited to reset time until after you'd closed the pit?" Chronos grumbled. He watched the small knot of hysteria move down the street, running into the path of traffic. Horns blared and tires screeched.

Lucien shrugged. "You're so persnickety. Besides, Death looked bored. I just gave him something to do."

Evil smiled as they both turned to watch Death jump into the melee. He put his arm around Chronos.

"That's what friends are for, right?"

©2010 Laura Eno

Bad Timing - #FridayFlash

"What's the meaning of this? I can't have this kind of disorder going on."

Chronos held onto his robe as Gaia's temper threatened to whip it off his body. The gale-force winds strengthened as she awaited his answer.

"I've been gone for a week," Chronos said, stumbling in an effort to stay upright. "What happened?"

"That volcano in Iceland – the one with the unpronounceable name – has opened a time vortex beneath it. My flora is mixing into unlikely combinations and the seeds are sprouting over Europe. If the sheep eat it…"

"I'll get right on it." Chronos backed away from her wrath and left in a hurry, stopping only long enough to collect Death on the way.

"I guess we left at a bad time?" Death peered down through the volcano, the spinning maelstrom far below mesmerizing him as it churned.

"Apparently." Chronos dropped a grain of sand down the funnel and the vortex closed.

"That was easy. What was Gaia so mad about?"

"This was the simple part." Chronos wiped the ash from his brow. "The real trouble is over in Ireland. The present-day flora mixed with some prehistoric flora."

"Oh…you mean like the time—"

"I don't even want to think about it." Chronos felt a sudden chill, even standing in a base of lava.

"Cheer up, my friend." Death dropped his jaw in a smile. "It can't be that bad. We'll just pop over and have a look around."

The field in Galway looked peaceful, a gentle rain misting the unusual hybrid grass. Not a sheep in sight.

"I wonder where they all are?" Chronos scanned the horizon but didn't see any animals at all. "We'll have to walk over to the next valley. Maybe they didn't eat this grass after all."

Death turned toward the gentle slope and fell flat on his skull.

"I think I found your missing sheep," he said, picking blades of grass out of his eye sockets.

Chronos patted the air with his hands and felt wads of cotton fluff.

"Oh no, they're invisible. Gaia's going to have my head."

"Cheer up, my friend." Death shuffled around the hidden obstacles to put his arm around his distraught sidekick. "It's still better than the time you turned the goats into satyrs."

"Not really." Chronos gave a shrug, looking morosely at the empty field. "At least you could see them."

©2010 Laura Eno

Mother's Day - Twitter Chats Blog Tour

Welcome to the Twitter Chats Blog Tour, organized by Mari Juniper at Mari's Randomities and Anne Tyler Lord at Don’t Fence Me In. Today's theme is Mother's Day.

You'll be traveling with us through the blogs of some of the fantastic authors and writers who participate in our weekly -- funny, entertaining and educating -- Twitter chats. This tour will feature writers from #writechat, #litchat, and #fridayflash.

You will be directed to your next stop at the end of this post. Please feel welcome here, and have a happy Mother's Day!

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Mother's Day. It's that one day out of the year to say thank you, to express our love to the woman who raised us. It means greeting cards, dinner out, small hands helping with breakfast in bed.

Many mothers don't receive this kind treatment. They are the ones I wish to honor here today. They don't read this blog. Some are illiterate, but strive to educate their children for a better future. Others don't own a computer because it takes all their efforts just to feed their children. Some mothers are hidden away from the world as second-class citizens, still hoping to break the societal chains for their children's sakes.

Mothers everywhere love their children and strive to do their best for the next generation. So many struggle against greater odds than I can ever imagine.

I applaud every one of us, no matter what our circumstances are. We are responsible for the next generation. Let's do it right by reaching out and helping others wherever we can. Happy Mother's Day.

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Thanks for stopping by! Your next stop for the Mother's Day Twitter Chats Blog Tour is Susan Gottfried of West Of Mars.

The complete list of participants can be found at the host's blogs: Mari Juniper and Anne Tyler Lord.

©2010 Laura Eno

Story up at Fifty-Two Stitches

I have a story up at Fifty-Two Stitches called "Dangerous Premonitions," which will also be included in the upcoming anthology to be printed later this year. I'd love for you to stop by and have a read!

Dangerous Premonitions

Many thanks to Aaron Polson for including me in his wonderful project.

Cruisin' - #FridayFlash

Chronos and Death took the week off while I pick my marbles back up...

Debra leaned against Tom as they stood on deck, watching their ship sail out of the harbor. There wasn’t much to see in the dark, since their departure had been delayed for several hours, but they were finally on their way now. Some of the passengers around them continued to mutter about the inconvenience. Debra couldn’t understand their attitude. Whether the ship moved or not, weren’t they still enjoying the amenities?

“Are you having a good time?” Tom slipped his arm around her, smiling.

“It’s all wonderful.” Debra inhaled the fresh sea air, filled with happiness.

They’d had to delay their honeymoon for six months. This was the first opportunity to get away. The minor snafu with the missing passenger during the evacuation drill hadn’t dampened her spirits at all. After listening to the loudspeaker call for a ‘Mr. Anderson’ to report to his assigned station for half an hour, the Captain announced a short delay in their departure time. Now they were finally underway and two blissful weeks of sailing across the Atlantic stretched out before them. Debra looked forward to every second of it.

A small knot of crewmembers blocked the doorway as Tom and Debra made their way back inside. They exchanged cheerful smiles and the usual greetings, but Debra thought the crew seemed nervous. She dismissed the thought almost immediately. Maybe they were new members, unsure of themselves.

Seated for a late dinner, they both admired the ambiance of the formal dining room. It was their first cruise, so Debra had nothing to compare it to, but she found the tasteful elegance impressive.

Tom leaned towards her and whispered in her ear. “Have you noticed how the crew keeps wiping everything down? It’s almost obsessive.”

“I’m glad,” Debra replied. “They’ve had their share of viruses running rampant on these ships. Maybe that missing passenger was ill. I’m going to go to the ladies room before the waiter comes by.”

The cavernous restroom echoed as Debra entered. Its opulent décor looked more like a lounge. Just as she entered the stall, she heard footsteps approach from the far end.

“Did you hear the latest on that sick passenger?”

No one answered. The person must be on a cell phone, Debra thought.

“Well, he died. Doc thinks the virus might be spreading too. A couple more people have already been in to see him. He said we’ve got to keep wiping everything down. If this gets out of hand, we’ll all be out of a job.”

Debra snuck a peek under the stall door. A pair of deck shoes stood in front of the sink, just like the ones that the crew wore.

“You’re down there now? Oh, good. Ask Doc…what do you mean the body’s missing? I’ll be right there.” The shoes hurried out the door, leaving Debra to wonder what was going on.

Their table companions were seated just as Debra returned, forestalling her chance to relay the disturbing conversation to Tom. The older couple chatted amiably, explaining that this was their 30th cruise in the past ten years. The man, Albert, died right after the soup was served, falling face-first into his bowl. The crew unobtrusively whisked him away. Despite his wife’s cries, the diners on the other side of the massive room had no idea what took place. Debra tried to remain philosophical about the incident. Albert hadn’t seemed ill at all. The man most likely had a heart attack, quick and hopefully painless.

After being unable to eat the night before, Debra woke up starving, banal as that seemed. She and Tom hurried up to the top deck for breakfast, passing a legion of crew busy cleaning. Last night’s conversation came back to her in a rush. She looked out at the vast ocean. The sun sparkled off the small whitecaps formed by the ship’s passage through the deep water. Debra could well imagine this ship being the only thing left on earth…bobbing in an endless sea, never reaching land again. The thought made her queasy.

“I’m suddenly not feeling well. Maybe I’m seasick.” Debra tried to make light of her condition, but the notion bothered her. She’d been out on smaller boats in the past, never experiencing any kind of problem.

“I’ll take you down to the infirmary,” Tom said. “They’ll have something for you to take.”

“I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way. You stay here and enjoy your breakfast. I’ll meet you in the room later.”

Debra gave him a kiss and walked to the elevator, past crew wiping down every surface in frantic abandon. Maybe she picked up a virus, like the one that other passenger had.

The infirmary was a small area, currently standing room only with several other passengers who looked a bit green. Debra passed out in the confined space, waking up later on a metal table. Two other tables had patients on them, unmoving and wearing toe tags. One of them was Albert, the man who’d died during dinner the night before. Was she lying in the morgue? Debra passed out again before she could formulate an answer.

The second time she woke, Albert was gone. A new body had taken his place. This one wasn’t dead, not yet anyway. The woman didn’t look very good; she seemed to be having trouble breathing. Where were the doctors?

Debra noticed the tag attached to her own right toe as she sat up to go find help. Pulling it off without comprehending, she noted her name and time of death written on it. Sloughing off a chunk of skin as she idly scratched her arm, Debra decided to go back to her room. She felt fine now and they were obviously short on beds down here.

©2009 Laura Eno
Published in Twisted Dreams Oct 2009

Nine Words

This came to me in an e-mail and, although some of them are phrases, I'm not going to change any of it.

NINE WORDS WOMEN USE

(1) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

(2) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

(3)Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.

(4) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

(5) Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.)

(6) That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

(7) Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you're welcome. (I want to add in a clause here - This is true, unless she says 'Thanks a lot' - that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say 'you're welcome' . that will bring on a 'whatever').

(8) Whatever: Is a woman's way of saying GO TO HELL

(9) Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking 'What's wrong?' For the woman's response refer to # 3.