This Pizza Tastes Like Freedom (A Story Dice Story)

I stumbled across Dave Birss’s Story Dice the other day when I was looking for inspiration for a story. I’d heard of story dice before and wondered if there was an online version – and there is! There are a handful of other creativity tools on his site, take a look here: https://davebirss.com/storydice/

The idea: quite simply roll the dice, look at the images and see if you can make a story from them. Dave Birss suggests using the dice in the order they are rolled, but it’s up to you. You can either take them literally (a pizza is a pizza) or interpret them (a pizza represents fast food or Italy or acne).

Here’s my story dice story:

This Pizza Tastes Like Freedom

Dylan was sitting in his pants on the sofa, eating a huge slice of meat-feast pizza (extra cheese). The pizza slice was so large that it curved down like a ski slope. A slice of pepperoni slid to the end and launched itself onto the sofa cushion, Dylan watched it land and grinned.

‘You stay there, mate,’ he said to the pepperoni. ‘Welcome to my new flat. My place, my rules. No one telling me what to do, making me clean my room or take out the bins. Freedom at last!’

Dylan leaned back and pointed the remote control at the telly.

‘This is the life!’ he said to his new pepperoni pal as he flicked through the channels. A large drop of water picked this moment to disagree, landing on his head with a plop.

‘What the-?’

A second droplet joined the party. Dylan looked up and saw an alarming bulge in the ceiling. And it was getting bigger. He leapt up from the sofa at the exact same moment that the bulge burst, covering Dylan in a shower of plaster lumps, then rinsing him off with several gallons of ice-cold water. Through the gaping hole that had now appeared in the ceiling, the wind screamed like a banshee. Dylan shrieked, shivered, and dripped all at once. He reached for his phone, starting to sob.

‘Mum! Can you pick me up, please? I want to go home!’

On the sodden sofa, the pepperoni tutted to itself, as the water droplets danced a little jig on the remains of the pizza.

Why not give it a go yourself? (The dice also make a great writers’ night in drinking game!)

Jack Woz Ere

Jack Woz Ere

Geraldine threw down her cap in horror. She’d returned from the pub after a quick pint to find the words JACK WOZ ERE carved into her favourite tree. People thought Tree Protection Officers watched trees all day … okay, she basically did. Now she’d failed at even that simple task.

I’m going to get fired, thought Geraldine. Maybe if I carve a little here, shave a bit there…

Hours later she stepped back, admiring her work. Not bad.

Even better, her hat had filled with coins while she worked. Enough for a pint, Geraldine grinned and headed back to the pub.

(100 words)

PHOTO PROMPT © JS Brand

Apologies to any Tree Protection Officers out there, I realise there’s more to the job than watching trees! I’ve been on holiday for a couple of weeks (did you miss me?). The wifi was bad and the company good so I didn’t try to participate while I was away but am looking forward to getting stuck into this week’s stories.

Click the link below to see what other Friday Fictioneers did with the prompt, or click here to head over to Rochelle’s place and join in.

Pushing Up Daisies

Greta knelt in the flowerbed admiring the exquisite white daisies, they were truly spectacular this year. She was famed for her green fingers, friends joked that she could plant anything and make it grow: shoes, umbrellas, even money (she tried – no joy).

Greta was rarely allowed to buy seeds; her husband kept a tight hold on the purse strings, and on his wife’s strings. He enjoyed making her dance. Until she snapped and he found himself on the receiving end of her hefty garden spade.

Who knew he’d make such excellent fertilizer? Greta inhaled the daisy’s heady fragrance and smiled.

(100 words)

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

 I’m a day late this week. Busy, busy, busy! The picture made me think of an umbrella tree, and my story sprouted from there 🙂

Click the link below to see what other Friday Fictioneers did with the prompt, or click here to head over to Rochelle’s place and join in.

Boxed In

 We lived in Gothic House, seven squeezed in students. My room was the smallest, a cupboard really, barely space for the slatted single bed, but only a tenner a week. I kept my suitcase under the bed, wide open. When I needed anything, I’d sit at one end and roll up the mattress to get to my things. For a really good rummage, I’d drag the whole suitcase into the hall.

Now I wander through my country house, with its marble floors, balconies and double bedrooms, and I wish I could peel the mattress back to those Gothic House days.

(100 words)

Photo prompt © J Hardy Carroll

 Another Friday, another fiction. This one’s less ha ha and more wistful aah. Click the link below to see what other Friday Fictioneers did with the prompt, or click here to head over to Rochelle’s place and join in.

Square Peg

This story won first place in Zeroflash’s monthly flash fiction competition. The theme was 8-bit universes and it got my creative juices flowing. Why not pop over there and have a go at this month’s offering? After you’ve read all about Square Peg of course!

Square Peg

Mrs Peach sat in the doctor’s surgery and squeezed her daughter Peggy’s hand, trying to ignore the stares they were getting. Please don’t let anyone drop the P-bomb, she thought to herself, fingers crossed. A small boy pushed open the door, pulling his mother behind him. Spotting Peggy, he stopped abruptly. Hand outstretched, finger pointing, he uttered the word that Mrs Peach had been dreading.

“Mum, that girl’s all pixelated!”

Two red squares burned in Peggy’s low-res cheeks.

“We don’t use that word, Robert, we say ‘underdefined’,” said the boy’s mum, ushering him away. She turned to Mrs Peach, “Sorry, he doesn’t know any better.”

Yesterday was Peggy’s tenth birthday. The whole class was invited, although only a handful came, a pitfall of being the only underdefined child at a high res school. Mrs Peach had laid on all of Peggy’s favourites: Battenberg cake, Turkish delight, Kola Kubes and cartons of juice. Then Grandma ruined the day, calling Peggy “too jagged for cuddles”. Grandma’s was a different generation, but that was no excuse. Peggy ran outside. Mrs Peach found her hiding in the garage trying to rub off her edges with sandpaper.

Still, things were looking up. Dr Trenneman had had some success with cases like Peggy’s. When the doctor appeared Mrs Peach squeezed her daughter’s angular hand once more and allowed her to be led away.

Ten long minutes later

Dr Trenneman reappeared … Mrs Peach couldn’t believe her eyes … Peggy was fixed! She had curves, individual strands of hair, even teeth! And look! Eyelashes! She hugged, and hugged Peggy’s warm, soft body.

“Thank you! Thank you!” she said. “How did you do it?”

“Oh, it was simple really,” said the doctor, smiling. “I just switched her off, waited five minutes and then switched her back on again.”

(300 words)

Cinnamon Dreams

Cinnamon Dreams

Bob Tambourine and his kaftan-clad wife, Windsock, loved their crooked little stone house. Bob had built it himself (you could tell). Their daughter, Cinnamon Sky, was less enamoured. She craved normal things like matching plates, burgers made with meat not lentils, running water, electricity, clothes with the price tags on and food that comes in cellophane packets.

But most of all, thought Cinnamon Sky, as she squatted in the dark outside, most of all I want a toilet. Indoors. With a seat. And a flush. Cinnamon smiled at the thought, and then sighed as she accidentally peed on her toes.

(100 words – no cheating this week!)

 Written for Friday Fiction – click the link below to see what other writers did with the prompt, or click here to head over to Rochelle’s place and join in.

 

Need more Tambourines? Try Cinnamon Sky Sees The Light or It’s Pretty But Is It Art?

Lovely Legs

photo by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

Lovely Legs

“Don’t do it!” the old woman yelled into the waves. “Don’t do it, you foolish girl! He might be your Prince Charming now, but he’ll be Prince-having-it-off-with-Tina-from-the-chip-shop before you know it. They’re all lying bastards! I should know, I was you fifty years ago. Don’t make the same mistake!

And nobody warns you about leg cramps, or arthritis, or how insanely ugly knees are. And don’t get me started on varicose veins!”

There was a distant splash and the briefest flicker of a shimmering fishtail, then the sea fell silent. The old woman turned away, relieved.

“Bitch.” said Prince Charming.

(100 words)

…although I cheated with the word “Prince-having-it-off-with-Tina-from-the-chip-shop.” Check out other (probably more sensible) writers by clicking on the link below.

The Maud Manoeuvre

Photo by Roger Bultot

Although worms were hardly a gastronomic delight, when Maud died and was reincarnated as a brown sparrow, she embraced her new life with vigour. She’d been a heavy human, but now felt almost weightless as she sailed through the sky. She even invented her own little swoop, diving almost to ground-level then appearing to hop in mid-air before soaring up again. She called it the Maud Manoeuvre.

Her favourite pastime, however, was perching on the wire outside Number 22 with all the other sparrows. And shitting on her ex-husband as he left for work. She called that manoeuvre Just Desserts.

(100 words)

It’s been a while. I’m a little rusty and a day late, but here’s my silly (as always) offering for Friday Fiction. Click on the link below to see what other writers did with the prompt.

For more from me try this one: 100 word stories

Friday Fiction: The Ins & Outs of Love

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Photo prompt copyright: Kelly Sands

The Ins And Outs of Love

They lie on their backs in her garden, watching the storm clouds roll by. It was Kate’s idea, she saw it in a film and hopes Sam will think her quirky, cool and romantic. Sam thinks it’s weird, but stays because he’s hoping for some action.

Kate is in love; Sam is in lust.

He makes his move…

Kate is inexperienced; Sam is in luck.

Her clothes slide off and he slides on…

Kate is in the buff; Sam is in Kate.

Something’s happening deep inside her…

Kate is in trouble.

Sam is in a taxi, heading out of town.

 

(100 words)

 

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For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!

Friday Fiction: #callingmrcupid

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Photo prompt: Claire Fuller

 

#callingmrcupid

The words flashed on the screen, the ones she’d been dreading for weeks. She’d been thrilled to discover online dating, and even more thrilled when she’d been matched with Derek. They chatted every day, sometimes late into the night. But now the moment had come:

derek_132: Let’s meet.

Her heart raced and sank in equal measures. She knew it would be a disaster, it always was. Men changed when they met her, every man she had ever known, and she couldn’t bear to lose Derek. Still, maybe this time it would be different.

medusa_1: How do you feel about snakes?

 

(100 words)

 

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For those who don’t know, Friday Fictioneers is a challenge to write a 100 word story from a picture prompt. It’s hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and anyone can play. Thanks for hosting, Rochelle! Check out the link below to see what other fictioneers did with this week’s prompt.

Need more Friday Fiction? Click the blue frog to read more stories from other fictioneers!

Need more stuff to read? Give Firewords Quarterly a go (there’s one of my stories in Issue One!) NOW AVAILABLE AS A DIGITAL DOWNLOAD – CLICK HERE FOR MORE