A Study In Karma

Photo by: Liz Young

Levi was desperately poor, living off the grid in the wilds of Appalachia. Some days, he didn’t eat, the hunting was so poor.

He was quite surprised when he found a serial killer in his wild boar trap.

He took a picture with an old Polaroid. Then he sent smoke signals to his neighbor 25 miles away, the one with a phone, and got to work.

The FBI arrived a week later, anxious to capture Harry the Heart-Eater. Unfortunately, he was gone.

A frustrated Agent Fredericks said, “What was he like?”

“Not bad,” said Levi. “Especially with ketchup and mustard.”
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Written for the Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/07/11/13-july-2018/

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The Misfire

Photo by: wildverbs

On the tiny isle of Miklos, resorts sprouted up everywhere. The super-rich and the famous flocked to its opulent hotels and warm seas. Here, Niko plied his gold-digging trade.

He found her sitting in a beach chair, broad-rimmed hat flowing around her hair. A filmy, white dress fluttered in the breeze across the seat back. Birds flocked above her. Clearly, she was alone.

He approached from behind, letting his rich voice touch her. “The sea seeks its bliss in the beauty of your eyes. The wind longs to caress your skin. Your beautiful dress dances across your body, wondering at the glorious curves of you.”

He saw her twitch at his words, knowing she was touched by his practiced oratory. He drew near to her.

“Even the white birds flock to be close to your beauty.”

As he stepped next to her, she removed her hat.

“I’ll tell my wife you like her dress,” said Frank, lounging against the dress and scratching at his beard. “And I’m pretty sure the seagulls after my fish & chips.”
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Written for: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/07/09/fffaw-challenge-173rd/

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Kerpow!

Photo by: J Hardy Carroll

After Officer Moynihan started walking his new beat, crime rose for about two weeks. The crooks knew he had a prosthetic leg, and they figured he could never catch anyone.

Unknown to them, Moynihan was a world-class sprinter before his accident. Even with the prosthetic, he still ran faster than most everyone, but that wasn’t the worst of it for the bad guys.

After the third purse-snatcher in a day entered the station, in cuffs with a bootprint upside his head, the truth was revealed.

It’s just that no one expected his artificial leg had a boomerang feature.
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Written for the Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/07/04/6-july-2018/

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The Decision

Photo by: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Piper worked on her latest music composition, looping parts through her keyboard while adding another part on guitar.

An alien crashed through her door, blasters raised in tentacles.

“Ohmigosh!” squeaked Piper. “Are you abducting me?”

Hah’zul’s mission was indeed to capture her for dissection. If he brought her back within minutes he would receive a promotion. Back home he’d be hailed as a war hero. Females would flock to his pools. Riches would be his.

Or he could listen to this human’s beautiful music.

The decision was simple, really.

Hah’zul lowered his guns. “Would you play that song again?”

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Written for the Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/06/27/29-june-2018/

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The Solo Effort

Photo by: Yinglan Z.

Captain Jones stood upon a hilltop of the newly colonized planet, New Montana. A team of his hand-picked men helped him raise the massive flagpole. Soon the United States flag flapped proudly in the breeze.

“I claim New Montanta for the United States of America!” he shouted proudly.

Photographers took pictures of the proud moment.

After the ceremony, everyone returned to their tasks building the colony. Jones remained behind and surveyed the terrain.

A supply ship landed with vital colony supplies. Mr. Yaminashi, the deliveryman, asked Jones to sign the shipping order. “New colony?” he said.

“It is,” said Jones. “This planet is claimed solely by the USA. Proof that only America can complete a solo effort to explore space. What’s in the shipment?”

Yaminashi looked down the list. “Lessee. Habitat domes from Germany, ham from Denmark, blankets from Peru, furniture from Sweden, rovers from China, ramen from Japan…”
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Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/06/25/fffaw-challenge-171st/

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The Hot

Photo by: Susan Spaulding

Estella built her restaurant out of pilings, sticks, and assorted debris she found discarded near the shore. She began selling her pork tamales and soon gained a reputation. People from all over Mexico traveled to try them. When touristas entered the tiny space to eat, she insisted they eat with milk. Often, she called the hospital in advance.

Alien assassin, Torbyld Kin, entered the ramshackle hut on a mission. Like others of his race, he looked perfectly human. His people hated humans and believed themselves superior. Unfortunately, after losing three interstellar wars to humans, their hate grew worse. Thus, Torbyld was sent back 300 years to kill Gerrold Hardy, inventor of the human FTL drive.

Torbyld entered, expecting to find Hardy on vacation from grad school, but was mere hours early. With nothing to do, he ordered tamales.

“You Americano?” said Estella.

“No. Why?”

“Americanos catch fire too easy.”

“You exaggerate.”

“Maybe. You want mild, medium, or hot? I give mild to Americanos and babies. Hot only for Mexicans.”

“I’m not American! Gimme the hot.”

Five minutes later, Estella set down the fire extinguisher. She called the hospital.

“Estupido American ate the hot…what?… No stretcher. Bring an ashtray.”
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Written for Sunday Photo Fiction: https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2018/06/23/sunday-photo-fiction-june-23-2018/

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Electric Sheep

Ben and Roger stood looking over Roger’s field. Sheep wandered across the pastoral setting.

Ben grunted. “Robot Electric Sheep. Now I’ve seen it all.”

“My house robot dreamed it up,” said Roger.

“You can’t get wool from them, though.”

“Don’t expect to. I just use them to mow the grass to a precise height.”

“Guess you don’t need sheepdogs.”

“Nope.” Roger held up a remote. “When it’s time for them to return I just push a button.”

“Huh! They’re no trouble at all.”

In the field, sheep BAA-413 turned to BAA-359 and said, “Do you remember how to get to the charging station?”

“Naa,” said BAA-359. “It’s been a while since I’ve been there. I’m a little rusty.”
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Written for What Pegman Saw: https://whatpegmansaw.com/2018/06/23/coniston-water-lake-district-england/

Author’s Notes:

The movie Bladerunner was based on a book by Philip K. Dick entitled, “Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep?” So now you know…Robots do…

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