word list Prompt #334 - Word List

[comicfan]

Use the following in a story – horrible smell, broken door, honey comb, thunder, and a key.

[Valkyrie]

Here's mine.  It's a bit of a sad one this week. 

 

https://www.gayauthors.org/story/valkyrie71/2014promptresponses/26

[Kitt]

Finally - a prompt that woke the little voice!

 

https://www.gayauthors.org/story/kitt/thevoicerambleson/5 

[pmdacey]

Here is my contribution. Let me know what you think of my take on this prompt.

 

 

 

“What is that horrible smell?” Sara asked holding her nose.

 

“I’m afraid to find out.” Neil tried to peer through the sidelights of the door, but they were smudged with too much grime and the interior was dark.

 

“We have to find out.  What if…” Sara trailed off.

 

“I know, I know.” They could remember the mess when their uncle had been found three days after he had died.  He was sitting back in his recliner with his pants around his knees and a porno playing on endless repeat on the television. The recliner had to be burned.

 

Neil pounded as loudly as he could on the door and waited. There was no sound from inside. He tried knocking again and jiggling the door knob.

 

“I’m getting scared Neil.” Sara was on the verge of tears.

 

“I got this. I got this.”  It was something he always said, usually when he was trying to calm somebody else or bolster his own confidence.

 

He reached down to tip the old copper spittoon that sat next to the door and retrieved the spare key. He held it up triumphantly to his sister before slipping it into the lock. When he tried to turn it the knob wouldn’t budge.

 

“What the fuck?” He furiously tried to turn the key while wiggling the knob to no avail.

 

“Oh god, what now?” Sara asked.

 

Neil stood back and examined the door. The house was old and the door did not even fit squarely into the jamb.

 

“I got this,” he said again.

 

He pushed his sister out of the way before he raised his leg and planted his foot with as much force as he could muster immediately above the lock. The impact sent a painful tremor from foot all the way up to his buttocks and he almost fell over.

 

“Neil!” Sara screeched.

 

“It’s okay. I got this,” he said as he tried to regain his balance. He steadied himself to repeat the attack. This time he heard the wood crack like a peal of thunder, but the door still head fast.

 

One more time, he told himself. The bottom of his foot stung and he hoped he had not done himself any serious damage. He kicked the door one more time and was rewarded with a satisfying splintering of wood as it moved inward slightly. Finally, placing his shoulder against the broken door he was able to force it open.

 

The stench that wafted out to them was strong enough to make Sara cover her mouth and nose to keep from retching.

 

“Hello?” Neil cautiously called into the gloom of the hallway.

 

With Sara at his shoulder he moved inside. He tried breathing through his mouth to avoid the putrid aroma, but he could taste whatever was fouling the air on his tongue.

 

The kitchen was to their immediate right and they inched their way in that direction. On the table was a box of Honeycombs cereal with a bowl beside it. The bowl’s contents had long gone onto a new life as something black and fuzzy. The sink was full of dirty dishes and the trash was overflowing.

 

If this was the source of the fetor then there was a glimmer of hope, but how and why did things fall into this state?

 

“Where are they?” Sara asked.

 

“Come on,” Neil urged.

 

The living room was next and as always it was the darkest room in the house. They were constantly counseled that too much light would fade the fabrics and dry out the wood. Heavy drapes covered the windows and there were no light bulbs stronger than forty watts.

 

There were no lights on and they could barely make out the figure slumped in the recliner.

 

Oh god, Neil thought to himself, I so do not got this.

 

Sara hung back as Neil slowly approached the figure.

 

He barely croaked out a “Dad?” When there was no response he tried again, a little more forcefully, “Dad?”

 

Finally he reached out his hand and rested it on the flannel clad shoulder. It felt boney, but it wasn’t cold. He had never touched a corpse, but he understood that they were supposed to feel cold.  Without knowing what else to do he gave his father a little shake.

 

“Dad?”

 

He jumped back when his father snorted and jerked. The man pulled the small headphones from his ears and turned off the CD player in his lap.

 

“Neil? Sara?” The man squinted at his children through the dusky shadows of the room. “What are you doing here?”

 

“We were worried about you,” Sara said stepping further into the room.

 

“Why didn’t you answer the door?” Neil asked.

 

“I can’t hear nothing when I got my music on. Hell, it is hard enough to hear anything when I don’t.”

 

“Why is the kitchen such a mess?  Where is Mom?”

 

“She’s upstairs.”

 

“What’s she doing up there?”

 

“Nothing, she’s dead.”

[Ron]

 

 

"Nothing, she's dead."

 

Well, that's a hell of a punchline!

[Valkyrie]

Yikes!  That's a hell of a way to find out that your mom died.   Great take on the prompt. 

[comicfan]

Well that was definitely different. lol

[joann414]

I know this should be tragically sad but I laughed my ass off.  How damn funny!  Great job!

[wolfwriter]

https://www.gayauthors.org/story/wolfwriter/themarine/3

[comicfan]

Here is my take on it  - https://www.gayauthors.org/story/comicfan/apromptaweek/19

[ColumbusGuy]

Better late than never--this one fit very well into my storyline!

 

Jay & Miles #7.