Stories tagged “g2 challenge entry”

  • Maten las Luces

    Inez d’Umbroso peered in through the skylight, thoroughly disgusted with the frivolity of these ostentatious displays. She’d been denied all that was light, everything deemed good. It seemed these ricos asquerosos had banished her to live w...

  • 64

    Sixty-four. The highest number she really needed to know. She could recognize all the others, but they really meant little beyond how many ticks her metranome could fit into a minute, and that barely went higher than 300. She was particularly good at m...

  • It Never Made Sense

    “What do you mean, ‘you wouldn’t do it’?” She shrugged. “Exactly what it sounds like: if I was being handed world power, I wouldn’t take it. It’s like world domination, you see, and that concept has never...

  • Complete and Utter Confusion

    Aw, man, I’m so confused… what the heck is this all supposed to mean?

  • Curbside Prophet

    I’m a curbside prophet with my hand in my pocket, and I’m waitin’ for my rocket to come… In those days I’d sit out on the corner by the park, often with only my guitar for company. People would often scurry by, rushing to ...

  • Miscalculations

    “What a historic day this is! We’re going to launch the world’s largest rotten watermelon across Times Square!” “And since our calculations are correct, we should be able to hit that target over there.” “Right....

  • Foxtrot Tango Whisky

    … …. . … .-.. .. .—. .—. . .. …. . .. . . – ..-.— .. . – -- – …. . .—. .-.—- .—. . .-. … .-.. - – , .- . .. - .—. .. … …. … - .. ..-...

  • Count Your Fingers

    “I must be dreaming,” he thought. He glanced at his hand and tried to count his fingers. It took a few tries, as his hand looked really blurry, but he counted five on both hands. “So, I’m not dreaming,” he muttered, unable...

  • Deconception

    Charlie sat pondering at his desk. His topic of inquiry for the moment was the concept of time. It seemed constant, but he knew Einstein had proved that time was relative. Charlie also knew that reality itself was relative; if in someone’s mind s...

  • A Word on Dialects from The Irish Pianist

    Y’know, iss kinda funny how diff ‘rent people talk d’pending on where ye’are. F’y’go r’round’New York, the dialects are different. And not just the City, either. There’s more t’New York than t...

  • And Another Thing...

    Message One. BEEP Hey Jay, it’s Patrick. Look, I’ve been trying t’get a hold of you for two days now, and every time I’ve called the line’s been busy. I’ve tried the cell, and it’s either busy or you won’...

  • Rule the World With Coffee

    “Rogers, how many times must I tell you?” “Apparently several, sir.” “Very well Rogers, let’s go through this again. Remember the South Americans that snuck over the border last week? Well, they had in tow a new spec...

  • Sale Weekend

    I like meandering by little neighborhoods, especially during the summer. Several times some of the houses, or indeed the entire neighborhood, will drag an enormous amount of unwanted knick-knacks or flat-out junk, semi-organize it with some coherency, ...

  • Just Found: Love Letters, Never Sent

    The other day I dug boxes from my closet, boxes that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. The first box to emerge was full of papers: yellowing newspapers, ancient school assignments, random scraps that seemed important at the time. But as I so...

  • Who Can tell?

    “The sky is large on large days and small on small days.” “Wha…??” “Let me explain: my perception of reality makes the sky bigger on big days, and smaller on small days. It’s like green, it gets darker on green days an...

  • Creative Rebel (sonnet)

    We’re not allowed to think outside the box, Thinking at all is frowned upon out here. Forget creating anything, no dear. They only want us sitting there like rocks. They keep all books under the keys and locks, And try t’enstill pervasive s...

  • Examples from Literature (Mature)

    With a slight touch of grim satisfaction, I surveyed the poor, writhing creature bound before me. “What do you want from me?” he demanded weakly, edging into the back of his folding chair. “A little reimbusement of sorts,” I rep...

  • Inspiration, or Lack Thereof (sonnet)

    As far as my inspiration will go, Right now I do beweep its dried-up state. I wish that I had more to share and show, But oh, alas, it’s all I have to date. They call it Writer’s Block out on the street, Although, to us, it’s torture,...

  • Initially Speaking

    Once I decided that my penname stuck, I realized something: it was just a teeny bit intimidating to try and read, and just a little cumbersome to type. So I eventaully decided to sign off on things as “g2 (lpi).” Just a few keystrokes, noth...

  • The Dodgy Hotel

    I had no intention of spending the night at that hotel in any case. I’d decided that regardless of my current circumstances, in spite of anything else that might befall me, I would not accept lodgings in that dodgy old shack. Of course, Lady Fort...

  • Morning Peace

    Morning silence, a cup of good mint mate, the need to practice piano, the promise of a good morning… Life is good, indeed.

  • A Faraway Parallel

    I was down in Manhattan, visiting my friend Lottie. She had some other friends over, whom I’d never met, so she graciously offered some introductions. “Jenna, these are Penny & Ned. They’re from the Island. This is Jenna, she̵...

  • That's What the Imagination is For, Isn't It?

    Sigh. It felt like only yesterday that we met. Something just seemed to click. We had the same sense of humor, could understand each other’s quirks. I can’t recall when I’ve had such interesting conversation with someone (who is not related to me...

  • The Maestro's Birthday

    I saw the old man, his hair wild, crouched over a piano. I was unsure whether to approach the great man, but the music had latched onto me, beckoned me towards him. It wasn’t before long until I was standing in “the spot;” the perfect spot about ...

  • The Great Guru of the East

    My walking stick & I finally made it up the Indian mountain. We had traveled all the way here to consult the famed guru of the East. I slowly approached the guru in his cave, bowing before the tiny little man. He looks like Gandhi. “O Great Guru ...