Underdogs

Lora stared at her computer screen and sighed. Her English teacher was an old crackpot and this assignment was the worst.

Imagine you are your grandparent’s age. What is your favourite movie? Why?

Lora was sixteen. How was she supposed to imagine herself as an old lady?

Lora had never known her parents and the great people who’d adopted her hadn’t had any living relatives. And they’d been killed by a jerk texting and driving. Now she was stuck in a group foster home and supposed to think like grandparents she never knew anything about.

But she needed top grades if she was going to get scholarships. Foster kids didn’t have money for college and she wanted to get a degree. She wanted to make sure she always had a job and a home. Ditching even one assignment could jeopardize that.

At least she had the internet. Most people probably had favorite movies from when they were kids. She searched popular movies from the sixties and seventies, hoping something there wouldn’t be incredibly lame.

A couple of the movies surprised her. She hadn’t realized Jaws and Star Wars and Grease were so ancient. Would an older lady like one of them?

Lora had seen Star Wars before and she liked it. Her adopted dad had been a huge sci-fi fan and she’d seen the whole series of movies at least once.

The foster home had some streaming so she pulled up the original movie and watched it again. She hated crying, but couldn’t stop the tears as she remembered sitting with Jane and Rick watching the movie. Jane used to tease him that he wanted to be a swashbuckler like Han Solo. He’d tease right back saying Jane was strong enough to be a leader like Leia.

Right now, Lora felt a little like Luke who was also an orphan and then he’d lost his aunt and uncle too.

As she watched, Lora kept notes for what the movie was about. For what an older person might like.

The underdog winning.

Dealing with losing your family.

Wanting to have a bigger life.

Wanting to be the best.

Wanting to help your friends and your people.

Teamwork.

Good versus evil.

Accepting people for who they were, not what species they were from.

Would an older lady like all that? Would she still remember the movie?

Lora wished she had some experience with older people. Crackpot should have thought of that before making the assignment. Not everyone had access to generations of family.

Eventually, she wiped her tears and started to write her essay.

The knock on the door startled her. The lady in charge of the night shift at the home opened her bedroom door with a smile. “Hey Lora. It’s late. You okay?”

She wiped her face again before turning around. Eesha was always nice to everyone and she didn’t want her to think anything was wrong. “I’m okay. Just finishing up an essay.”

Eesha laughed softly. “You always work so hard, Lora. I can’t wait to see what you accomplish in the future. No matter what you choose, you’re going to be a star. Keep an eye on the time, it’s a school day tomorrow.”

Lora nodded and looked back at her screen, at her final line.

Star Wars might be an old movie, but it’s one that people might still be watching in another fifty years. We always want to see the little guys win.

Lora saved her work and turned off the computer. When she crawled into bed, she decided she was going to be one of those little guys who won.

***

Tagline: Everyone loves an underdog

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I've loved Star Wars from the first moment I watched it in the theatre. Because of its setting and its message, it doesn't surprise me that the franchise continues to grow and thrive. George Lucas created an amazing view of the past with these stories.

If you've come from the WEP site, you already know that this will be the last WEP Challenge.

It's been an honour to work with the team over the past couple of years. Denise, Renée, Nila, Laura, Olga, and Sonia are amazing people with a passion for stories. Thank you to every one of you for everything you've done for this writing community.

To our challenge participants, it's been a privilege to read your stories for these challenges. I've learned a lot from all of you and I thank you for sharing your words with us. I look forward to reading your words in the future too.

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Wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season with warmth and love and family and magic. Take care of yourselves and each other!

WEP & Harry's Mission

Nothing was going to stop Harry from achieving his mission. He’d planned every step. It had taken him days and days. Now, he had to make sure no one messed it up.

He ate all his supper. Even the broccoli.

He scraped off his plate. Put it in the dishwasher.

He didn’t splash in the bath.

Well, not too much.

Harry put on his new pajamas. The feet were a little too long, but he’d be careful.

At bedtime, he only asked for one extra story.

Then he waited.

Waiting was hard.

So was staying awake.

Harry pinched his toes and counted all the way to a hundred.

He whispered his plan to Marshall, but the stuffed Dalmatian didn’t have any ideas on how to stay awake.

When he’d waited forever, he looked at his clock. The first number was a nine. Or was it a six? He traced the number on his hand like his teacher had shown him. It was a nine.

That had to be late. No one could stay awake until nine.

Harry hugged Marshall for luck and then snuck out of bed. The nightlight helped him see and he peeked into the hall. Lights were still on downstairs but they’d have to leave them on tonight.

Harry slid to the side of the stairs and held the banister tight. His pjs were a little slippery but he only fell once on his way down.

When he reached the bottom, he looked down the hall. No one. He tiptoed into the living room and grinned. No presents were under the tree yet. He wasn’t too late.

Harry went straight to his hiding place, between the two chairs and in front of the bookshelf. Then he sat down to wait some more. He was going to see Santa’s face for the first time. All he had to do was not fall asleep.

Harry jerked awake when something wet touched his face. He tried to roll away, but the wet followed him. When something barked, Harry opened his eyes as the dog licked him again. A Dalmatian. Just like Marshall. “Did Santa bring you?”

The dog woofed and jumped in Harry’s lap.

Mom and Dad came into the room with their coffee cups. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“Did Santa bring me a puppy?”

“Didn’t you see Santa?”

“No.” He must have fallen asleep after all. He hadn't seen Santa's face.

Mom picked up a red paper from the plate where they’d left the cookies. “Looks like Santa left you a note.”

“What does it say?”

“Maybe next year.”

Harry nodded and hugged the Dalmation. "I'll see him next year."

***

Tagline: Harry's on a mission to see a face for the first time

The above is part of the WEP challenge First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. Please check out the links to read the other entries into the challenge. There's lots of time to join as the entries will be open from Dec 1-15. I hope you'll join in the fun!!!

Hey, Thrillers!

 Lindsay swallowed hard and looked into the camera. “Hey Thrillers. It’s been a fun year broadcasting with you. Just wanted to let you know that, in case this is our last video. Ever.”

Julie laughed and switched the feed to her own camera. “Hey everyone. Can you believe the woman who dove with hungry sharks and climbed into a derelict mine in search of treasure is afraid of a cemetery?”

“Those are thrills. This is spooky stuff. Not my thing at all.”

Julie lit up her face with the flashlight beneath her chin. “But it is mine. And you lost the coin toss.”

All true.

Julie smirked. “Okay, Thrillers, you’ve been watching the live stream of the cabin for hours now. No one has entered or exited since we checked it out together before sunset. Now, it’s five minutes before midnight.”

Lindsay sighed heavily. “On All Hallow’s Eve, when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. When spirits have the best chance of crossing that veil with a full moon to light their way.”

Julie made a Wooo sound and Lindsay glared at her. Julie lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper while she looked at the camera. “Okay, Thrillers, we’re moving in. Approaching the cabin as the clock ticks closer to midnight. Lindsay, remind our viewers about the legend.”

Lindsay blew out a breath and steadied her voice. “Here, deep in the swamps surrounding New Orleans, the line between reality and the supernatural is always thin. Voices lure you in far deeper than you planned to go. Mists rise from the ground, sneaking between the plants and reaching ever upward.”

Lindsay panned her camera down and around, showing the old forest and the mists. The full moon made the pictures perfectly creepy and she had to work to keep her voice level. “On this night seven times seven times seven years ago, in 1679, a family lived here. The youngest was the seventh son of a seventh son.”

Julie grinned and picked up the tale. “The number seven has power. Young Caleb Bouchard felt it growing inside. He’d told his parents but they urged him to keep it quiet, to never use his powers, to never let others know. But Caleb was two times seven years of age and oh, so sure of his control. Sure that he was a good person and that the power would do as he commanded.”

When Julie nodded to her, Lindsay continued. “Caleb decided the night of All Hallow’s Eve would be the day he’d show them all that his power was good. He waited for the stroke of midnight, waited for the moon to shine. And then he called for the spirits to cross. Called for them to rid the world of those who would harm others. Called for them to spare those of good heart.”

Julie whispered. “Witnesses heard terrible screams and saw flashing lights, but there was no evidence of fire. No evidence of anything. Not Caleb. Not his family. Not a trace.”

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and Lindsay took over. “It’s almost midnight. Count it down with us.”

Julie put her hand on the door and slowly twisted it as Lindsay counted. “Five, four, three, two, one. Midnight.”

Julie threw open the door and light bloomed from inside, flashing and changing. A hideous howl filled the night and Julie jumped back with a shriek.

Then the iconic first beats of Michael Jackson’s Thriller filled the air and Lindsay couldn’t keep in the laughter anymore.

It took Julie about three seconds before she joined in. Then she moved to stand beside Lindsay with a playful swat on her arm. She tapped her hand over her heart and then smiled at the camera. “She got me. Just remember, payback is coming. Happy Halloween, Thrillers!”

***

Tagline: A legend of a Seventh Son of a Seventh Son

The above is part of the WEP Challenge for October! Be sure to click the links to get to more entries for the Challenge. This is always a favorite time of year for flash fiction. I hope you join in for this round!

WEP & Human Song

Humans were exhausting. Loud, obnoxious, destructive. The world would be a much better place without them but Liaka’s powers didn’t extend to genocide, even if the species deserved it. She fluttered over the trash scattered on the edge of her pond. Along their roads and everywhere they visited.

Did the species have a single redeeming quality? She hadn’t encountered one yet. Not that she’d encountered an actual human yet, either. The elders forbade it.

But Laika wanted to see them for herself. Wanted to see if the horrors she’d conjured in her imagination were close to their physical forms. Any being who created such destruction must be terrifying.

A shiver ruffled her body and her wings. She corrected her flight automatically and decided that even if these humans were terrifying, she needed a glance. The elders didn’t do anything to stop them. Once she saw them, maybe she could come up with a plan. A way to make them change.

If she could find proof they had no redeeming qualities, the elders could vanquish them. The shudder that shook her this time was more severe. Causing death was forbidden as it should be. While she wanted the humans gone, she didn’t want to be the force behind their destruction.

Could they change? Could they be redeemed? The elders were always trying to eliminate negative behaviours in the young like her. Maybe if she saw the humans, she could find a way to help them eliminate the bad behaviours.

Laika peeked over her shoulder but didn’t see any elders. Or anyone to tattle on her. The sun was high so she flew from the pond and to the edge of the forbidden territory.

The trees thinned and she spotted a human road through the trees. Her limbs trembled, but she flew on, darting from tree to tree and keeping to the shadows.

A sound reached her. A sound she’d never heard. Not a voice. Not an animal or a bird. Not one creature. A pleasant combination of sounds. Some reached high, others reached low. Fast then slow.

A series of sounds repeated and then repeated at a different level. Other sounds mixed in.

Laika settled on a tree branch and closed her eyes to listen. The sounds were beautiful. Like birdsong but different. Human song?

Did humans make song? How could a species make something so beautiful and be so destructive at the same time?

Laika’s wings fluttered with the song and tears slipped from her eyes from the beauty. The human song continued, building up and slowing down. Up and down like bird song. But different in a way she couldn’t explain.

When the human song ended, it took Laika a few moments to open her eyes. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and realized she wasn’t alone.

Jokila the elder sat on the tree branch beside her. Smiling.

“I’m sorry I broke the rules. I wanted to see the humans, to find out if they had any redeeming qualities, to find out if we could help them alter their behaviour to stop hurting our world.”

Jokila nodded, her own eyes shimmering with tears. “What do you think now?”

The sounds started again. Laika’s voice was hushed when she spoke. “Is that human song?”

Jokila nodded. “It is. They have many different human songs. This one is my favourite. They call it Moonlight Sonata.”

Moonlight Sonata. Even the name was beautiful. She didn’t know the word sonata but she would never forget it.

Laika nodded at Jokila. “Human song is beautiful. They are not all evil.”

Jokila nodded. “No, they’re not.”

“Can we help them? Do we have a plan?”

“Not yet. But with your help, maybe we will. It is getting late, we must return soon.”

Laika nodded. “After the Moonlight Sonata is finished?”

Jokila smiled and they listened to the human song while Laika worked on her plan.

***

Tagline: Does the species have any redeeming qualities?

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I hope you'll click on the link to check out the other contributions to our challenge. Please join in - we love to have new people!

The above is my odd-ball contribution to the August WEP Challenge Moonlight Sonata.

Life has been a little wacky-busy here and this was not my original thought for the sonata, but it's what flew out of my fingers 😊

I do believe the ability to create music is one of species' most redeeming qualities. Imagination is vital to being human and I love the various ways that imagination can showcase itself.

How about you? Any other music fans out there? Any one else hoping we humans can start fixing the messes we make?

WEP Challenge and Little Tommy

“You have the cutest baby ever. He should be in those commercials. They could sell anything using that face.”

Cindy and Tom smiled at each other. It seemed they weren’t just proud parents with a huge slice of bias. Their baby boy truly was adorable. Everyone said so.

Those big blue eyes. Jet black curls. Beautiful.

***

“Candy. I want candy.”

Little Tommy’s pout warned of stormy tears as Cindy stood in the checkout line. Her beautiful boy stared up at her from the grocery cart, those blue eyes shining. Cheeks rosy.

“You have such a handsome son. You’re a lucky mom.”

Tommy smiled at the cashier, and the woman smiled back.

As he charmed the lady, Cindy reached out and added a candy bar to her order.

***

“I want the blue one.”

Tom looked at the red shirt he’d picked up for his son and then to the blue on the rack. “I thought you’d like the dinosaurs on this one. You’d rather have the blue?”

Tommy nodded seriously. “Yes. It matches my eyes.”

Tom laughed, ruffled his son’s curls, and changed out red for blue.

***

Tommy held the truck behind his back. “It’s mine.”

“I had it first!”

Tommy shook his head. “I have it. It’s mine.”

“Now, boys. No fighting. Tommy will have the first turn, you can have it next, Kev.”

***

“Tommy has been struggling to keep his attention on his studies this term.”

Cindy and Tom exchanged a look. “How can we help?”

The teacher smiled. “Well, if you could keep the girls away from him, that would probably help.”

Everyone chuckled. “The girls are always calling the house as well. One even dropped off cookies for him on the weekend.”

“He’s a good-looking kid. There’s probably more of that in his future.”

***

Tommy checked his hair in the mirror he’d installed in his room. The bathroom had better lighting, but his parents were always complaining he spent too long getting ready for things.

They didn’t get it. It was important to always look his best.

***

Tommy gave his best smile to his grandparents. They liked to see him smile.

He even let them pinch his cheeks.

They always slipped him money when they visited.

***

“I prefer to be called Thomas.”

“But, Tommy, you’ve always…”

“I will no longer answer to that name.”

“Okay, Thomas.”

***

“My eyes are halfway through a blink. I need you to retake the photo.”

The clerk frowned at the picture and pointed to the sign that stated unless eyes were fully closed, the picture couldn’t be retaken.

Thomas smiled the way he’d perfected in the mirror. The smile that gave him the maximum results.

The clerk smiled back and the second picture was perfect.

***

Thomas checked his appearance one last time before heading out to pick up the girl. He’d told her to leave her hair down. When she wore it that way, she was the prettiest girl in the school.

He’d told her to choose a blue dress so they would match. His shirt and tie were the perfect shades. They would make a striking couple.

Their pictures would be the best.

***

Thomas selected his courses carefully. All it had taken was a bit of research to find the perfect professors.

It was an easy thing to cruise the internet, find their bios, and check out their pictures.

Adults were easy to figure out. He knew which ones he could work with and which ones would be more difficult. His degree would be a piece of the proverbial cake.

***

Thomas looked out the windows of his penthouse.

Christmas lights were lit across the city. Cindy and Tom had wanted him to cross the state to visit with them. Spend a day traveling to put up with annoying small talk and overcooked turkey.

He’d rather be exactly where he was. He had a dozen invitations but had yet decided which would be most beneficial and least annoying. He might stay in and enjoy his own company. It was far better than idiotic small talk.

Thomas lifted his wine glass and toasted his reflection in the window.

Tagline: Bringing up Tommy, the tale of a narcissist. 

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The above is part of the WEP Challenge for December. I really struggled with a story for this prompt! It's always interesting to see which prompts bring stories quickly to mind and which have me really reaching for an idea!

I hope you join in the Challenge for the month! Because it's a busy season for many around the world, we've extended the posting dates from December 1st to the 15th. That will give everyone time to write, post, and enjoy the other stories.

I'm looking forward to seeing how others interpreted the prompt!

We've decided on the prompts for next year and I think you're going to love them!