Weirdly Contest runs until midnight December 14.
Contest rules posted Friday, December 7.
Prize is a paperback copy of Weirdly: A Collection of Strange Stories (Tales).
Entry #1: Chumplet/ Sandra Cormier.
They stood around her like silent sentinels, bowing low, observing her. Beth craned her neck and studied each tree with the eye of a child guessing which adult had witnessed her illicit foray into the kittylitter box.
One resembled Sauron. Its helm spiked skyward and light shone through its eyes. No, it looked more like one of the Knights of Ni. She half expected it to start chanting "Ni! Ni!" in a falsetto voice.
She giggled. Long fingers curled against the slate sky, waving. They snatched her voice and flung it into the wind.
Another reminded her of her Grade Two teacher, Mrs. Houlieff. Ponderous breasts threatened to tilt her stout body forward while thick arms rose as if in supplication.
Clouds were different. They shaped themselves like bunnies and horses, not twisted old men and armless women, these ghosts of Sherwood Forest.
Beth shivered and drew her sweater around her. She wondered if they had watched Robin Hood so closely. No – they were old, but not that old. Maybe these were the grandchildren of Robin Hood's hiding places. Maybe, if she poked carefully around the roots, she might find a coin or a ring discarded by the Prince of Thieves.
You're just a silly girl. She found a soft patch of long yellowed grass and sat, leaning against a dry driftwood-like trunk. She opened her canvas bag and drew out her book.
Thundering hoofbeats and ringing metal sounded in her ears as she began to read.
Entry #2: Bernard DeLeo:
“I’m telling you, Jill, I saw it,” the teenaged boy whispered urgently, having pulled his dark haired girlfriend behind a tree.
“A space ship? C’mon Pete, give me a break,” Jill retorted, disbelief plain in her voice. “Maybe next time we make out in the woods, you ought to close your eyes.”
“Very funny…” Pete said hesitantly, peering around the tree. “You explain the noise, the trees with their tops shaved off, and that plume of smoke in the distance.”
“Weather balloon,” Jill stated immediately, running her hand up under Pete’s t-shirt, gently stroking his back. “Even if it was a flying saucer, what the hell can we do about it?”
“We’ll go take a quick look, and then report what we see,” Pete replied, stepping out, only to be yanked back by Jill.
“Listen, Obi-Wan,” Jill smiled up at Pete, while moving both hands up under his shirt, “maybe instead of breaking the cardinal rule of horror films and rushing into the unknown horror, we ought to kick back here for the time being.”
With blood rushing away from his brain, Pete allowed Jill to draw him into a torrid embrace where he forgot all about alien landings. Fifty feet away, unheard and unseen, two small gray creatures, resembling Steven Spielberg’s ET, looked at each other knowingly.
“What do you think, Xanic?” The slightly taller one asked its companion.
“Let’s snap a few pictures and get the hell off this rock,” Xanic answered, raising a recording device into position