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Mini Sledgehammer July 2017

Chris has become a familiar face at Chris SmithIndigo events lately, particularly our weekly Sit Down, Shut Up, and Write event and our monthly happy hours. It’s great to see him at Mini Sledgehammer now too, especially winning!

***

Prompts:
Character: Church choirs back up baritone
Setting: behind a screen door
Prop: Black Bat
Phrase: “That can’t be real”

***

Young and Discovering

by Chris Smith

 

FADE IN:

INT. DAY- NIGHT

Charlie is sitting at his computer watching a video with
his friend Alex hunched over him watching in awe.

ALEX

I don’t know how you find this kind of
stuff. Not that I really want to know.

CHARLIE

Trust me it’s a mystery to me too. But
that’s the internet for you. Just a few
clicks can lead you down a very…
interesting path.

The two teenage boys continue to watch the images on the
screen that seem to flash by them.

ALEX

How is that even possible. Like where did
she put it!

CHARLIE

I know, right! It just straight up
disappeared into her.

Beat.

CHARLIE CONT.

Every thought of doing something like
that?

Alex looks at him confused.

ALEX

I mean it looks interesting. These women
sure have a lot of skill to be doing this
all the time, I mean…

Something on the screen catches his eye.

ALEX CONT.

Holy shit! Look at her with that bat. That
black one really knows how to work it!
That can’t be real!

CHARLIE

I know! She is definitely the best on of
the group. But again. Would you do this in
like real life?

Charlie looks Alex right into his eyes with a smirk on his
face. Alex stares nervously back at him.

ALEX

I…I don’t know. I mean it seems pretty
cool to try out with someone, but I… I
can’t. Like I’ve finally made it to a
prime position in the church: backup to
the backup baritone in the choir. I don’t
really want to lose it because of…

Alex gets distracted by the blurred images that continue to
whirl around on the screen in front of them.

Charlie continues to stare more at Alex than at the screen
with a mix of interest and wonder.

CHARLIE

You know, I could help you out with it. At
least the first time.

Alex finally tears his eyes from the computer to look at
Charlie confused.

ALEX

Like you, know how do anything that these
women are doing?

CHARLIE

Well not exactly, but I’ve been watching
it for years, so I’ve learned a lot.

ALEX

I just don’t think it’s something for me.
I mean it looks fun and stuff, just… I
don’t think I’m that talented.

CHARLIE

See that’s the thing, you are talented
enough to do it. You need to stop living
your life behind a screen door just
watching and step outside for once. At
least that’s what the main one always
says.

They stare intensely at each other for a moment.

ALEX

Okay, okay fine. Only if you are there to
help me out.

CHARLIE

Sure, whatever you want.

They stare at each other for a moment before returning to
the screen.

ALEX

What’s the main one’s name again?

Charlie laughs a little.

CHARLIE

RuPaul.

The boys continue to watch RuPaul’s Drag Race in awe of the
performances of the queens.

FADE OUT:

THE END

©2017 Chris Smith

***

I’m an aspiring filmmaker and writer from South Florida. I enjoy crafting stories about the weird yet interesting mundane parts of life, whether it is visually or on the page. When not writing, I can be found taking photos around town or binging on TV show and movies.

Mini Sledgehammer September 2016

The first Mini Sledgehammer was in September, so I guess that makes this month our anniversary! Congratulations to Joseph Aldred for winning the anniversary Mini Sledgehammer.

***

Prompts:
Character: A guard
Action: Blowing one’s nose
Setting: A factory
Prop: A cabbage

***

Untitledjoseph-mini-sledge

by Joseph Aldred

“I hate these late nights,” Jacob said, flicking the flash light on and of a few times before setting it back on the desk.

“Yeah, well you coulda guessed there would be a few of those with this job Earl,” Izzy said not looking up from the Batman comic she had read more than her fair share of times. “Personally, I prefer not having to be around people.”

“I didn’t expect I would be swinging the grave shift every week though.” He had been looking at one of the monitors, wondering briefly what all those machines meant. He sniffed and wiped his nose with the sleeve of the marine blue jacket. “I’ll be happy when the get done with my jacket, maybe you’ll stop calling me that. What do they do here anyway?”

“Make something–I don’t care; I just make sure nobody makes off with anything.”

“Anybody ever break in or cause problems?”

“Naw–well one time, some kids were fooling around in the parking lot, drinking, smoking–just fucking around ya know.”

“What’d you do?”

She looked up over the top of the page where Batman had just socked Joker one and was in the process          of tying him up.  She laughed a harsh laugh, “I joined em, what do you think?”

“Christ, how old were they?”

“I don’t know, high school or something. I didn’t buy them the booze and they were willing to share if I let them stay. Why don’t you take a walk around and check things out? I’ll stay here and hold down the fort.”

“Mom sent sandwiches and other snacks if you want.”

“What’s on em?”

“Turkey, cheese, that spicy mustard she likes. You know, the usual–I think she even threw in some Oreos for you.” Izzy had been an eternally ongoing love affair with them and all their artery clogging goodness since middle school, like many kids.

“Ha mom, of course she would add those. You’d think I was the one with a new job, not you. Why do you let her do that stuff anyway?”

“You know, she likes to feel needed,” Jacob said sniffling his almost perpetually runny nose. He turned to leave the security office, one hand pressing the door half way open before he turned back, “two of the sandwiches had cabbage, she didn’t have any lettuce and I don’t think she marked any of them.”

“I think I’ll be okay, you said Oreo and all thoughts of food stopped there.”

“She said not to let you eat just those.” He sniffled again and pushed open the door to leave.

“And I’m sure you’ll run right home and tell her. How’s she doing anyway?”

“She’s been holding up okay, talks about you coming over sometime for dinner ya know.” He sniffed again and rubbed slowly at his nose.

“You know that’s gross, just go blow your nose already.”

“I hate the way my ear’s pop.”

“Just do it and be done with already.”

“I’ll do it after you eat one of those sandwiches and take it easy on those cookies–they’ll give you a heart attack.”

“We’ll see, go have a look around, blow your nose in peace, and I’ll sit here keeping an eye on how Mr. J is doing.”

Jacob pushed through the door, pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket as he walked, hitched up his pants and put the cotton to his nose.

© 2016 Joseph Aldred

***

Joseph Aldred lives in Vancouver, Washington. By night he is a writer, by day he is a writer only when his boss isn’t around. He loves to eat sushi with his kids and to drink the occasional bottle of cider. He works freelance creating content for the web.

Mini Sledgehammer September 2014: “The Vacation of a Lifetime”

Thanks to everyone who came out for 36 minutes of writing competition in September! Congratulations to winner Kent Nightingale.

Prompts
Character: An imposter
Action: The moon
Setting: Starting over
Phrase: “Don’t tell me…”

***

The Vacation of a Lifetime

by Kent Nightingale

“Don’t ever tell me this wasn’t exciting enough for you, Dale.”

“Okay, Chuck, I’ll try to keep that in mind. Honestly I thought there would be more mountains and caves in this place. It’s kind of like Kansas.”

“Well shit, I don’t know what to tell you. Next time we’ll buy tickets to Jupiter. I hear the weather there keeps one guessing.”

Flights to the general public had gone on sale in 2024, but it was another ten years before Chuck could afford two tickets to the moon, wealthy as he was. He was a practical guy in that sense. Always shopping for a bargain. He’d have bought a one-way ticket if it were more cost effective. Funny thing is, even in a far out place like the Earth’s only natural satellite, a tourist is a tourist. They began their days swimming in the hotel pool, gazing out the impressive walls of glass into the blackness of space.

After breakfast, a menu of UFO cakes and Marshan juice, they waited in the terminal for their daily tour. A vehicle not so different than a minivan, with enormous treaded tires, set forth on highway L62. Traffic was a bit thick getting out of Portland, the moon’s largest city, but once they got on the open road, the perspective was impressive indeed.

“You know,” said Chuck, “for years I’ve had the notion that I’ve wanted the chance to start over. I really feel this trip might be a turning point for me, now that my divorce is over with.”

“It is” Dale replied. “It really is.” This meant a great deal to Chuck, as there were few people on Earth, or elsewhere for that matter, that knew him as well as Dale.

Though English was the official language of the moon, few of the service staff were fluent, so the men reached for their headsets, to receive the audio portion of their tour.

“Ahead you will see King’s Crater, a place any man could call home. Inside it’s underground bunker are all the essentials a human requires to live in health and harmony. Most individuals find themselves well-adjusted within a month.”

Chuck removed his headphones and grabbed Dale by the arm. Inside his heart an alarm was sounding.

“I would have told you if I could,” Dale whispered. “I couldn’t come to live here by myself, with not a friend in the world.”

Chuck only stared ahead, his face devoid of any expression.

© 2014 Kent Nightingale

***

profile_pic_2013Kent is a musician, songwriter, and outdoor enthusiast from Portland, Oregon.

Mini Sledgehammer August 2014: Blackbird Wine & Atomic Cheese

While the judges were mulling over the big Sledgehammer stories, we held a Mini Sledgehammer in Portland. Thanks to everyone who showed up!

***

Prompts:
Character: The warden
Action: Peeling back
Setting: Train car
Phrase: “Do that again and I will…”

Congratulations to Daniel Granias, who took the prizes, not for the first time!

***

It hadn’t struck us that it was illegal per se to live in a train yard. When we first arrived we’d set up camp in an open freighter that had been retired from the coal lines from Union Pacific. We had nothing more than our matching denim frame packs that we’d been issued by the foster center in Colorado. Charlie, my little sister, and I had hitchhiked our way to the northwest after the Colorado wildfires had smoked us out of our center. It had been a week before we’d seen any trace of life in the yards, and when it did, it was in the form of an old, saggy bloodhound, jowels sweeping the gravel, having traced our soot footprints to our car.

“Shhhh—shhhh—shhh…. Easy there fella,” I said. The hound first glanced at me, swooped its head back to the south, then returned its drooping eyes to Charlie, and let out a “wooo-rooo-ruugh” kind of grumble.

“Shut up!” Charlie whisper-yelled, “Do that again and I’ll tie your ears to your tail!” Not a fan of this proposition, the bloodhound lifted its nose to the sky and let out a warbling bellow of a howl.

“Who’s ‘ayre, Buckeye?” came a sharp beckon from behind the line of tracked cars south of our camper.

At that we ran, sending a combination of coal dust clouds and gravel confetti at the dog and warden, who presented himself in hot pursuit, clad in olive security uniform and mirrored aviator sunglasses.

Dodging and weaving between cars, tracks, and gates, Charlie and I headed for the station, where we could get lost in the everyday traffic of passengers and pedestrians. But before we could get through the last stretch, Charlie tripped over a set of tracks and cried out. I had been leading, and y the time I heard her cry I was at least forty yards ahead. Peeling back, the bloodhound was making as fast a gain on my 8 year old sisters as I, and it was only a second before he made to pounce that I was able to grab her and throw her over my shoulder as I made way for the station.

After bursting through the door, we ran into the lobby, only to run straight into a team of officers meeting in the lobby.
“Where do you kids think you’re going?” One asked.

“We don’t know, sir.” I said, confessionally.

A second guard took a close look at the label on Charlie’s tattered frame pack, and mentioned, “You kids from Boulder?”

How did he know?

“Yeah I was stationed there not too long ago, my wife knew them folks that ran that youth center. We can get you back home there if y’like.”

By that time the original warden had entered the group.

“you left this behind.” And he handed my pack.

© 2014 Daniel Granias

Mini Sledgehammer March 2014: Blackbird Wine & Atomic Cheese

This month’s winner, A. L. Adams, used the prompts in interesting ways, and we love the twist this second-person story takes.

Character: The person no one expected
Setting: Where everything is topsy-turvy
Prop: Untied shoelaces
Phrase: Watch your step!

***

Watch your step when you go down to the boathouse. In the winter, the stairs are frosty; in the summer the top ones are mossy and the ones at the waterline are often beslimed. If you want me to escort you, Nan, I will.  I’ll hold your and and slip my arm under your elbow to support you as we climb.

The boats are closer now; the tide is higher so they make free with more of the space. The Tollycraft wears a green visor; the tugboat’s got that brick­red stripe, designed to disguise whatever rust. No, Nan; we’re not getting on them. Yes, Nan, they are “quite a sight.” The trees? We could cross the bridge to see those trees, but remember? You didn’t like that last time. Yes, Nan, the rocks are dirty but no, we can’t clean them. Those are barnacles. See how they’re so stuck­-on?

Now let’s go in the boathouse so you won’t get too cold. We’ll open the door so you can still see the boats. This door seems stuck—no, i’m creaking it open…Hey. Everything’s in disarray. The ropes are unlooped and flung like shoelaces. Our little skiff is turned halfway over, gagging on water. The other boat…Another boat? We don’t have one! But there it is, another boat, hull­up on the concrete walkway like a space invader’s pod. Wait…I know that boat. Oh, God! It’s rolling over!

Dad?

Oh, God; how long have you been here? We didn’t know your sentence was up.

What the fuck do you mean, “It’s not?” Pardon my French, Nana, but Dad. What the FUCK.

Nana—no, it’s okay Honey. This is Wallace. Yes you do. Your son.

Dad. Fuck. We never saw you, okay?

We’re just…okay okay. Nana Honey? We saw the boats and now we’re going. That’s it; very good. I’ve got your hand, Dear.

Watch your step now as we go up these stairs.

They can be slippery.

Yes. I know.

©2014 A. L. Adams

 

A. L. Adams daylights as an art spy for the Portland Mercury and Oregon ArtsWatch. She moonlights as many things, and has more than a few stories.