- J. Thomas Ganzer | @J_Thomas_Ganzer
- Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
- Barbe Crabtree
- Cara Michaels | @caramichaels
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Robin Abess
- Keturah Lamb | @KeturahAbigail
- Mary Decker | @mishmhem
- Mileva Anastasiadou | @happymil_
- Mark A. Morris
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- Tari Jewett | @TariLynnJewett
Anne says: This piece unfolded at just the right pace with the reveal at just the right time. It hit that "oh shit" moment just right. Well done.
Cara Michaels | @caramichaels
Anne says: The weariness of the protagonist is painted only in dialogue, and it's done in only a handful of actual sentences on the protagonist's part. Well crafted.
Tari Jewett | @TariLynnJewett
Anne says: #73's anxiety, hesitation, and reluctance were palpable. The whole atmosphere of the "game show" came through strongly in very few words. Great work.
Mary Decker | @mishmhem
Anne says: I read this one multiple times, and I laughed every time. One of the hard things about writing humor is resisting the urge to explain your jokes to the reader, and the M.T. Decker just laid it out there and left it for the reader to enjoy. I'm laughing again just thinking about poor Mortimer.
Mortimer Pendergast hated his name. He hated haunted houses and security guards, but he hated his name more. Mortimer was sure everything he hated could be traced directly to his name.
When the police officer warned him about the haunted house he’d stood his ground. He had every right to be there— one million dollars was at stake. He was going to spend the night.
The officer walked away, his hands in the air, as if he was giving up. It should have been a sign, but Mortimer wouldn’t listen.
Inside the old Victorian, Mortimer found furnishings from long ago. The place may have been haunted, but someone was caring for it.
He spent the first few hours exploring until he found the best place to set up. As he rolled out his sleeping bag, he heard a voice call out.
“You should leave…”
He frowned, shook his head and continued settling in. As he stretched out heard the voice again, “Yule leaves too knight.”
“I’m Mortimer Pendergast,” he answered indignantly. “Yule isn’t for another three months. Now let me sleep!” he yelled before he punched his pillow and flopped down.
“You’ll leave tonight.”
“It’s almost Halloween, there are no knights, so shut up and leave me alone,” Mortimer screamed into the dark.
In the backroom, the ghost sighed as she punched out. She’d tried.
“He’s mortified of fender gas,” the ghost reported to the night shift demons, it was up to them. She’d clean up in the morning.
Congratulations Five Time Winner Mary, and Honorable Mentions Robin, Cara, and Tari! Don't forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!
Next week is July 4th and the week after I'll be on vacation with family so y'all have two weeks off. I'll see you in three weeks. :)
Pass on the great news on Twitter, Facebook, Google Plus, shiny mirrors, Morse Code, and signal flags. Check out all the original tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by and happy reading! :)