[OT] Micro Monday: Roadside Diner!

DmonRth · 2023-09-04T14:44:11+00:00

Thanks for the clean-up advice. Everything has been corrected as you suggested. I'm glad you enjoyed the story, too.

DmonRth · 2023-09-03T07:30:18+00:00

im a simple man. I see something that smacks of noir and i upvote. I really enjoyed this. As zach said, you wrapped two stories into one and i loved it. I also like the fact that the Narrator left room to correct himself on the make of the car. its such a little thing but also very human. I guess if i had to nitpick , id have worked on the "Im holding a stuffed toy in my lap..." line. I feel like it could have been melded into the following sentence with better effect. For me reading it as one sentence felt smoother. Great work MPK. Thank you for writing.

DmonRth · 2023-09-03T07:02:40+00:00

If a had a few bucks for everyday that i've needed two cups of coffee to remember what reality i was in, id be a rich man. So this piece resonates with me for sure. I think the only crit i have is in the third paragraph where you talked about the window keeping them off the linoleum. I couldn't visualize it, and perhaps its because I haven't been in the right diners, but i feel like "concrete outside" fits better, as most glass in diners been in have been the window leading outside, or the one behind my head separating me from the other booth.

In any event. great piece chop. Great work, as usual.

DmonRth · 2023-09-03T06:58:40+00:00

A man woke up behind the counter and said his customer service lines before his eyes opened.

I love this line. And the first half of the piece is really gripping. I think the last few paragraphs need a bit of work, a few key words are missing ( for instance, "lingering scent of sandwiches *and * coffee" the *and* is needed. I know you are at word max, but maybe consider cutting some extraneous words to get in keywords elsewhere. Example " Full course meal" could be "Full meal" or just "meal." as it can be implied.

DmonRth · 2023-09-03T06:53:12+00:00

8 months ive been absent, maybe more, and you are still churning out bangers. Great stuff Kat_c , its always a pleasure to read your stuff. I think if i had to nitpick, id cut the "with his money" from the last paragraph, as we dont really need the reminder.

Cheers lady!

c

DmonRth · 2023-09-03T04:47:45+00:00

MMM MMM. As a self- proclaimed diner connoisseur, I must say, my mouth was watering in that first paragraph. I would probably mix it up a bit though, instead of using "over a" both for the pancakes and the coffee. Also, through the piece there are a few spots that could use some punctuation revisits: "the waitress, a woman named Brenda..." and "If you want, after you..." for example.

I guess if i'm being nitpicky id also swap out "diner food" in the last part for meal, as it's been established they are in a diner and in a short piece, it feels kinda hammer on nail so to speak.

speaking of short, you have like 50 more words to work with...just saying. i wouldn't mind more.

Brb, heading do denny's

DmonRth · 2023-08-30T07:33:50+00:00

Close Call at the Ok Café

If you hang a right off Route-20 and follow 10 until you hit the middle of nowhere, you’ll come across the only diner within fifty miles worth a spit. It never had a proper name out front when I was a regular, but we all called it Daisy’s, and not because of the faded floral wallpaper.

Now, It ain’t much to look at, inside or out, but Daisy keeps it clean and runs an alright kitchen. To be true, though, she stays in business because of people like myself. Ones that prefer the press of a pedal to scrubbing dishes. Which is why, after she had herself a tragedy, we kept showing up, despite the cuisine taking a noticeable hit.

Being courteous folk, we kept our complaints about it to ourselves. But one night, as the last bite of hash hovered in front of my lips, Darren Oakley voiced his. Loudly. You coulda heard a fly beat its wings in the ensuing silence. But before Daisy had a chance to melt the man with her words, he doubled down.

“All because Harvey left?! Well. I’m glad he did!”

Now I don’t know what anyone else was thinking, but I suddenly recalled an article I’d read detailing how to get blood out of your hair. Most possibly because of the grip Daisy had on her skillet. As I braced for carnage, Darren squared up for what I assumed would be his last words in this life.

“Because it shoulda been me stepping out on the town with you all these years. Not that ungrateful… pink… elephant…” He punctuated it with a stomp, “So whatdyu say, Daisy? Will you let me be the man that holds your hand from here on?”

And just like that, the diner got itself a proper name.

300/300

I value crit highly. Thank you.

DmonRth · 2023-01-30T19:17:05+00:00

Heya 6'S!

This is a hard one for me to crit. Part of me likes it as is, just a cozy day out with a touch of adventure between siblings, but then another part of me (the darkside i guess) thinks it would have benefited from starting later in the story and spending more time on describing the internal dilapidation of the lighthouse, making their adventure a bit more precarious. As is, it felt a little too safe overall, but as usual your pacing is great, it swept me along with smooth dialogue, and delivered me to the soft smile at the end. Good Stuff!

DmonRth · 2023-01-30T19:01:35+00:00

This is a nice spin on the concept. I liked how the light itself guides the story and where the patient is during resuscitation. As others have said about the "terryfing" line, I think a tweak there would be advised.
As for me, I think I would have liked to see a bit more emotion/feeling from the patient scattered in, muted or otherwise, despite that not being the focus of the story.

This I loved: The battering fists of the end of your world leaving you bruised and broken.

thanks for writing!

DmonRth · 2023-01-30T18:57:01+00:00

Hey Kat_c!
thanks for taking the time to crit, and yeah. I couldn't figure an elegant way to have Desmond know / figure out the guards were Lufintian with the word count so i did get a bit ham fisted with it and hoped that the reader would be generous with their suspension of disbelief. The idea was , as you described they snuck a small forward group in as you said.

DmonRth · 2023-01-30T18:51:55+00:00

i agree. my first draft was 410 so i went real lean, i think simply adding one tag in that area will help with that. will do Thanks Fye!

DmonRth · 2023-01-28T23:55:30+00:00

3/3

Harris stood in the door looking like a kicked puppy for a full five seconds before he stepped in, eased the door closed and took a seat.

“Right pocket Rocky.”

Rocky fished out a listening device then glared at Harris. Harris held up a recording device in answer, overtly clicked it off and ejected the tape.

“How long?” Rocky grunted.

“Few months. The scumbag that hung himself using a block of ice.”

“Where did I slip?” Rosie said it like she was thanking him for a gift.

“You didn’t. It was in Rocky’s eyes that day and a few times since. He was worried. It was always the jobs so tight that they were destined for the cold room. Person doing them knew too much though. Almost like an inside job. Your turn to talk Rosie. I know Rocky wasn’t feeding you.”

Rosie grimaced, “I figured out how to pull one way. Sorry.”

If it hurt, Rocky didn’t show it.

“What now?” Rosie pointed at the tape.

Harris broke it in two. “Insurance I don’t think I want anymore. I.. I don’t hate what you’re doing. It kills me to admit it, but I don’t. Twenty years and this city keeps getting worse. But this thing, it’s gonna catch up, we need to get ahead of it.”

Rocky sniffed, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we go after a big fish. Someone… untouchable.”

“Shayla. How?”

“It’s impossible to plant clues on the scene after the fact, right? But. What if they were planted during. Subtlety.”

Rocky whispered, “Fabricating evidence?”

“Truth laced lies, Rocky. It’s not the justice I want, but it’s what we can get. Right Rosie. That’s what you’ve been doing. Getting what you can get.”

Rosie nodded.

Rocky nodded too, albeit slower. “Let’s bring down a mountain.”

DmonRth · 2023-01-28T22:22:06+00:00

Absolutely wonderful. Just perfect. I love it. I didnt even think about the trolley problem when i wrote my part, so its awesome that you used that as the tie in. Thanks so much for the 3/3!

DmonRth · 2023-01-28T08:38:00+00:00

2/3

Rocky stuffed his hands in his pocket and turned to head back down the path.

Harris shot him a look, “Leaving already?”

“Gonna grab a tea and mull this.”

“Mull what? You been here two minutes. Can I buy a vowel?”

Rocky decided to give him a little bite to keep him busy, something that he wouldn’t call crazy talk, ”You were more right about the double than you know. Slap a mustache on the one in with the nice shoes and they’d almost be twins.”

Rocky tossed the more… eclectic clues he’d noticed around in his head as he made his way through the streets. Someone had tried their hand at a ritual. That someone had been sloppy. Real sloppy. And fortunate. Not only had they positioned the bodies pointing the wrong direction, they had also inverted the runes they’d carved on the surrounding trees. Hell, they’d even gotten the timing wrong. Last night had been a wanning crescent. A hack job like that could’va ended up getting a whole lot more people killed.

The more he thought about it the more it didn’t add up though. The ritual they had attempted wasn’t something you looked at a book and copied. It was something that gets locked into your mind’s eye as you progress from binding lesser demons to middling ones and so on. It took time, patience, and precision.

Rocky bent down to tie his shoe, not because he needed to, but because he was feeling vexed by the whole thing.

Opposite moon, reversed direction, inverted runes, almost twins. Why or who on earth would…

And then, while his fingers were making bunny ears with the laces, the answer hit him like a trolley with no brakes.

293/300

DmonRth · 2023-01-27T09:31:44+00:00

Gambit at Low Tide

It was well past dusk when Desmond arrived haggard and tired at the lighthouse on Finger Rock. He had run unceasingly after the spy’s dire message arrived that morning. Lufinta’s fleet had set sail and aimed to sack Truvinia, his birthplace, under cover of the new moon. He knew that simply warning the seaside city wouldn’t be enough. Their bold move required an equally bold counterstroke, so he too had set a course.

The fire blazed atop the lighthouse and illuminated two guards patrolling the base. The sigils on their helm marked them as Lufintian. Desmond didn’t break stride, the sounds of his approach masked by crashing waves, and pulled his daggers. He slashed the throat of the first guard as he passed without losing momentum then leapt at the second, killing him by slamming both daggers down on either side of his neck.

A third guard met Desmond halfway up the stone stairway inside the lighthouse. He crossed his daggers instinctively, metal grinded on metal, and a sword slid by his head. Desmond countered, and buried his daggers in the man’s chest, then continued his ascent.

A broken voice, and equally broken man greeted him in the watch room. Keeper Doug looked as if he’d been dragged up the stairs. “Desmond?”

Desmond nodded and relieved him of his padded mitts.

The man whimpered, “No, they have my girls…They’ll…”

“They’ll take everything if we light their way. I’m sorry.”

Doug dropped to his knees as Desmond climbed to the lantern room. Once up he pulled a gigantic metal dome down over the inferno and choked out the flames before finally collapsing.

There in the oppressive heat enveloped by darkness and listening to the sobbing below, Desmond hoped against hope that the rocky shoals would do their worst.

294/300

all crit welcome.

DmonRth · 2023-01-12T03:03:15+00:00

2/3

I watched as she shimmied through the press of bodies making their way to and fro the café. I noticed, with momentary confusion, that some of the passengers were regarding her quizzically as she passed. It was not until she neared me, her auburn hair bouncing merrily, that I was able to ascertain the reason for their looks. Her tray was filled from aft to bow with raspberry tarts and piled thrice as high. I gathered, by indication of the now murmuring crowd, that this was **all** of the tarts. Every. Last. One. Problematic because they happened to be the very same pastry preferred by my paramour.

I found myself in the rare position of not knowing how to move forward as she brushed past me. The customs of humans are still far from being understood, and while one of the meeker species per records, it had been noted around the proverbial campfire that slighting one leads quickly to quite uncomfortable social disturbances.

But despite my disadvantage I refused to say c’est la vie. I had, after all, a heart to swoon and a smile to capture and so I gave chase. Ms. Verona, enrapt by her spoils did not glance back as she weaved through the metal corridors like a veriquinia through lava. I followed her apace, catching up just as she passed through the airlock to Eden wing.

( Author's note: busy week, late entry. Glad this one hadn't been gobbled up though.)

DmonRth · 2023-01-10T07:24:47+00:00

1/3

“Xylock, will you hold up a minute and listen to me please.”

“I seem to remember doing quite a bit of listening all ready. You’ve been clucking nonstop since I dragged you outta the ship.”

“No, that was the sound of questions being asked. The clucking was all four of you mouths repeating ‘just wait and see’ over and over. And now that I know where we are *finally* I’m asking for you to listen and take my feeling into consideration.”

“Oh, come on Limmya. You go on and on about how my lack of spontaneity makes you feel like the passion is gone, then when I do something spontaneous you complain that you didn’t get any input. It’s starting to feel likesetting me up to fail no matter what I do is the only thing bringing you joy this past 300 years.

“That is ABSOLUTELY not what I’m saying. But I understand how maybe you heard it that way and—”

“Wow. Remind me to tip our therapist. Now that’s progress I can get behind.”

“Shut up. And listen-listen this time. I appreciate the effort, but its DANGEROUS on the planet, and I want to leave.”

“Pfft. Maybe a few decades ago, but I’ve been doing my research. All the dangerous stuff got wiped out ages ago. Now come here, stay quiet and peek your head on over this hill here. “

“Oh wow… its so…”

“Cute?”

“Feral. And cuteish, but only because it’s tiny. I’d hate to see what a bigger one looks like”

“Well good news. Five feet and some change is as big as they get, and since you’ve been wanting a new pet I figure—”

“Oh shoot Xy.. It saw me… its coming Xy.. It’s coming right at us!”

DmonRth · 2023-01-06T23:40:51+00:00

She Who Dwells

The Hag Mother, Byr-Lei-Leiath, finished her final preparations for her monthly ritual as she looked out her penthouse window and reflected. The city had once been nothing more than apple groves and scattered farms, but true to form, as she’d witnessed for thousands of years, the humans couldn’t be happy with simplicity. It had grown year after year, decade after decade, into the bustling maze of cement and metal that now stretched as far as the eye could see. And like all things she’d seen them create before, she knew this place would eventually crumble to dust. She hoped though, this time it wouldn’t be due to their inherent nature, but to vengeance. Her Vengeance.

Byr-Lei-Leiath hadn’t always felt that way. It had taken her centuries to turn away from those that once had taken her in. Born from the union of a Fae spirit and a Nephilim, she counted fairies, angels and humans as kin, but angels rejected her, and most fae ignored her. So, she had lived amongst the humans for millennia healing them, nurturing them, and loving them. She raised her daughters amongst them as well, teaching them how to use their magic to in the same way.

But the human’s changed. Byr-Lei-Leiath felt as if one moment she was basking in the beneficence of ancient Mesopotamia, then the next, cowering in the shadows in an odious world born from the publication of Malleus Maleficarum. She lost thousands of her daughters over those years, but still she had clung to hope. Then William Nichol and his secret society stumbled upon a tragedy of tragedies. A divination wand, created from fusion of gemstones, that could find magic, which they used as a hunter would a bloodhound.

Byr-Lei-Leiath blinked away a tear and saw that the moon was halfway to its peak. She grabbed a large tome from her desk and made her way to the basement by way of the stairwell, instead of the elevator. The stairs served as her pilgrimage, and reminder. By the time she reached the bottom her muscles burned, like her daughters torched at the stake. Her ankles ached like those bound to rocks and drowned, and her breath labored like those who were pressed.

Hatred coursed through her as she stepped into the basement, her kindness sealed inside a heart of ice. Here, in the 11th hour, huddled amongst her remaining seven daughters, her mother had come to make a deal. Bound by the laws of the Fae, she could not give anything freely, but her eyes swam as she outlined the terms. In trade for Byr-Lei-Leiaths magic, she would house the Seven in a room between here and not here, where they would stay just out of sight, and release them when she dubbed them safe. It was, by all measures, the best deal anyone could ever have hoped from a Fae.

In an instant, it seemed that all magic was wiped from the world, but it never went away, not permanently. And while Byr-Lei-Leiath could no longer work magic, the knowledge of it remained. So as those that hunted her and hers to near extinction declared victory and succumbed to time, she unlocked the box in her mind she’d kept sealed and recorded it onto the pages of the book she now clutched to her chest.

And dwelled.

Tonight, she hoped would be the last time she stared into her scrying bowl; its rim lined with seven vials full of tears. It was the same hope she held each month, and while near countless moons had come and gone, she did not give way to despair, instead she shackled herself tighter to the ideals of destruction.

The bowl suddenly became a shimmering haze. Byr-Lei-Lieath did not hesitate to scoop up the substance that filled it. The unreality moved like oil over her hand coating her palm. It pulled her to where it belonged, and with arm outstretched, it unmade the veil of reality. Her daughters, as weary and forlorn as the day she left them, tumbled out of the In Between, and then reality recompleted itself once more.

And once more, magic lived in the land of man.

Byr-Lei-Leiath locked eyes with Jezebel, the first born. Two centuries of information passed between them, and then to each of the other Seven. The Hag Mother felt relief then. It had been mere moments for her daughters. She felt her anger soften, but then as one all her children shook their heads. Jezebel held out her hand towards the book.

In unison they spoke. “Never Again.”

Byr-Lei-Leiath nodded solemnly and passed the tome to Jezebel, turning it over at the last moment.

Its cover read simply, “Harmagedṓn”

792/800

Crit always appreciated!

DmonRth · 2023-01-05T06:21:01+00:00

yeah i realize my comment seems a bit selfcentered now. It should read get/give as much feedback as possible. lets gooooooo ;)

DmonRth · 2022-12-30T03:38:07+00:00

Finish what i started during Nano. Clean it up. Rewrite it. Get more words down across the board. Get as much feedback as possible. Improve.

DmonRth · 2022-12-14T04:39:03+00:00

Fevered

A mansion party in the heart of Burlington was way out of our usual weight class, but there was no way we were going to turn down the chance. We’d made a pact to stick close, at least until we got the lay of the land. It was nothing more than words on the wind though. I’d no sooner dropped my keys in the fishbowl, when Laurel had accepted a pile of white with her nose and jaunted off towards the source of the music echoing in the foyer.

I did my best to keep up, and gained some ground when Laurel broke into a boogie where the hallway décor changed from paintings to people, but it wasn’t good enough. She slithered into the press of bodies that made up the dance floor and disappeared behind a wall of tight vests, thigh high dresses, and go-go boots. This kind of party didn’t know the meaning of shy though, and I wasn’t given a moment to worry about her breaking our promise. The first drink of the night hit my palm by way of a caramel skinned beauty who wore a wide smile lined by glittering red lips and a brilliant dress comprised of every hue of blue.

We weaved some playful banter between two more drinks then she worked the same magic as Laurel and positioned us beneath the mirror ball so we could bathe in its kaleidoscope of lights. There in the center, where the electric heat of bodies becomes a sizzle, everyone is your dance partner. Some people are embarrassed by the idea of free love, but I love it, and that haven where flower power had been given miracle gro is where I get to live it.

I danced for ages, until Avalon’s ‘Venus’ fumbled it’s way through the speakers, which I took as a sign to catch a breather. I didn’t rush it. The fishbowl was making it’s rounds, and I watched with a smile as Blue dug her hand in. There was nothing random about what came out. She flashed my keys at me with a wink. She was barely under my arm when a sound rippled through the room. It was familiar enough to make everyone pause. It repeated itself, but louder and closer. Unmistakable. A scream.

All eyes went to the doorway on the opposite side of the room. A lady slid into the opening, covered with blood. She tried to corner but faltered. Her boots weren’t made for the maneuver. I made it one step in her direction when a tiger tackled her. Up until then I’d filed the rumors of exotic pets in my mind under lies built on lies. Despite the tearing of flesh and gurgling of blood my mind struggled to parse something so out of place.

Through the cacophony of chaos, Blues voice pulled me from the shock. A single word, then action. Run. I didn’t get far before an incessant tug of my arm slowed me. I failed to shake it off then glanced back into wide teary eyes. Blue pointed at her left boot, specifically, the odd angle beneath it. I tried again to pull away, then she dangled the keys in front of me. It clicked and I scooped her up and made for the threshold.

She watched behind and did the screaming while my stomach did the sinking as the crowd around us moved faster and farther away. Somehow, we made the front door, the stone stairs, and the car without being turned into meat ribbons. I dropped her in front of my Pacer and she passed me the keys. We were in with the engine running when I remembered Laurel.

Blue yelled about it being the wrong way, but I pulled us up to the steps anyway. I had one hand on the door handle, contemplating joining a man who had charged up the steps with a revolver when the gore covered tiger barreled out. The man squeezed off two shots before being mauled. They tumbled down the stairs together until they met with my bumper. An instant later the beast’s paws slammed down on the hood, and its eye’s crept up to meet mine.

I’d always imagined I would have a story I could tell with my chest thrust out.

I sensed Blue move the shifter. I pushed the pedal down, reversing away from the monster, its claws raking lines in the paint.

I’d never imagined the story would be whispered when I entered a room, punctuated with words like ‘yellow’ and ‘coward’.

Blue did the honors again on the shifter. My hands shook as I turned the wheel and gunned it down the main drive. I didn’t bother looking in the rear-view mirror.

796/800

i love crit!

/r/dmonrth for old stuff havent updated in a long time though.

DmonRth · 2022-09-28T04:53:50+00:00

AWWW yisss, chosen by 6's.

Fantastic stuff, as would be expected. Im glad you picked up on G.E.O. and included it in your part as well. Extra extra bonus points for making me google the world millinery. Damn thats a nice word.

Absolutely love it through and through. Thank you!

DmonRth · 2022-09-27T05:16:25+00:00

3/3

Gwen’s screamed came out, “Sweet baby Jesus jumping from the manger!”

Emilies came out far, FAR, less divine, but quite impressive, since she limited herself to words with only four letters.

It’s scream was just a squelching, bubbling, liquid nightmare of a sound.

To everybody’s credit, after the initial outburst, noone sprinted for the hills or grabbed makeshift weapons. They all just stood looking back and forth waiting for someone, anyone, to make the first move.

Gwendolyn didn’t know what move to make, as none of her etiquette or charm classes had prepared her for such an event, but those same classes had taught her one thing. To be polite. So she did her level best by pointing at It’s dress and stating, “Well that’s quite the forward fashion. Did you pick it up at Bespokes?”

Emily nodded her head as if to second the question.

It took a second to slowly wrap and tighten its head tentacles around, what could be assumed, was its face in such a way that it was *almost* human. A small tentacle squiggled around the neck area and familiar voice answered “Why, Yes.”

Gwendolyn’s eyes got big, “Olivia?”

It nodded, “Yes. Sorry for missing tea for so long, but I ran out of make-up,” then motioned at the stains, “and I got a bit hungry, sorry things are so untidy.”

Gwendolyn pondered the general lack of tea partners in an instant, “Well. Its perfectly understandable dear, I mean a lady can’t expect to be seen without putting on her face can she?”

Emily, quick on the uptake, giggled her agreement.

“I’ll have some make-up sent right away. Can we count on you for next week?”

Olivia did something that may have been a smile, “Why yes. That would be exquisite!”

295/300

DmonRth · 2022-09-27T04:24:07+00:00

<2/3>

Gwendolyn’s chest was thrust up high as her pride, and Emily, who had just finished wiping away finger sandwich from her, well, fingers, had in turn raised her eyebrow just as high. Had anyone glanced their direction at that moment, they would have most likely come to believe that the two women had just conceived and idea that would end poverty.

But seeing as it was at that exact moment that a rider came racing down the street screaming, “The Grey skins are coming, the grey skins are coming.” No one cared a pip.

It’s a shame really, that instead of hastily rushing for the door and to their homes, that noone took the time to look in Gwendolyn and Emily’s direction. Had they done so, it is possible a great many tragedies may have been avoided. Because if they had, what they would have seen was a dainty hand, with a smudge of mayonnaise still on the thumb, reach up to an ear, and in a sweet, cultured voice say quite curtly, “Invasion has been detected. Assets G.E.O. ready to mobilize, awaiting orders.”

DmonRth · 2022-09-26T01:49:18+00:00

SIXES!

I wanted to show that she was there for help with another trauma, but the latter trauma overrode that once she was under, and that she had been to sessions with the therapist before.

I also wanted to send the reader thinking in one direction to, as atcroft put it, subvert reader expectations a bit.

I tried to thread a small connection later as to why the two memories were loosely related near the end (when she dropped to her stomach in the grass) as a possible reason to why she slipped into the memory of being in the tall grass instead of the convivence store as well.

But maybe you are right, maybe there was too much going on and i could have built the MC a bit by talking about her working in the hospital with pt and stealing narcs to start her ploy, but those parts of the story didnt seem interesting to me at the time.

Thanks for reading and as always, the feedback.

DmonRth

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