The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #6

 white lizard

The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #6

One Image!

One Prompt!

One Emotion!

200 Words

An Albino Lizard

A Can of Pumpkin

Bravado

Please add your story in the comments below.

 

7 thoughts on “The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #6

  1. “Can you craft it?” said the warrior.

    “Yes. But I cannot guarantee its efficiency,” the tinker said.

    The tinker looked at the alien relic brought to him by the warrior. It was a metal food container. He could tell by the picture of pumpkins on the side. It stood half as tall as the tinker himself. He grimaced as he evaluated where to make his cuts.

    “Your efforts will not go unrewarded tinker. Once I slay the white dragon, your craft-work will become legend.” The warrior clenched his fist, staring into the distance.

    “You speak of slaying the great Ig ’Wana as though it were prophesied. Forget, do you, its lair is deep within the harrowing realm of the giants?” The tinker cast a hard look to the warrior. “Are you so filled with naive bravado, or do you simply wish to die young?”

    “Hold your tongue tinker,” the warrior spat. “I shall slay the beast and my name shall echo into eternity. I shall be unseen in my travels. This giant-kin trash I’ve brought to be crafted into fine armor… it is camouflage.”

    The tinker’s gaze drifted away as he considered.

    Low, the tinker then spoke, “Nay, it is folly.”

  2. “Call me Moses”
    “What the hell happened to you?” his wife, Lizzie, shouted in shock. “You’re not a chameleon.”
    “I saw God. I can do anything.”
    “But you’re white and…and you grew a beard. I don’t like beards.”
    “I’m a prophet. I have seen God. He appeared to me along with Cecil B. DeMille. I am invincible!”
    “How am I going to explain this to the other lizards under the rock?”
    “You don’t. Tell them to follow me instead. I know where I am going. It’s almost Halloween and the lady in the house scares easily. She put some jack o lanterns out for her grandkids. I am going to hide inside one. When she comes out, I am going to jump out and scare her. You run inside and get what you can. We are going eat like royalty!”
    Moses was licking his mouth with his forked tongue. He scurried from under the rock to the front door, then into the jack o lantern.
    A moment later the front door opened. He leapt out, squeaking in a high voice. The grandfather was carrying a gallon can of pumpkin. He threw it.
    Lizzie found a new mate a week later.

  3. Pumpkin Pie for Thanksgiving

    Jocelyn emptied the can of pumpkin into the blender. She added spices, coconut cream and whizzed it up.

    Rachel, her sixteen-year-old, said. “Mmmm. Smells delish. What is it?”

    “Thought we’d have pie tonight,” Jocelyn said.

    “Pie? You must be kidding,” her daughter said. “Mum, we live in the tropics. Bali’s always plus thirty degrees. What are you thinking about?”

    Jocelyn wiped her brow. Why pumpkin pie? “Thanksgiving. That’s what I’m thinking about. Pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving.”

    “Look around, for heaven’s sake,” Rachel said. She pointed out the open spaces where windows should have been, the dining table outside on the terrace, the back garden, a jungle. Coconuts hung from palm trees. A white lizard looked down at them from the kitchen cupboards. It was hot. Very hot.

    Jocelyn mopped her brow. “Maybe I could cool it before serving?”
    Rachel rolled her eyes.

    After dinner that night, the tropical sky splattered with stars, Jocelyn served ice-cream. “Taste it and tell me what you think,” she said, smiling at her family.

    It had taken some gumption on Jocelyn’s part, but she’d invented a new ice-cream flavour.

    “A frozen dessert,” she said. But really it was pumpkin pie, disguised, frozen, as ice-cream.

    They loved it.

  4. “See ‘im?”
    “Yeah, I see ‘im. So?”
    “I’ma git ‘im. ‘And me dat can.”
    “Git ‘im? Whatcha gonna do wit ‘im when ya gin ‘im?”
    “Jus’ ‘and me dat can a punkin! Quick! ‘Fer ‘e gets away!”
    “Punkin? Whatcha gonna do wit punkin?”
    “What’s I gonna do? Why, I’ma gonna trow it at ‘im! I’ma gonna ‘it ‘im in da ‘ead and knock ‘im dead!”
    “Why?”
    “Why? Why not! When d’you ever seed a white ‘guana afore? I’ma gonna git ‘im and stuff ‘im!”
    “Stuff ‘im? Why ya gonna stuff ‘im?”
    “I’ma gonna stuff ‘im so I kin take ‘im to da fair! If’n ya don’t gimme dat dere punkin ‘e’s gonna runned off and git away!”
    “Caint we jus’ catch ‘im and keep ‘im fer a pet? We could still take ‘im to da fair. ‘E’d be a show pet.”
    “Dat’s not a bad idear. ‘Ow do we catch ‘im? Do ‘guanas eat punkin? Can we bait ’em?”
    “Don’t tink ‘guanas eat punkin. Least ways not canned punkin. I tink dey eat salad. Go see if’n momma’s got some salad left fer baitin’ da ‘guana.”

  5. ”We’re going to die!”
    After uncountable days in the desert, they’d found shelter in an abandoned trailer in the middle of nowhere filled with nothing but sand.
    ”Oh, don’t talk such rot! I’m the greatest scavenger, I am! We’re going to pull through!”
    The idiot searched through the cupboards and boxes in the trailer, making more mess. It was his idea that they should escape from the prison and head in this direction.
    ”We found shelter, now all we need is food…ah-ha! You see? I’m never wrong!”
    The guy held a large can, read the label, and threw it over to him.
    ”It’s…it’s a can of pumpkin.”
    ”Pumpkin, yes. For you. Not really my favourite.”
    ”I’m allergic to squash. If I eat that, I’ll die.”
    He threw it back.
    ”Waste not, want not.”
    The guy opened the can, took a huge gulp of pumpkin and spat it out in a flash.
    ”1946? A little bit past its sell-by date.”
    ”I saw a white lizard outside as we came in. It might still be there.”
    ”White lizard? Ah-ha! I’m the greatest hunter, I’ll catch that for us, don’t you worry!”
    The idiot ran out into the sun.
    ”We’re going to die…”

  6. My White Knight
    Danielle Lee Zwissler

    It was Thanksgiving, and the castle was quiet. There wasn’t a sound to be heard for miles—even the people along the walls were long gone. Rumors of an invasion circulated long before the holiday season began. I sat at the counter with a can of pumpkin and a turkey sandwich and watched the small screened television. Julia Child was talking about how she could make a gourmet meal with only five ingredients. I doubted pumpkin, turkey, mustard, bread and olive oil would do much.
    Suddenly I heard a sound. I could feel my heart hammer in my chest, and my mind race as I imagined who would be here at the castle. I got off my stool and went to investigate.
    In stocking feet, I tiptoed down the hall. Long drapes hung from the ceilings, showing the pride of our kingdom. I wanted to hide behind one of them. I was terrified.
    At that moment, two things happened, the white drape that I stood beside shook, and I jostled back, nearly going down. And then I saw the man walk in. He was from the other team—the red team, on the other side of the city. Carefully, I stepped behind the drape, and that’s when I saw the chameleon! It was white, and HUGE! I put my hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream, but it wasn’t needed. The intruder saw him right away!
    His screams echoed through the hall, and a few moments later, I heard him shut the entry doors. I looked down at my White Knight and thanked him for his service.
    Two minutes after that, I brought him in the kitchen with me and shared my turkey and pumpkin.
    I was still the queen of the castle, and as soon as everyone got back from break, they’d meet our new mascot and hear the stories of our newest Knight and his journey to knighthood.

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