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October 23, 2006


Tell us about the color (or something that is the color) yellow.

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Lemons get me. I've always been fascinated by the little surface dimples – how some are just translucent spots and some are full-bore craters. This one seems to have just the right number of cratery ones; enough to give it some character, but not quite enough to make it look like Jack Palance.

As it spins I can see the rest of the fruit is as nicely proportioned as the peel; the pip is an even five-pointed star, no puckering or blemishes anywhere. The perfect lemon.

Nice and firm, too. I'll have a black eye later.

The song wasn't that bad.

Posted by: Keiran Halcyon at October 23, 2006 9:22 AM · Permalink

The book that came in the post was tightly wrapped and neatly labelled to me. There was no return address to be seen just a faded smuged on the back. I could make out Cambridge but no more.

I gingerly opened the package to find another set of wrapping below it. This was repeated three times unitil I got to the book inside.

It was an elderly copy of the King In Yellow by Robert W. Chambers. There was a note in the cover.

"I hope this doesn't cause you the pain its caused me."

"Ah yes...the curse..." I sighed.

Posted by: Andrew Ian Dodge at October 23, 2006 10:14 AM · Permalink

When the other crayons stopped laughing, Yellow said:
"Think you know me? Let me tell you."
Yellow grabbed Mauve by the wrist. Mauve resisted, but with a quick twist-and- turn, the wrist snapped in 12 ½ places.
"Who's next?” hollered Yellow. “Scarlet? Periwinkle? Feeew-chsia? How many ya'll ever helped make a rainbow?"
No one answered.
"Buncha pussyfied back-biters," spat Yellow.

"Hold on." Black pushed through the crowd.
"I made a rainbow. Me and . . . Ronny James Dio!"

Then the sky filled with the dark prince, Dio, looking down upon Yellow with malicious tyranny.

A mulberry tumbleweed rolled across a burnt orange sunset.

Posted by: Ben Martini at October 23, 2006 11:17 AM · Permalink

Today must be obscure references day! :)

They're good ones, though.

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at October 23, 2006 12:50 PM · Permalink

I Got One:

Paula lay before me now, quite and peaceful, her breasts falling with the egression
of her last breath.

I held her arms and then straightened her wisps of lovely hair.

I oh so gingerly tugged at a loose end of the bow, the bow tied in a ribbon she wore
about her neck always, even before we met.

I know I had promised her, but I couldn’t stop myself.

The bow came free and the yellow ribbon, a ribbon I believed she wore for the love of another, came loose and dropped away. And her beautiful head fell clean off.

Posted by: Kasac at October 23, 2006 1:04 PM · Permalink

“Oooh…it’s so bright and yellow!”

“Do we see color?”

“Well it’s still bright and warm.”

“It’s always bright and warm when it’s out. It’s the sun, for goodness sake. Now get back to work. We have a lot of food to take in.”

“But doesn’t it seem extra warm and bright this time? Like God is smiling down on us.”

“Well, I’ll admit it does seem extra warm. That’s a little odd. I don’t remember it usually this hot.”

“Oh no, you’re on fire!”

“So are you!”


The boy laughed and tucked his magnifying glass back into his pocket.

Posted by: laieanna at October 23, 2006 1:26 PM · Permalink

laieanna gets my vote for Evil Laugh-Inducing Story of the Day.

Posted by: Keiran Halcyon at October 23, 2006 1:32 PM · Permalink


The stranger watched from the edge of the yard.

Tommy shouted at him to leave.

He didn’t move, so Tommy began throwing rocks.

One struck, and the stranger lurched forward. Tommy scurried into the house, squealing. He slammed the screen door, flipped the lock, and fell backwards into the kitchen.

The porch creaked.

A writhing mass of yellowjackets appeared at the screen. A steady stream ripped into the room through a never-patched tear. Tommy swatted hysterically, kicking and screaming, engulfed in burning stings and scratching wings. His eyes and throat ballooned closed.

The stranger watched silently, and then moved on.

Posted by: PB McCoy at October 23, 2006 1:45 PM · Permalink

Keiran Halcyon - Seconded.

PB McCoy - Stop stealing my writing style! :)

Posted by: Stacy at October 23, 2006 1:59 PM · Permalink

Stacy - Oops. Sorry 'bout that.

Posted by: PB McCoy at October 23, 2006 2:18 PM · Permalink

There was something about it. You knew it would be there but you could never get away from it. It was always something you never wanted but always got. It was “yellow”. Waking in the morning it was yellow. Your mouth and your breath. Always yellow. You can brush your teeth but it always comes back.

A taste and a smell of what you have left behind.

You can look at the girl you left behind in the bed and forget her first name but you can’t get away from it.

The sun comes up.

You spit and move on.

Posted by: the turtle at October 23, 2006 2:25 PM · Permalink

Kasac: My first story idea was "Tie a yellow ribbon 'round the old oak tree... and use it to burn the witch!"

Second idea was using one for a lynching.

Third one... well, Simpsons anyone?

Posted by: Laurence Simon at October 23, 2006 2:26 PM · Permalink

PB McCoy - It is joking, I am! /Yoda

Posted by: Stacy at October 23, 2006 3:08 PM · Permalink

hnnrrnnmm, be a jokester you will?

Posted by: Kasac at October 23, 2006 3:12 PM · Permalink

Stacy - No worries. I forgot my :)

Posted by: PB McCoy at October 23, 2006 3:16 PM · Permalink

Check before you post!