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Here we are, on the second half of today’s double-publishing extravaganza. Which totally isn’t a thing just because I forgot to be good with an upload schedule since Christmas hit. No, not at all. Also, this is the last Five Sentence Fiction of the M.N.P. All that remains is the short story entry that will probably offer absolutely no narrative closure and will instead just sequel-bait in case I ever want to come back to this weird little mythos.
Buuuut I kind of have a looot to write anyway so maybe I’ll just deposit this onto the self in the back of my head instead.
Word of Inspiration: Jolly
Word Count: 152
Genre: Surrealist Fiction
It should have been laughter coming out of Due’s mouth. Laughter of relief- instead it sounded like a bird being stepped on (not that he knew what that sounded like).
Due had dodged the book that had been aimed to take his head off, he didn’t need to eat a damn book to dip and weave out of the way like he did. In fact, he didn’t seem to much like books right now and, by the invisibly smoldering (it certainly felt red-hot as it trimmed the bangs of his wig off) novel that now lay peacefully behind him, they didn’t seem very fond of him either.
When he finally felt brave enough to raise his periscope over the podium again, the end of the world was over, the police had mopped up the chaos at the culprit with clinical speed and Due smiled before he decided to go ahead and faint.
See, I told you the bizarre names didn’t stop with Somn in the previous entry! And now we are approaching the end of this little experiment. One more short-story entry will follow from this and then a little compilation and reflection post will comes afterwards. It’s almost done guys, it’s almost done! I’m sure plenty of you are thanking your non-specific deity or Great Old One right about now!
Good luck, you brave writer folk!