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- From: gooley@netcom.com (Mark. Gooley)
- Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
- Subject: some 100-worders
- Message-ID: <t#jmvt+.gooley@netcom.com>
- Date: 25 Jul 92 00:24:39 GMT
- Organization: Netcom - Online Communication Services (408 241-9760 guest)
- Lines: 65
-
-
- He woke, his face aching as from a huge cyst in the bridge
- of his nose. He had long derived almost a sexual thrill from forcing
- pus and sebum from pimples and cysts: he ran to the mirror and with
- the knuckles of his forefingers pressed against the cyst. Something
- large shifted beneath his skin: he set his hands futher apart, and
- tried again. He wept from the pain, but the cyst would not burst.
- His hands almost to his cheekbones, he made his final, utmost effort.
- His face burst open, his head collasped, and the cyst shattered
- the mirror.
-
- -
-
- The doctor looked up from his breakfast bowl of crushed brick
- and sorghum syrup. "Aphasia, my dear," he said to his wife, "why are you
- becoming a wombat?" For indeed the metamorphosis was well under way.
- "The pet shops are offering an excellent price for them, " she
- said, scratching the new fur on her shrinking body with a paw.
- "You might have given me some warning," he said, and dropped his
- spoon into the bowl with a clatter before stalking off to the basement
- to get another wife from cold storage.
- "Sorry about that, Desmid," were her last words.
-
- -
-
- "We could still be friends," she said.
- "No," he said. "I'd always want more than that." He turned
- and walked straight towards the building site a hundred yards away. She
- expected him to turn at the high fence, but he climbed. The razor wire
- atop it seemed not to bother him at all, and she did nothing. Then she
- saw the blood on his hands.
- "Courtney!" she cried, running towards him. He ignored her and
- walked straight towards the mound of yellow clay. He fell on his face.
- His body melted into the clay and vanished. She began to scream.
-
- -
-
- The body of the Countess lay naked in the charmed circle,
- beautiful though pale in death. The wound near her heart was barely
- visible.
- The hag shed her homespun cloak and was naked. She smiled,
- took the chalice, drained it in one gulp.
- She watched her metamorphosis in the bronze mirror. The vileness
- vanished from her skin and frame and hair. Her features shifted, becoming
- those of the dead Countess.
- Suddenly, blood spurted from her chest. With a cry of agony
- she crumpled to the floor.
- The old wizard entered, saw the identical corpses, shook his head.
- "Incompetent," he muttered.
-
- -
-
- Roger snickered as he finished reading the message: another
- infatuated geek tricked by his fake user name. He thought for a moment
- and began to type his reply. "Jim," it began, "I'm nineteen, blonde,
- great body (I model bikinis in the summer), big green eyes. I'm proud
- of my tan..."
- Roger was so intent on his writing that he saw nothing of the
- change: how his fingers became long and delicate, how his face became
- beautiful, how his body shrank and gained new curves. Only when the
- woman he had become heard her own laughter did she notice anything amiss.
-
- -
- Mark.
- gooley@netcom.com
-