Time for another writing challenge...

Okay, four random objects... A business card, an empty drinking glass, a double-A battery, and a pair of goggles. Optional: Replace any of the above objects with a bowling ball.

The story must take place... Let's see... On a baseball diamond. There must be three people. One of them is missing a finger.

Best three paragraphs wins... bragging rights.

Since I set up the challenge, the first person to submit their entry can change the challenge to make it tougher for me.

Comments

  • Loose on the three paragraphs, but not a novel. You know what I mean.
  • Marcus Palmer
    CPA - Accountants and Associates
    555-1234 ext 987
    [email protected]

    Cynthia turned the card over. Another number scrawled on the back. Not one she’d never call. The card, bent on the corner and spattered with a big round stain, along with a single battery in her pocket comprised all of her remaining earthly possessions. She'd left the empty cup in the parking lot when she ran. She wished now she'd held on to it. Everything else she'd left behind days before.

    She read the face of the card again. Flipped it. Sighed. Flipped it again.

    Voices drifted across the barren park. Cynthia stood up, feet planted on either side of second base. Up on the mezzanine. Two outlines against the fading light. “Hello?” she called up. Both figures stopped and turned, then vanished into the depths of the stadium. Moments later she spotted them trotting out on the lower level, angling toward the dugouts. Cynthia pocketed her business card and went over to meet them.

    The man was tall, at least six feet, and had something on his face. Goggles? The other was closer to Cynthia in shape, though she was thinner and more drawn. She held her left hand to her chest, a dirty bandage wrapped around it. The man waved in what would have been a friendly way.

    Cynthia got a chill. The first people she’d seen in what, two days? Should she be glad not to be alone? Or concerned about why these two were still here too? With no better way to get answers, Cynthia picked up her pace and met the duo as they jumped down from the roof of the dugout.

  • Now that's a story I'd read.
  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym Teacher
    edited January 10
    Me, Lefty, and Nine, we was out at the old little league field, talking about the glory days. Nine, he was standing there holding an empty glass. I woulda thought he might have whiskey in it, but it looked bone dry to me. There’s no telling, and no point asking. Nine’s been a little off since the accident with the firecracker and the bowling ball. We call him Nine ‘cause since that little incident, he can’t count to ten without taking his shoes off. Lefty looked at me. He came straight from work, and his goggles were still on his head. Guess he didn’t know they was there.

    “Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two out,” he said. “Tying run on second, winning run at the plate. Three and two the count.”

    I stepped, or maybe staggered, onto the mound. Stuck my hand in my pants pocket. Had a business card from that lady lawyer. Might need that later. In my other pocket was a double-A battery. I guess it’d have to do. I went into my windup. I paused, perched on one foot like one of them birds people put in their yards. I looked at Nine, and he sort of shook his head. Lefty was bent down and squinting, like a second-base umpire watching the plate. So I let it rip.

    It was my fastball, and it woulda been a perfect strike, if the batter was seven foot tall and standing in the warm-up ring. Well, I don’t stay in practice much, and the whiskey wasn’t helpin’.

    “Safe!” yelled Nine. Me and Lefty busted up laughin’, then we all just staggered off towards the street. 


  • Marie, Adam and Vincent decided to go to the baseball field to practice, Marie just lost her finger during a tennis tournament and they wanted to cheer her up and make her feel worthy again, she didn't pick up a racket in 8 weeks so maybe baseball could bring her back to her enjoyment for sports but most importantly for the fun of ball catch.  They were the first on the field a very wet grass on a early Sunday morning, going  to practice for those very sportives folks was like going to a occasional all you can eat buffet regular Ll american dude who retired at 40 from a veterans position he probably held. Few miles down his cottage home until he was fed up with and collected his social security after gaining a PTSD diagnosed at a local free clinic.

    Vincent was the thrower Marie the catcher and Adam the runner. Playing with 3 people made it much more challenging but fun. They played for a hour and started to feel the heat coming their way."" Time for a break yelled adam'' when they got back to the field after going in the near clubhouse for a coffee and donuts they saw 3 Bowling ball place at each spot they were suppose to stand by.  Vincent said : " Who did that? Is this a joke? Marie replied: " Someone is trying to bring me down and they figure I wouldn't be able to carry and a throw a bowling ball with my missing finger" Vincent said: " let's not make assumption just yet" they all turned they heads around trying to spite something or someone who could be this maker of this stupid joke. But they were completely alone.... 

    Marie decided to carry the ball but she failed and burst in teers...then run away home. Both young guys took picture and posted it on social media Hoping it will help. Later on they decided to go play tennis and guess who they find there. ( Marie !!!!) Swing her mental state they didn't picture her being ready) but here she was playing head on like nothing had happen.... This End


  • Papi_SoñolientoPapi_Soñoliento Southern Escarpment Hill Country Librarian
    Garth shook his head in annoyance as a burst of static erupted from his ear-piece.

    "Comm-check, by the numbers."

    When it was his turn Garth vocalized loudly enough for his helmet-mic to pick up the sound but not loud enough for his voice to travel, "Garth in position, I read you five-by-five, over."

    The minutes ticked by more slowly than a dead sloth travels as other members of the assault team checked in until cold sweat trickled down Garth's back. He almost felt a sense of relief the voice from his ear-piece signaled the wait was over.

    "As planned assault team, move in on the mark as cover-fire will commence in five, four, three, two, one..."

    The first incoming artillery rounds shrieked by overhead as Garth got to his feet and headed toward the objective.
  • SeamusSeamus Author
    These are fun! nice work!
    Tim Reinholt Author of Pow, a ski bum heist adventure
  • Just KevinJust Kevin Lulu Genius
    The person with the missing finger threw all the objects away, and she and her friends went home. The End.

    Myself and my friend combined know everything there is to know, but he's not here.

  • Joe_Bondi_BeachJoe_Bondi_Beach San Francisco Bay Area Author
    Skoob_ym said:
    Now that's a story I'd read.
    I want Lulu to publish the anthology. I'll buy it.
  • facsmthfacsmth Author
    edited May 22
    NSFW: alcohol related. 

    "One more, champ?" asked the bartender. 
    To his horror, James Suthie came to with these three words spoken to him by a man he'd never met in a place he had never been to before. In his hand was an empty drinking glass. He set it down carefully enough but his hand shook as he released it. Good thing the bartender caught it and  winked at James.

    Suddenly thirsty, James managed to rasp out "water would be fine." On the inside he was panicking. He first thought "Oh not another dive!" quickly followed by "oh, man, not THAT kinda bar!"  and, belatedly, "what am I champion of?" 

    To his left stood a man wearing only a speedo. He smiled at something behind James. His beady eyes looked strange, but then James realized the man wore a pair of googles which were filled with an amber fluid.  For an insane moment, James almost laughed and he feared that any sudden movement on his part would only propel him further into a new black out followed by God only knew how long.

    Slowly, James turned to see a woman wearing an odd bustier crafted from hollowed out bowling balls. She wore a grass skirt as well. 

    "You okay, champ?" came the bartender's question. The man's concern was cursory. James hadn't yet figured out where the bar was let alone its name and he definitely didn't want to be kicked out of the place before ascertaining such input. 

    Someone from behind James tapped him on the shoulder. "You dropped your battery, friend." James looked over his shoulder to see this new stranger was holding what was impossibly a giant AA battery. The thing was enormous. Easily ten pound and the size of a trophy. 

    Before he could protest, the man shoved the battery into a slot on James' back. Suddenly energetic, James' descent into hell was complete. All the other patrons cheered as the JS Drinking Bot became fully functional once again. 



    man, that was hard. :D Doh! forgot the setting. 




  • Skoob_ymSkoob_ym Teacher
    Points for all the other elements... And that's a very original, if slightly bizarre, approach to the subject.
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