Imagine a world where sex is illegal.
I don’t know about you, but for me, THIS is the first image that comes to mind:
Now, go back to watching dirty sluts on Spankwire and thank your lucky stars that this is not the case.
It is, however, the central premise for my newest flash fiction challenge piece! This week, Wendig‘s assignment was to come up with our own sub genre of the something-punk category (cyberpunk, steampunk, or in Chuck’s case – cornpunk) and write a short story ~ 1,000 words or less in that new style.
Like the typical horny man that I am, I came up with the idea for a SEXPUNK story. Here’s my tweet-friendly synopsis: In a time when overpopulation threatens to destroy civilization as we know it, the government bans sex in an effort to slow the birth rate.
So, here goes:
The Crime of Passion
The moment our eyes met for the first time, I knew.
I was in trouble.
Writing a good horror story is really hard.
But it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. I’m not sure I can check it off the bucket list, either. Not just yet. But I gave it my best shot, and I’ve got to give another big shout out to penmonkey extraordinaire Chuck Wendig for the inspiration. I wrote this piece for his weekly Flash Fiction challenge; I didn’t end up submitting it, however –– mostly because I went over the 1,000 word limit (pretty much doubled it) and I missed the deadline by an hour (damn you, time zones… Daaamn you!). But that’s not going to stop me from putting it out there to add to my growing collection.
Last week’s challenge was to write a story containing four random items from a list of ten total; we got to choose which items we wanted to use.
My four random items:
1. a rocking chair
2. a road sign
3. a child’s toy
4. a policeman’s badge
And here’s my story! Leave me a comment and let me know what you think.
The House on Hollow Hill
“Riley County 911, what’s your emergency?”
“It’s my granddaughter. She’s… She’s been hit by a car.”
“Okay ma’am. I see you’re calling from two-two-three Hollow Hill Road. Is that correct?”
“Oh god… There’s so much blood… it’s – everywhere.”
“Ma’am, I need you to stay calm for me. Is there anyone else there with you?”
“No. My husband is – he’s gone. Oh god… She’s not breathing!”
“Ma’am, just hold on. I’m sending an ambulance to your location now. There’s a patrol car nearby – the officer will be there in a few minutes. Just sit tight. Help is on the way.”
“Okay… Okay. Please, my grandbaby’s not breathing. Please… hurry.”
The adventure continues as the crew of the cargo ship Icarus narrowly escape a deadly collision.
1800hrs. 14th Oct. 413P.C.
On the surface of Bronos,
the island of Baro-Lii.
“Get that damn light out of my face!”
Captain Vizirov sat up slowly, cringing from the sharp pain in his forehead. He touched a hand to his head and quickly drew back three fingertips covered in blood. Everything was spinning. It looked like someone had covered his eyes with film, a thick grey haze that he could not blink away at first, try as he might. A tall figure stood over him, shining a light in his eyes. It was Jaime – the ship’s medical officer.
“Sir, you need to lay back,” Jaime said, flicking the flashlight down at her feet. “You may have a concussion.”
The Captain ignored her. “Dullard, status report.” He blinked hard and got to his feet, the haze finally beginning to recede. “Dullard!”
“He’s below deck checking the ship with the rest of the crew. You took a pretty nasty blow to the head when we– um, landed, sir.”
In this installment, an alien shipping worker catches a glimpse of a cargo vessel plummeting out of control toward the surface of the planet.
Coming In Hot
14th Oct. 413P.C.
Outside the Primary Loading Bay,
Island of Baro-Lii / Planet: Bronos
Step on board and meet the disparate crew of the cargo ship Icarus as they approach their destination hundreds of light years from Earth. (Chapter 1 of a brand new, ongoing Sci-Fi short-series)
The Bronos Approach
1700hrs. 14th Oct. 413P.C.
Aboard the cargo ship Icarus,
near the Cygnus star system, Planet: Bronos
“You see sum’ wrong wi’ dis picsha?” Benjy always laid on the thick English accent whenever he was intentionally being a condescending dick. Presently, he was frowning and pointing at the bright red liquid spurting from a small hose on top of the main fusion drive. The stuff smelled like burning hair – Ruben had no idea what to make of it.
This is a brand new piece I wrote over the night – a bit of Flash Fiction for Chuck Wendig’s weekly challenge. Never heard of him? You’re in for quite a treat. Click that link on his name right back there, and familiarize yourself with one of the greatest writers of the day. Chuck’s TerribleMinds blog is updated – sometimes twice – daily, filled with wonderful stories and interesting articles about the day-to-day life of a full-time writer. His work is incredible, both fiction and non-fiction… and it would do you well to check it out. Plus, he says “fuck” a lot. So, you know. There’s that.
You can find all of his work on his website (click the link, dammit!)
Anyway, on with the story. I may have gone a little over the 1,000 word limit. (Oops.) Here’s to you, Mr. Wendig. Cheers. Thanks for the inspiration! Can we be friends, please?
Random-Generated Prompt (courtesy of Archetype Writing):
The story starts when your protagonist is forced into a car at gunpoint.
Another character is an alchemist who is developing a deadly new poison.