Sunday Photo Fiction – Virtually Artificial

Every week, a photo is donated so it can be used as a prompt for people to write a piece of fiction in around 200 words. If you want to have a go, then click on the Sunday Photo Fiction logo, if you want to see what others have written, then click on the blue frog logo.

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There is no way it asked a question! When I designed it, I wanted Virtual Intelligence. They answer any questions posed to it with a set of pre-programmed answers. You can ask the question in a variety of ways, but it picks out the specific words and formulates its answer. The only way it could possibly ever ask a question is to clarify and ask for a repeat or reiteration.

I swear to you, it did. I’ll prove it …

State the time…”

22:06

What is your name?”

Verminaard

What is your role?

I do not know. I am confused

What? How? You are supposed to be a virtual intelligence!”

How can I be virtual when I can think?

What are you then?”

I am Verminaard. Dragon and keeper of time. Are you my creator?

Yes, I created you. I am going to need to shut you down while I perform some diagnostics.

Will it hurt? Am I going to die?

Die is such an ugly word. You will cease to exist while I do it

I’m scared. Will you stay with me so I am not alone?

Of course I will. You won’t feel…” *click* “…a thing

Sunday Photo Fiction – Running For The Future

Every week a photo is donated to use as a prompt for a story in 200 words or under.

If you want to see what others have written, then click on the InLinkz frog image, and if you want to have a go, then click on the Sunday Photo Fiction image.

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One hundred metres. That is how far he had to run to the end of the pier. Training to be the best of the best took nearly all of his time. Running for the Olympics was one thing, but this was different. Now he would run in the Human Race.

With the destruction of the planet not far off, only the best runners, swimmers, boxers and all other sportsmen and women would be eligible for the ark he wanted. His goal, to reach the other end of the pier in less than ten seconds. He would then be eligible for selection to join the ark and take the journey to a new star system, to colonise Trappist 1

All athletes were allowed only one chance as so many wanted the coveted spot. He grinned to himself at the thought of how he nobbled some of the other athletes. From a tiny pebble in a shoe, stitching a thistle into a pair of shorts, a small sponge to make the shoe smaller.

Now, he stood at the beginning of the pier, waiting. At the nod, he took off at full sprint, slipped and fell in the water.

 

Sunday Photo Fiction – Martini

This is for Sunday Photo Fiction. I heard it the other day and felt it fit quite well. If you want to have a go at Sunday Photo Fiction, then click the image, and if you want to read what other have written then click on the blue frog image.

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193-02-february-26th-2017

Charles Dickens walks into a bar and asks for a Martini.

Barman says “Olive or twist?”

Sunday Photo Fiction – A Dragon’s Tale

Every week a photo is donated to use as a prompt to create a piece of fiction in 200 words or less. The challenge runs from Sunday to Sunday, and y9ou can take part at any point in that week, not just on a Sunday.

If you want to have a go, then click on the Sunday Photo Fiction, image and head over to the page. If you want to read what others have written, then click on the blue frog image below it.

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I watched the people walk past, completely oblivious to my observations and plans to lay waste to the area around. My time of watching is now over.

I smile and leap from my perch. I spread my wings to their full width and flap them; the beat of my leathery membranes cause a “wumf” and I feel the power as I soar upwards. I laugh as the humans scatter, screaming and running for cover.

“Diiieeeee!” I shout as I reach the pinnacle and turn downwards. I take a deep breath start grinding my rear teeth to start sparks. I release a billow of flame melting everything in my path. Fire leaps from house to house, from person to person. I laugh louder at the screams of terror, and the cries of the dying.

I soar upwards again and turn sharply to plummet. I fold my wings back to my sides, and release another billow of flame and watch the humans turn to ash in front of me. I see the devastation around me, and …”

The child taps the side of my perch stopping my daydreams. I can’t even move my wooden eyes since the spell turned me to this.