New Neighbors

“Well, that was unexpected.”

Jennifer watched the puppy dash around the backyard, sniffing around the shadows and lifting his fuzzy leg to mark his territory.

Earlier in the week, Jennifer met the neighbors that had just moved in next door. She noticed an adorable little boy playing in the front yard and stopped to talk to him. She loved children, and babysat often.

“Hi there!” She smiled at the child, and he eyed her warily, then grinned back. She guessed him to be about five. “What’s your name? I’m Jennifer.”

“I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” was his reply. Just then, the front door opened and an attractive young woman came outside. She smiled at Jennifer and introduced herself as Eric’s mother, Barbara Henderson. They chatted for a bit and then Barbara asked her if she ever babysat.

“Oh yes. I love kids.”

“Would you be available to sit for me this coming weekend? I have a…convention of sorts to attend, and Eric is too young to attend yet.”

Jennifer wondered what kind of convention, but figured it was none of her business, so she had simply nodded and they agreed upon a time and price. As Jennifer started back on her way, she had waved to Eric, and he waved back.

The week passed fairly quickly and Jennifer was at the Henderson’s promptly at six o’clock as promised. Barbara let her in. She was dressed very casually, in comfortable clothes, and the girl couldn’t help but wonder again what kind of convention she was attending.

“Eric has had his supper and his bath, so he shouldn’t give you any trouble. In fact, he’ll be ready for bed soon. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m leaving you the phone number for Eric’s grandmother just in case. I won’t be reachable until I return.”

She had gone in and kissed the sleepy little boy and gave him a hug. “I love you, Sweetie. See you tomorrow.” He nodded, engrossed in watching ‘Lady and the Tramp’. Waving goodbye, Barbara had left and Jennifer had joined Eric on the couch. He cuddled into her and she stroked his thick dark hair gently. When she felt him relax, she lifted him and carried him to his room, tucking him in, leaving the door cracked.

The hour grew late, and Jennifer heard noises from Eric’s room. She tiptoed in, trying not to wake him, and saw to her surprise a dark brown puppy sitting in the boy’s bed, and Eric was nowhere to be found.

“What in the world?! Eric, where are you?”

The pup jumped down from the bed and reared up on her legs, begging for attention. She picked him up, and carried him with her as she searched for the boy. He was gone. Panicked, she called his name, and each time, the pup yipped. Suddenly she stopped and stared at him.

“Eric?”

He licked her cheek. Sighing, she took him out into the backyard, where the full moon shone brightly.

499 words {without title}
@Angelique_Rider

Well, that was unexpected.

The last few moments played back in my mind frame by frame, slowed by the utter shock that gripped my mind.

Ayana was a sweet girl. Always had been. So, to find that she was the person sent to kill me was quite a surprise. I didn’t see it until the very last moment.

She always had the damned Hello Kitty bag. Today was no different and I paid it no mind, the same way I paid her no mind. Until I heard that too-familiar click.

I turned slowly, hands out. She stood comfortably, arm loose at her side, gun pointed at my head. She wouldn’t have to do much to make it count considering how close she was.

I hadn’t noticed how much she’d grown since she started working for me. She’d come a scraggly 15-year-old, scarred, withdrawn. There wasn’t a lot for a young girl to do as a private investigation agency, but I found things for her here and there. Having something to do seemed to have worked well for her.

Five years later, I saw no trace of that girl behind the gun.

“A little unnecessary to cock the gun, don’t you think?” I asked, trying to be flippant. I didn’t know what would work with her. I’d never studied her as an enemy.

“It got you to turn around,” she answered plainly.

I shrugged. “You could have just called my name. Hell, you could have just shot me. Why the theatrics?”

“Isn’t that part of this whole thing?” she asked. I wasn’t quite sure what she was referring to. This job? Her killing me? Her backstabbing me? Her life?

“Not for everybody it’s not,” I said, finding my teeth gritted, my jaw aching. I could try for my gun. Wasn’t it worth trying?

“I like it, though. The showy part of,” she paused, waving the gun around a bit. “Playing cops and robbers.”

“We’re not playing,” I said, looking pointedly at her gun.

“No one ever said a game couldn’t be serious,” she said. “I’m still playing even if the piece is real.” She took a step toward me and I didn’t move backwards. She seemed surprised and continued to stare into my face for long, choking moments. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

“It doesn’t really matter to me,” I grunted.

“Sure it does,” she laughed, taking another step closer. I could smell her hair. It was just as sweet as her. “And it’s not because I didn’t like you.” She got on her toes, gun pressing into my chest. “I liked you.” She kissed my mouth, her lips soft, dry. She moved her mouth across my neck. “I liked you a lot. But this served my purpose.” I didn’t ask what that purpose was. “It’s hard to set up Farraway without a dead body to blame him for,” she murmured.

A light bulb went off just as the gun did. They were both unexpected.

@J_M_Blackman
495

PROTOTYPE

“Well, that was unexpected,” Lord Cameron whistled.

Professor Kato looked up from the smoking girl sprawled on the ground between them—the wild-haired professor’s already wide eyes magnified by his large goggles.

“Uh, well, sir… That is, I can explain!”

“No need,” the pale young man raised a delicate hand. “Can you fix her?”

“Ah, yes…” Kato brushed dark hair delicately away from the face of the fallen maid. “It was just, a power surge. An unexpected interaction with the… with the vacuum cleaner, of all things…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cameron smiled. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this one, she looks so real. I’d gladly pay any price to iron out any technical difficulties and see her fully functional.”

Spouting obsequious platitudes, the white-frocked professor groveled until his eccentric benefactor had gone from sight. The maid in his arms was raven haired; firm skinned and had been very properly uniformed until something had ignited under the surface of her dress. Sensitive computer chips made a good excuse to get the fire out as quickly as possible, but only with his employer gone did Kato feel safe to lean in and really check for damage.

“Mei, are you alright?”

Groaning, the maid in his arms cracked an eyelid. “Dad, what the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know,” The weeping old man wrapped his arms around his daughter. “Something wrong with the exo-frame, I’ll need to take it apart and run a full analysis.”

Stiffly Mei returned her father’s embrace, “Is all this really worth pretending I’m one of your robots?”

“I promised your mother in heaven whatever it took you’d walk again.”


271 words
@DavidALudwig

“Well, that was unexpected.”

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“What else can I say? Who would’a thunk that tossin’ my banana peel on t’that there pile would’a caused that avalanche of sorts?”

“Anyone with half a brain, that’s who!”

“Aw, Come on! I got more’n half! Just a’cause I don’t talk so smooth, doesn’t mean I’m dumb or nuthin’.”

“What about the rest of it?”

“Well, how’s I t’know Billy’d be comin’ outta the kitchen right then? I ain’t a magician!”

“You mean a fortune teller?”

“Whatever. Either way I can’t see through that there door, so how can you blame me for’is fall?”

“It was your mess he stepped in!”

“Yeah, but he didn’t have t’go and toss all that coffee in t’the air, now did’ee? Dropped that coffee right in t’Susan’s lap, he did. I never heard such a shriek – was ev’n louder’n the crash of the crockery.”

“But it didn’t stop there.”

“It certainly wasn’t my fault that Susan chucked her fork across the room! How you gonna blame that on me too!”

“You started it.”

“But it was pure, dumb luck that it hit that lightbulb that shattered on poor Burt and shorted the ‘lectricity out!”

“Luck?!?!”

“Well, t’opposite of luck then, but how could anyone predict Burt catchin’ the edge o’his plate when he went to shield hisself and sending the thing flippin’ across t’table and clockin’ Doris in the head?”

“No one.”

“’Zactly! That’s a one in a’hundred shot that he catch’er right on the temple and knock’er out cold. He couldn’t’a tried t’do that! Not that he was tryin’ a’course.”

“Of course.”

“Well, what was Doris doin’ tuckin’ that table cloth in t’er pants like that? When she fell backwards it pulled the whole thing off! It would’a ended dere if Martin hadn’t’a tried to help.”

“At least he was trying!”

“Yeah, well, we see where that got’im! All tied up in that tablecloth and stumblin’ hisself halfway across t’room! Not so helpful, that.”

“That’s an understatement!”

“I know! Maybe he got some sense knocked in t’him when the front door opened right on t’his head!”

“I just hope he’s not unconscious too!”

“Well, then the suit managed to slip on a piece a’that there crockery when he backed up to get a’look a’what he done and in the process a’fallin’ on his butt he done chucked his briefcase across the bar and on t’the stove! Nobody even know’d he’ad a cigarette in’is hand until the grease fire started.”

“Thank God Pops was there!”

“Sure ‘nough, Pops was thinkin’ on’is feet when he pulled that fire ‘stinguisher down! That could’a been bad.”

“Could’ve been? Did you not hear everything you just said? How could it have been worse?”

“Oh, Maddie, you don’ wanna go sayin’ things like that!”

“Why ever not?”

“I think the suit’ad somethin’ in’is bag… It’s movin’…”

@lissajean7
480 words

Well, that was unexpected.

The wind blew through the back screen door, knocked over my easel, spilled paint all over my carpet and ruined my painting. I’ve been working on that for months.

Wretched wind.

I got up and slammed the door shut, breaking a nail in the process. On my way back to my work, I stepped on one of the brushes in my bare feet, the surprise of it making me hop onto the other foot.
The ungainly movement tipped me in the direction of the china hutch, which broke what would have been my fall and also many of my teacups. Covington Court was a hard to come by and expensive pattern.

Damn wind.

Leaning over to right my easel, I bumped my head on the corner of the end table next to the couch, which toppled my now deceased parents wedding photo. The face-forward fall broke the glass, a shard of which left a huge gouge in the photo. It’s irreplaceable.

Stupid effing wind!

I sat down on the couch, took a deep breath and closed my eyes. From the backyard came a soft tinkling sound, a windchime made by my daughter for Mother’s Day when she was twelve. The sound washed over me, reminding me of her laughter and suddenly I no longer cared about the carnage in my living room.

Beautiful wind.

228 words
@mariefrizelle

Well. That was unexpected.

I came to on a freezing tiled floor, an anxious hand tapping my cheek. The room around mixed locker room and disinfectants. What an awful combination.

“Miss? Ohmygosh, please wake up. Are you okay?” The equally anxious voice continued in time with the tapping. “You’re breathing, that’s good. Um. What else do I check for?”

I lifted a weak hand in self-defense, nearly scaring a decade off my worrier’s life if I could judge by her scream.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “so, so sorry.”

“I’m okay,” I said. Almost sounded like I meant it, too.

Opening one cautious eye, I took in the admittedly limited view from my current location. I saw enough.

Seriously? The floor of a public bathroom?

“How long have I been out?”

“Not too long,” she said. “Had a customer in here not ten minutes ago.”

About the usual, then.

“I came in to tidy up and found you. You can’t imagine my relief in finding you breathing.”

“I’m fairly relieved myself,” I said.

“Can I help you up?” A woman sat on her knees next to me, heedless of the floor. She looked like the neat type, the kind who would consider kneeling on a bathroom floor a big deal. But her kind expression said otherwise.

I accepted the hand she offered with a thank you and sat up. The room did a spinny move I usually only saw my washing machine manage. Saliva coated my mouth in warning.

“I’m gonna be sick.” I groaned, scrambling to my feet and nearly hurling myself head first into a toilet. I heard water running and when I finished offering my guts up to the porcelain gods, soft hands wiped my face clean with damp towels.

“You’re in your pajamas,” she said. “How did you even get in here without me noticing?”

I wish I knew. I listened for sounds of trouble, but only heard something soft and classical. A bell chimed. Another customer.

“This happens often?” she asked.

“Often enough,” I said. “Thank you for helping me.”

“I almost called 911,” she said. “I probably should have done.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I swear I’ve seen your face before.”

Startled, I looked up to her. She held out a paper cup of water, her eyes bright with some emotion I couldn’t decipher. I gulped the water, hoping to clear my head.

“I have,” she said. “I’ve seen you on the news, right? You saved a family from a house fire. And the little boy who nearly drowned. You even foiled a bank robbery.”

Awe. That was the emotion I saw.

“How do you do it?”

“I don’t,” I admitted. “I just show up where I’m needed.”

Generally right when I was needed, as well.

“But here?” Her brow furrowed. “This is just an antique shop. Nothing much exciting happens here.”

A crash from beyond the bathroom had me pressing a hand to her mouth for silence.

“I think your luck just changed,” I whispered.

@caramichaels
500 words