Friday, September 27, 2013

Sorry

I've got nothing today.  G+ changed their photo editor and it sucks now because they don't have all the cool filters so I'm on the hunt for a new free photo editor for a week or two.  Hopefully I'll be back with more Photo-Microfic on the second Monday from now. In the meantime, I've got a couple of continuing education classes to keep up with and I'm going to try to get through both of them without losing focus.

To everyone who misses these stories, I want to say thank you. You're the reason I keep posting them. See you soon.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Photo-Microfic: Just as Sweet

Photo taken by Steven Ormosi with his Samsung Galaxy S3 and edited in G+. Click on the picture for a larger version.

Just as Sweet



We hit the bridge late at night. We had all been drinking and partying in the city and it was nice to lay my head on the window and watch the lights fade into the distance, bridge posts flashing past my eyes as we went. I tried to keep count but my mind wandered after three.

The others were talking, but I wasn’t listening. I was thinking about the girl I had met. The one I’d never see again. The one I probably wouldn’t even be able to remember tomorrow. A snap and she was gone. Like the bridge posts flying by out the window. But I remembered her now and cursed myself for not asking for her number.

We were both so drunk, but I held on to her memory. She had orangey hair and an insane laugh and a scathing sense of humor and her name was Stephanie… or was it Sarah?

Monday, September 23, 2013

Photo-Microfic: Plague at the Gates

Photo taken by Steven Ormosi with his Samsung Galaxy S3 and edited in G+. Click on the picture for a larger version.

Plague at the Gates



A nameless meatbag finished barring the door and then looked back to his partner.

“Thousands of ‘em. Millions maybe. They’re all standing outside, with their dead eyes, trying to get in here,” he said.

“Don’t worry, those walls are thick as your skull, they’re not coming in here,” the other replied.

“Well so what? We can’t get out either. What happens when we run out of food.”

“Eh, I’m sure they’ll move on by then.  They’re still animals, right? They’re sitting out there, trying to get to a meal that will feed what? Three of ‘em? Any animal that has a survival instinct is gonna move on before too long.”

“But what if they don’t need to eat? They’re zombies, they just live forever, right?”

“How many times do I have to tell you, they’re not zombies. They’re just people whose brains stopped working. They’re sick. Not monsters.”

“But what if they don’t go away, though? What if they just stay there?”

“Then we’ll see how long it takes ‘em to starve to death, I guess. Now enough with the twenty questions, there’s no use in worrying about things that we can’t control. We got more important things to concern ourselves with, like not letting this dinner get cold.”

We heard it all through the ventilation shaft as we crept toward them willing our bodies to stop, praying for some way to control ourselves. Instead we burst through the vent, nearly tripping over ourselves in anticipation.
 
We caught them, as usual. And they screamed. I always dreaded the first bite, the release of endorphins mixed with the taste of living flesh. Locked inside my killing coffin as it feasted, what scared me most was that soon I might start to like it.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Photo-Microfic: Wicker Throne

Photo taken by Steven Ormosi with his Samsung Galaxy S3 and edited in G+. Click on the picture for a larger version.

Wicker Throne



In the garden out back there is a chair that my mom says has always been there. Despite my skepticism, I can’t argue with her, it’s been there all my life. When we were kids, my sisters and I would take turns sitting in it and pretend we were queens of the garden. We had dominion over all the flowers. Isabel and Rita liked the daffodils, and daisies, and tulips. They would pretend to always be at grand balls and tea parties with the flower people. I liked roses the best because they were the most dangerous and I would pretend I was a protector queen. I would make those roses grow and their thorns would defend the whole kingdom. All from atop my wicker throne.

I haven’t seen my sisters in almost 25 years. And the throne is growing decrepit, just like mom. She lies in a bed upstairs mumbling to herself and I take my seat one last time to try and protect her, but the throne has lost its magic. I weep for my kingdom.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Photo-Microfic: Rural Legend

Photo taken by Steven Ormosi with his Samsung Galaxy S3 and edited in G+. Click on the picture for a larger version.

Rural Legend



“It lives in there?” asked Jake.

“That’s what they say. I’ve heard that it eats nothing but the bones of humans. Spits out all the guts and skin,” said Kat.

Jake gulped, “Amanda told me that no one has ever gone inside and come back out alive.”

“Well go on. You said you’d take the dare. Get inside and see what happens.”

“I don’t think I want to go in anymore,” said Jake, “I don’t want anything eating my bones.”

“What are you, a chicken?” Kat began to cluck at Jake.

“Stop it. I’m not a chicken.”

Kat continued clucking.

“Ok, ok. I’m going. Just shut up.”

Jake stepped into the entrance and breathed a sigh of relief when it seemed there was nothing in the darkness.

His breath caught in his throat when he heard the sound of pouring liquid filling something up. Two large yellow eyes opened and glowed, staring straight into him.

“Cup of tea?” asked a gravelly voice from behind the eyes.

Jake ran out, past Kat, and straight home, screaming the whole way.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Print Run?

Would anyone be at all interested in reasonably priced prints of any of these pictures I've been running?  I could probably do them with or without the story attached. I would have to look into pricing/feasibility, but it's something I've been thinking about and if you would be interested, let me know either here, or on Facebook, or G+, or the Twitterz @steevo83, or email me at steevo83 at gmail dot com, or call me if you happen to know my number, or send smoke signals, but that's it, there are no other ways to get in touch.

Monday, September 16, 2013

Photo-Microfic: The Bends

Photo taken by Steven Ormosi with his Samsung Galaxy S3 and edited in G+. Click on the picture for a larger version. Photo featuring Andrew Uporsky.

The Bends




We drove and drove at the morning sun. Absolution was always just around the next bend. He made dark jokes while I tried to push down my shame with false pride. He seemed genuinely happy. I was empty inside.

I felt the ghosts I thought we’d left in the dust miles ago. They were always just behind the last bend. There was nothing else for it. I said, "Just drive." So we did. We drove until the sun became the moon and the clouds became the stars and then we kept driving.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Skip Week 1

Hey everyone, I'm going to run a skip week here and come back on next Monday.  I've heard several people say that they like at least some of the microfic I've been putting out, so I'm going to get back to work on it this week.  Thanks for all the people I've heard from and I'll have more next Monday.

In the meantime:

http://i.imgur.com/6xAVIgT.gif


Friday, September 6, 2013

Photo-Microfic: Starlet

Photo taken by Steven Ormosi with his Samsung Galaxy S3 and edited in G+. Click on the picture for a larger version. Photo featuring Daria Uporsky.

Starlet



She had just stopped in to see how we were doing, she said. Wanted to make sure everything was taken care of.

We told her, “Sure, we’re fine. We’re just glad to see you now that you’re a big star. We’re happy just to know you’re thinking of us.”

She smiled a little half-smile at us as her manager ushered her back into the car, said she’d see us around. We knew it was a lie, but we replied much the same.

And then they took her away.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Crisis of Faith

From Facebook (re: Photo-Microfic posts):


Hits and feedback on these have steadily gone down since I started doing them. This leads me to believe that they are not that good or interesting. Which means once the next one runs on Friday, I'm going to take a break and try to work out how to proceed with these, or if it's worth it to keep posting them for everyone to see. Does anyone honestly read these 3 times a week and like them? It's pointless to keep posting them publically if I'm the only one getting enjoyment out of it. Sorry for clogging your feeds everyone! Only one more to go.

Photo-Microfic: One More Song

Photo taken by Steven Ormosi with his Samsung Galaxy S3 and edited in G+. Click on the picture for a larger version.

One More Song



My vision began to blur and my cigarette dropped from my hand.

I turned to Zack, “What were those pills we took, again?”

He looked at me and laughed, “I can’t remember.”

“Stop laughing,” I told him, squinting hard to make out his quickly dissipating features, “And try.”

My head became very light.  Zack fell into me and we both toppled over.

I looked at all of the feet around us. They began to turn towards us. People started shouting. The last thing I remember hearing though, was the opening riff of “Don’t Stop Believing”.

“Oh, I love this song,” I thought.

Monday, September 2, 2013

Photo-Microfic: Skipping Stones

Photo taken by Steven Ormosi with his Samsung Galaxy S3 and edited in G+. Click on the picture for a larger version.

Skipping Stones



We gathered a nice pile of flat stones and then we stood at the water’s edge and tried to skip them all the way across. They never made it to the other bank. We couldn't think of anything to talk about, my pop and me. So we just kept on skipping them rocks.

Eventually, I said, “You know they’ll catch up to you, right?  You can’t run forever.”

“I know,” he said, whipping a good one across the surface of the water “I called ‘em right before we came down here, told ‘em where I’d be tonight. Even gave you the credit for the tip so you can collect the reward money. I’m turning myself in, son. I just wanted to come out to the lake one last time and skip stones like we used to.”