||Short Story | One Shots||
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Like how cameras capture moments, so do words. With words, memories and moments are held as captives of time, in a single frame--much like a picture. Here lies a collection of one-shots, con...
Prompt: Describe the day of the week as if they were people.
Word Count: 820
In Dayland
Saturday's house.
"Whose day is it again when the sun rises up? We need to bless the mortal world." Tuesday picked at her nails, huffing an annoyed, bored breath.
"I think it's Monday's." Thursday quipped up, grinning as her blonde curls bounced up and down in delight. "Only six more days to the weekend, and I am one of them. Yeep!"
"Kill me now." Monday frowned, groaning as he buried his face in his hands.
"It's not Friday?" Friday asked, tugging at the hem of her extremely short dress. This caused her breasts to be pushed up and Sunday let out a whistle. She narrowed her cat-like eyes at him, blinking seductively. "Fuck. I wanted to get some booze at the club, maybe some ass."
Sunday smirked. "Well since I am going to end soon, I will volunteer." He frowned. "After my very unflattering panic attack of course... which is due...any time now." He ran his hand through his dark, voluminous hair.
"Eww. Get a room. I do not want to be sandwiched in the middle of you." Saturday's lip curled.
Sunday leaned across the table, raising his eyebrows. "Oh honey, you already are there. Just make it count."
Saturday placed a finger on his chest and shoved. "No thanks, buddy."
Suddenly Sunday's eyes widened and everyone in the room braced themselves for the outburst to come, except for Thursday who just clasped his hand, soothing him. "It's ok, Sunday. Relax. Before you know the weekend will come again. It has to first go through me, yes. But relax."
Saturday drew a long breath. Everyone mimicked her as they watched the drama unfold.
"No. No. It can't be Monday. My time simply cannot be over." Sunday threw his head left and right, dramatically weeping. And then he promptly collapsed onto the floor, clutching at his heart. "Oh, my soul."
"Gee, and you are not even me." Monday grumpily replied, his tone wry and snarky.
Suddenly loud sobs could be heard from the corner of the room and all the Days turned toward it. There lay Wednesday curled in a small ball, his glasses stained with tears. "I am the middle of the week. Everyone wants my time to be over. There is an eternity between the beginning of the week and the weekend. They curse me. They say why can't Wednesday go by faster? The weekend is days away. They hate me!" He broke out into sobs and Thursday ran over to him, caressing his dark brown hair.
"Aww, Wednesday. Don't cry. We love you."
Monday snorted. "No, we don't. He is right. Everyone hates the middle of the fucking week."
Saturday rolled her eyes. "Everyone hates you more, Monday."
Friday preened. "Everyone loves me. Drinks on the house y'all?" She tossed her dark curls over a shoulder as she raised a bottle of vodka. "Whoooo's ready to get the party started?"
Tuesday huffed. "Pass me a glass. I am stuck between an absolute loner," she gestured toward Monday and he harrumphed, and then waved over to Wednesday, "and an idiot without an iota of self-esteem."
Wednesday looked up from between his knees. 'You think I am worthless?" His lips wobbled and then burst into a dam of tears again. "I knew it!"
Thursday shushed him.
Saturday slapped a palm to her forehead. She pointed at Friday who was preening her large chest and then Sunday sprawled out on the floor. "I am stuck between a slut and a man-whore with anxiety issues. I have it worse, Tuesday."
Tuesday gave her a level look. "Whateva." She blew a large bubble of gum, and Saturday stiffened.
"That is filthy." Her sneer made her beautiful, serene face twisted and Monday smirked. Her sneer deepened.
"What's your problem, Saturday?" Thursday spat.
"I don't want pieces of gum stuck in my hair, thank you very much. It ruins my perfect appearance."
"Everyone loves Saturday. The mortals relax on Saturdays because Saturdays are so perfect." Monday mimicked her voice.
"Well, it's true! However, stuck for eons between those two has made me bitter and not as perfect as before." She shrugged.
"But guys," Thursday chirped, beaming. "I am the best. I bring the promise of the weekend, but also am not the weekend to pass by too quickly and make you craving for the next already." She let out a large squeal. "Duh!"
Suddenly the door thundered open and everyone in the room froze. The intruder had a long sword across his back and his face was cast in shadows. A fire-like glow surrounded him. And when he spoke, everyone's nerves melted into a puddle.
He boomed, "I am Doomsday, and I am the best because after I come, none of you will exist."
Everyone screamed.
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