The Noisy Woods

I was given the prompt "Write a story or poem about the song 'Purple People Eater'" If you don't know what that is then check out the video here.
And here is the result.

Three nights. That's how long Timmy had been kept awake at night. Tonight was no different, he lay there staring at the ceiling of his bedroom getting more annoyed and curious than ever. It wasn't rowdy neighbours or insomnia that kept him up. It was a mysterious noise, a noise that sounded like a really bad saxophone player.
Living on the edge of town between the main graveyard and the bordering woods meant that he had his fair share of the strange and bizarre instances. He once had to hunt down a satanic cult that was in taking meetings in the woods. Not because he had anything against Satanism, it was the screaming of the sacrificial cat that was disturbing his movie time.
He had sought them out without thinking about it but here he was, a grown man of 28, sitting wide awake terrified of what? Someone that is so bad at playing the saxophone that his family sends him to the woods to practice? No, that wasn't it. He felt there was something more to it, something much worse.
It wasn't just the noise that kept him awake at night, he already tried using ear plugs. Nope this was something deeper, something that penetrated right to his very core. A primal fear.
"Come on, gather yourself together and fix this thing head on!" Timmy was suddenly on his feet and shouting at himself, "You've dealt with worse than this. Go out and deal with it!"
With this self motivating speech he decided to phone his best friend and try and persuade him to come over and help with whatever it was.
*Ring... Ring...Click* "Hello?" An inquesitive voice comes from the other end of the phone.
"Mick? It's Timmy, I really need your help out here. Can you head over to mine right now?"
"What? It's half three in the morning. Is it not something that can wait till morning?" Mick says groggily.
"No it really can't. I'll explain when you come over but we need to head to the woods to deal with some idiot, so bring your big flash light and baseball bat."
"Fine, I'll be there in five" *Click*
Timmy suddenly gets a surge of adrenaline at the thought of Mick and him going out and sorting this problem out. While thinking about what he's going to do to whomever it is he gets dressed and heads out to wait for Mick.

"Five minutes you said. It's been twenty." Timmy exasperated explains to Mick while pointing to his watch to make sure that he got the point.
"I had to get dressed for the occasion didn't I?" Mick explains while showing that he has kitted himself out with boots, camouflage jacket and of course carrying his trusted baseball bat, "Anyway what's the big hub bub about?"
Timmy explains about the noise while they both start heading into the woods, not really knowing which way to start out and simply following their ears.
"It sounds like it's coming from over there, next to the clearing," Mick whispers.
Timmy, nodding, heads west towards the clearing and signals for Mick to go round the other side. If they were going to get this guy they were making sure that he didn't have an escape Timmy thought to himself.
As he got closer he saw that there a light in the clearing and a shadow moving about. Stepping up to the edge of the clearing gave him a full view and what he saw literally took his breath away.
Up in the branches of the biggest tree sat a massive winged creature with what appeared to be a huge horn on its head. The creature only had one eye but it saw Timmy as soon as he entered the clearing.
Taking up on its huge wings it flew down in an attack on Timmy. There was nothing that he could do, the creature might have been huge but it was quick and it was on him within the time it took for him to take a breath. It landed on the ground directly in front of him but the force that blew from his wings forced Timmy to take cover on the ground.
At this moment Mick came running out the clearing, baseball bat held high to defend Timmy. The creature must have had a sixth sense, thought Timmy, as it grabbed both the baseball bat and Mick's throat in the blink of an eye. Seeing Mick as a threat it pulled his arm clean off, blood sprayed everywhere, hitting Timmy in the process. Mick screamed out in pain as the creature tossed aside the arm, still clutching the baseball bat.
"No! Stop please, don't me" Mick managed to shout during screams of pain. Somehow the creature managed to look disgusted by this and threw him clean across the clearing, knocking Mick out in the process.
Timmy still sat on the edge of the clearing, not knowing what to do. He just sat there clutching at himself while trying to find his voice to scream for help.
"And what of you? Should I not eat you either?" The creature asked Timmy calmly.
Flabbergasted Timmy could only manage to mumble a response, "Well that would be nice. What is it that you want? How can you speak or at least that I understand you?"
"I once used to be like you, human. I was a geneticist and I decided that a project was ready for human trials.. Problem was that it was way too early, I mean look at me. I couldn't return home and I certainly couldn't let my co-workers find out what I had done. If they could have helped me I would then have been arrested for commencing human trials early. So I ran, well flew."
Timmy is still in a state of shock that he is having a conversation with this creature but he managed to regain some of his composure and carried on as best he could, "So was that you that's been making the noises for the past few day?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so. Is that how you came to find me? To put a stop to my music?"
"Music? Well I perhaps wouldn't have called it that but yes"
"Fine, I've made a decision anyway. I think I will put this ungodly thing that happened to me to use. I'm going to try and stop crime in the city. Sorry about you're friend I hope that he's alright."
Then with a mighty push with his wings he was away into the night sky leaving Timmy there to wonder if everything had actually just happened. It was then that he broke down in tears and lay down, hoping to wake up back in his own bed.

Three weeks had passed since the meeting with the creature. He still didn't sleep much better but for other reasons now and Mick was hopefully getting out of the hospital within the next week.
Turning on the TV Timmy saw the end of a news segment that caught his attention.
"-all found murdered in their home in a vicious manner. It appears that someone has severed their limbs from the rest of the body. It is thought that the victims were the head members of an Italian crime syndicate.
Police have nothing to go on at the moment except that one passerby is said to have heard saxophone playing at the time of the murder..."

The Book

I was given the prompt "Write a story or poem about finding something thought lost forever."
And here is the result.

The house only had a few snippets of life left in it. It had been a tough job but we were nearly finished clearing out my father’s house of all his belongings. Yes, tough, both physically and mentally, my dad had died only the three weeks ago and this was us just getting round to clearing the house out.
It brought back floods of memories for me, I mean it was only me and him growing up. My mum had died when I was young and it meant leaving my dad to take care of me. He did an amazing job of it as well, even with all the female stuff that fathers usually run away from.
"Is this the last box that you’re taking then Lucy?" My husband, David, had just walked back in to the room, shirt sticking to him with sweat. The day had involved a lot of heavy lifting, my dad always bought stuff that was made to last. Luckily for me I didn't have to get involved, David had enlisted the help of one his friends, Harold, to give him a hand with the heavy lifting.
"Yeh, that's the last of it, can you pop that book in it before taping it shut," I pointed loosely in the direction of where I had left the book. The adventures of Huckleberry Finn, it had been my dad's favourite book ever since he was a child, actually he had had that copy since he was a child. I often wondered what was keeping it together, the glue must have failed years ago, 'sheer love' was usually the answer that he gave me. The thought of that mad the lump grow a little bigger in the back of my throat, he was really gone and not coming back.
"What book are you talking about? There's nothing over here," David called over to me, snapping me out of my trance. I turned round, sighing as I did, men you can't leave to them to do anything.
"What are you talking about? I left the book on top of a pile stuff over here before we had lunch. It can't have just got up and walked off," I stopped short as I was walking over. There was no pile of stuff, and no book. No, I needed this book, it was my last connection to my dad.
"Where did all the stuff go that was piled in this corner?" I asked turning to David, my eyes filling up.
"I'm pretty sure that I gave it to Harold for the charity shop."
"What? Why? How could you just send some of my father’s possessions to the charity shop without asking me first? There could have been family treasures in it, hell what am I saying there was!" I was getting worked up now I could feel it.
David was taken aback, "I did ask you, I remember saying 'What's to happen to this stuff in the corner?' You just waved your hand at it and said it could go to the charity shop. Give someone else a chance of enjoying it"
My heart sank, I did remember saying that to him. Maybe I didn't put it on top of that pile then maybe I had put it on top of some other pile in the room. But I looked round, there was nothing left but the box sitting in the middle of the room. I ran over to it, knowing that it wouldn't be there, but I had to hope.
"Help me look through this then, maybe it's already been packed away," I called over to David.
"Honey it's not there, you know it's not," he had a sympathetic look on his face.
I couldn't take it anymore, I just sat in the middle of the floor and broke down in tears. After all the stress of the couple of weeks this was the tipping point. It may seem to many that it was just a simple book, but to me it was my last connection to my dad. Every time I would look at it I would be reminded of him, every time I flicked through the pages I would get a whiff of his favourite tobacco and whiskey. Now it was away, away to be sold for some pitiful amount.
"Phone Harold see if he's been-" I stopped short, David had already got his phone out and was talking to Harold. Hoping that he had decided to leave taking the boxes until the next day. The look on his face was enough to tell me that he hadn't though.
"No, no that's no problem. Thanks. The British Heart Foundation, on Main Street. No problem I'll give them a shout. Thanks again for the help the day, I owe you a beer or five." He hung up the phone and looked at me, "Sorry honey but he went straight in on the way home."
Admitting defeat I stood up and wiped the tears from my eyes. I would need to head over there tomorrow and hope that they hadn't had the time to sort through the boxes. Hope that it was still sitting there waiting for me, I would pay the pitiful amount they charged for it. But I knew that it was worth so much more to me.

"First thing this morning?" I was staring at the old women in the charity shop, my mouth hanging open. I had got there first thing this morning hoping that they hadn't been through the boxes, turned out they had a bunch of volunteers go through them the night before. The major problem was that someone had already bought it.
"He seemed very keen on it, said that there might have been some value in it what with it being so old and that."
"Yeh it had value. Massive sentimental value to me." I lowered my head in defeat. There was nothing else to do but go home and remember his life in our ways. I knew he would always be with me. But somehow it didn't feel quite as strong without the physical bond of the book.

Another week had passed since I lost out on the book. I would still look through his stuff, in the book shelves, anywhere, just in the hopes that it would suddenly show up. I knew it wouldn't but maybe.
Ding Dong
"Package for Ms Lucy Anderson," The DHL driver seem cheery, too cheery for a delivery driver, "If you would just sign here thanks"
I looked at it puzzled, I hadn't ordered anything and it was still a long way off from my birthday. I waited until I was at the kitchen table to open it, getting a knife from the kitchen drawer.
I almost lost my balance when I saw what it was that fell out. The adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Not just any copy of it though, his copy. My dad's copy, I knew it was. I could still smell him on it. My heart lifted, a smile spread on my face. But how, how had it managed to find me again? There wasn't anything in the book that said it was owned to me.
Then I looked inside the parcel box and saw a handwritten note, "to my munchkin, Dad x"

The meeting point

I was given the prompt "Write a short story or poem about two old men sitting on a park bench. Why are they there, and what are they talking about?"
And here is the result.

There was a scratching at the door and that could mean only one thing, time to take Ralph out for his afternoon walk. I sometimes wondered if that dog of mine was connected to the atomic clock. "Fine," I shouted at him, "Let's get your stuff and head out." Like he understood, he started getting more agitated and running about even faster. Ralph wasn't the only one I thought ran off the atomic clock, as I reached the park I noticed that Archie was already there, as usual, waiting for his old friend Tommy. "Ah, there you're there Tommy. Wondered what was keeping you." "Oh shut it you. I'm getting old, takes me a while to get things done doesn't it" "Aye that's true. I used to be able to get down to the pub, have a swift half and then the rest of the half and back in time for countdown. I missed the first round yesterday, only 'cause I had to go pee. Damn bladder of mine. Mind you I still got the conundrum" "You? You wouldn't even know what a conundrum is. I was always the better one at English in school." "School? Now that's going back some time ain't it?" Archie suddenly looks solemn, "Just how long have we known each other now then?" "God, asking the difficult questions today ain't you? Well I think you moved in down the street from me when we were what? Seven?" "So what? Seventy two years I've had to look at your face?" "Hey this face has kept you going throughout the years. I'm the one that pushed you down the aisle with Eileen, most amazing woman I've ever met, apart from my own Maggie that is. I'm the one that put you right when you had your operation, hell I was running about after you something stupid. I still say that you milked that for more than it's worth." "Don't give me it I was near death with that one and I still thank you to this day for looking after me. I'm just thankful that Eileen wasn't here to see it, I don't know what she would have done. She was a strong woman but I don't think she was that strong. Anyway I've been there for you plenty of times as well, I mean what about that turn you took when you're Maggie died? You had no one over here, so who was it that forced you back out into the world? Me!" "Aye, ok. Truce, we've been there for each other throughout the years. What's your point?" "Well, I'm not sure what I would do if you were to go that's all." "Oh God you're getting soppy on me now ain't you. Is it not time for you to head over to the pub?" "Yeh, I guess you're right. You not coming over with me then?" "No, I think I'll just sit here for a bit lot longer, take in the park sights for a change" "Alright, see you later Tommy," Archie turned and gave his old friend a wave goodbye as he started away. Well that would be Ralph was happy for another few hours, he would be scratching at the door later on tonight though. And there was Archie heading off for his swift half. It had been hard on the old lad ever since Tommy died last month, but I think he's starting to get over it now.