Word: Poltergeist

 

poltergeist

\ POHL-ter-gahyst \  , noun;

1. a ghost or spirit supposed to manifest its presence by noises, knockings, etc.

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      The dark, old building was, on the surface, just like any other old house.  The antique furniture was covered with a fine layer of dust.  Some of the floorboards creaked underfoot.  And the eyes of the figures in paintings seemed to follow those who wandered the halls.  Currently, there were only two such brave fools though.

                “I don’t like this.”  Said one of them.  He hefted the specially made camera around in front of him, holding it like it would save his life.

                “Why not?”  said the other.  He waved a small metal rod that was connected to a small metal box with blinking lights and a small gauge at the top.

                “I don’t know.  It’s just…it’s just this place gives me the creeps is all.  I just got a bad feeling, you know?”

                “Uh huh.  Well, don’t let it get to you.  I mean, really, what’s the worst that could happen?  A few bats in the attic, maybe a few mice.  Same old same old.”

                “Yeah, I know.  But still.  I just feel like there could actually be something here.”

                “What makes you say that?”

                “Just a feeling, I guess.”

                “I wouldn’t put too much stock in that.  I mean, you did just have Mexican.  That feeling of yours could be the remains of those tacos you ate.”

                “Doesn’t feel like tacos.”

                “Well, what does it feel like then?”

                “I don’t know.  Just…something.  Maybe there really is something here, and that’s it?”

                “Let me ask you something.  How long have we been doing this?”

                “About five years now.”

                “Right, five years.  And how many times have there been actual ghosts in haunted houses?”

                “None.”

                “Exactly.  So what’re the odds of there being one here?”

                “Not very good.”

                “Exactly.  So don’t worry about it too much.”

                No sooner had the words left his lips than a loud crashing noise came from a nearby room.  Both men turned quickly towards the source of the disturbance. 

                “W-what was that?”  Asked the cameraman.

                “Probably just a mouse knocking over a vase or something.”  Another crash soon issued forth. 

                “Two mice?”  Asked the cameraman.

                “Yeah, probably.”  Said the other.

                Another noise came from the same room, a loud thumping one this time.  Slowly but surely, the room in question became noisier and noisier.  The two men looked at each other nervously.  Even the man with the sensor was getting a bit worried that they had finally met a real paranormal phenomenon.

                “S-still think it’s mice?”  Asked the cameraman.

                “Uh, not as much, no.”

                “So what do you think?”

                “No idea, but we gotta check it out.”

                “Are you sure?  I mean, what if there really is a ghost or a poltergeist or something?”

                “If there is, you get it on camera and we hit the jackpot.”  The man said.  He said it to reassure himself as much as his companion.  It didn’t work as well as he had hoped.

“But what if it doesn’t like people and tries to kill us?”

                “Then we run.  Really fast.”

                “Ok, yeah, I guess that sounds like a plan.  But what if it chases us?”

                “Then I guess we’ll just have to improvise.”

                “I suck at that though.”

                “Yeah, me too.  Just go with it.”

                The two men approached the door.  Various noises issued forth.  Crashes, bangs, thumps and other assorted sounds all came from the other side of the door.  The cameraman got his device ready, pointing it forward and hitting the record button.  The two spent a moment letting the camera pick up some of the noises before the one with the scanner placed his hand on the ornate brass doorknob.  He took a deep breath and flung open the door.

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What do they find?  Honestly, not even I know that.  But hey, isn't half the fun of short stories like this coming up with your own ending?  It should be interesting to see who thinks it's the real thing and who thinks it isn't.

Word: pavonine

 

pavonine

\ PAV-uh-nahyn, -nin \  , adjective;

1. of or like a peacock.

2. resembling the feathers of a peacock, as in coloring.

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Jack was quite happy as he walked down the street with his new girlfriend, Abby.  The sun was hidden by just enough clouds to keep it from getting too hot out, and there weren’t many people on the street either.  It had been a very good day for him.  Abby seemed happy to as she glanced through the windows of the shops they passed .  The two would sometimes pause and joke with each other about some of the things they saw in the window.  Suddenly though, Abby stopped dead in front of one of them.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.”  She said.  She quickly darted into the store, leaving Jack more than a little confused. 

He waited for her for several minutes, spending his time watching the sparse crowd and wondering what Abby was doing in the store.  As far as he could tell, it was a just a small clothing store.  One of dozens they had passed by, with nothing special about it.  He was just relived he didn’t have to wait too long.  When she came out though, he was more than a little surprised by what she had on.

“So, you like it?”  She asked hopefully.

“Uh…What, uh, what is it?”  Jack asked nervously. 

“It’s my new hat.  What do you think?”

“It’s…interesting.”  Was all Jack could say.

The hat was hideous.  It possessed an overly wide brim that stretched out passed Abby’s shoulders, with a smallish, round crown.  But it was the colors that threw him off.  The thing looked like it had been pieced together from a combination of random swathes of fabric and peacock feathers.  Colors clashed and mixed with each other at random, with peacock like patterns woven throughout, probably in order to give it some kind of semblance of order.  It clashed horribly with everything else Abby wore.

“What’s the matter?  You don’t like it?”  Abby said.  Her eyes narrowed playfully as she saw through his words.

“Uh, well…” he said.  He knew he was trading on thin ice here.  He couldn’t just say he hated it, otherwise there could be hell to pay. 

“Yeah, you don’t like it.  Why not though?  It’s a great hat.  I mean feel it.  Just feel it!” 

She proceeded to bend over and prod Jack with the top of the hat, poking his face and head with the thing.  It felt the same as it looked.  Each different color had a different feel.  Some were soft, others were tough.  Some felt like leather, others like cotton.  It was like some third grader’s attempt at hat making.

Jack backed away a few steps to escape Abby and her new accessory.  She was clearly enjoying herself though, as she continued to move in close with the thing every time he backed away.  Soon though, she stopped dead and stood up straight. 

“Ooo, I just had an idea.” She said gleefully.

“Uh, what’s that?”  Jack asked, hoping it was to take the hat and burn it.  She took it off and placed it on Jack’s head before he could protest.

“You wear it.  That was, you can learn to appreciate fine fashion.”

“Uh, right.”  Jack said, at a complete loss for words. Although it would be fine for a hot, sunny day, that day it was just heavy and cumbersome.  Plus, the shallow crown made it abnormally difficult to keep it on his head.  A stiff breeze would probably carry it away, since it didn’t have a chinstrap.  He lamented that it wasn’t a windy day.

“So, what do you think?”

“Honestly? I think I look ridiculous.”

“No way, you look great!  Here, check it out.”  Abby said.

She guided him over to the store window, where his reflection appeared in the glass.  Just as he thought, he looked ridiculous.  There was nothing great or flattering about the horrible thing.

“Yeah, I look stupid.”  Jack said.  “I really hate to tell you this, but this is not a nice hat.”  Abby huffed and snatched the hat off his head before returning it to her own.

“Well, I can see such an amazing work of art is lost on you then.  I, however, will continue to wear it proudly.”

“Uh, right.  You do that.  Just, uh, do me a favor.”

“Shoot.”

“Could you maybe stand a few feet away from me while you have it on?”  He said with a wry grin. 

“Why you little…”  Abby said.  “I will smite you for not believing in the hat!”  She called out in a mock threat. 

Abby dashed forward, charging playfully at Jack, who ran the other way.  People watched the two of them chase each other through the sidewalk while laughing like maniacs.   Jack didn’t even care about how bad the hat was anymore.  Well, for awhile anyway. 

***********************

I'm sure that somewhere out there a hat like this exists.  I'm quite glad I haven't seen one, but there's no doubt in my mind it's out there.  

Word: Mythomane

   

mythomane

\ MITH-uh-meyn \  , noun;

1. a person with a strong or irresistible propensity for fantasizing, lying, or exaggerating.

adjective:

1. of, pertaining to, or characteristic of a mythomane.

************************************

             “So, Barry, where were you last night?”  Karl asked.  The group of three guys listened to their fourth friend’s answer as they walked through the courtyard.

                “I was on a date.”  Barry said proudly.

                “A date?  You?  No way.”  One of the group, Mike, said in surprise.  Barry had never been one to be with a girl for very long.  Not only were his looks subpar, but his social skills with people outside their small group was severely lacking as well. 

                “It’s true.  I was out with a lady last night.”  Barry puffed out his chest with pride.  “A real one.”  He continued, anticipating the inevitable question from one of his friends.

                “Oh yeah?  What’s her name?”  Karl asked.

                “Lisa.”  Barry said.

                “Hm.  Pretty common.  Could be real or fake.”  Said Greg, another member of the group. 

                “I don’t know.  He usually has to think about it for a sec.  I think he’s telling the truth here.”  Mike replied.

                “I am.  I totally am.” 

                “Well, I guess congratulations are in order here.”  Karl said.  “So, tell us about her.  She hot?”

                “Oh yeah.  Really hot.”  Barry said, “She could be a bikini model if she wanted.”

                The rest of the group looked at each other skeptically.  Then they looked at Barry’s short, pudgy form.  There was no way he could score a date with a girl like that. 

                “What do you think?  He telling the truth here?”  Greg asked.

                “Hm.  Well, this could be an eye of the beholder thing.”  Todd, the last member of the group, said.  “On the other hand, this could be one of those times.”  He continued, stressing the word “those.” All four of them looked at Barry with complete understanding.

                “Uh, what was that?”  Barry asked.

                “You sure you’re telling the truth?”  Mike asked.

                “Definitely.”

                “You sure it’s not like the time you said you beat a bunch of guys at a tug-of-war single handed, when it was just your little cousins?”

                “Or the time you said you got the all time high score on a bunch of games, when it was just on your home system?”  Todd chimed in.

                “Or how can we forget the time he read three comic book series in a night, when each of them only had six books between them.”  Greg said.

                “N-No way!”  Barry exclaimed before anyone else could say anything.  “This is totally real!”

                “Really?  Then show us where she is.”  Karl said.  The others chuckled.

                “I would, but I don’t know where she is.”  Barry said. 

                “Barry, hey! Over here!”  As if on cue, the voice of a girl chimed out from across the courtyard.  She ran up to him and wrapped her arms tightly around him.  Barry didn’t seem nearly as pleased to see her though. 

                The other four members looked at her with interest.  She was slightly shorter than Barry was, but much thinner.  In fact, she was pencil thin just about everywhere.  Her face was cute, at best, especially with the large, round glasses she wore.  She wasn’t an unattractive girl, but she wasn’t anything particularly special either.

                “I take it this is Lisa.” Karl asked, trying to suppress the laughter that was welling up in his throat.

                “Yeah, this is her.”  Barry said.

                “Hi!  It’s really nice to meet you all.”  Lisa said without even waiting to be introduced.

                “Likewise.”  Mike said, casting a sidelong glance at the others.

                “I’d like to talk more, but I’ve got to get to class.  I’ll see you all later.  Especially you Barry.”  Lisa said before running off as quickly as she came.

                “So, what do you guys think?  Model material?”  Greg said, struggling to contain his laughter.

                “Oh yeah, definitely.”  Todd said.  “I’m sure she’d do real well.”

                “S-shut up!”  Barry said.  The other four couldn’t contain themselves anymore and burst out laughing.  Barry turned bright red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. 

                    “Sorry, man, but really.”  Mike said, patting Barry on the shoulder.  “You could’ve gone a bit lighter on that one.  I mean, seriously.”

                “You guys are jerks.”  Barry said, brushing off his friend’s hand.  He stormed off, muttering to himself.

                “Think we were too hard on him?”  Todd asked once Barry had gotten far enough away.

                “Meh.  No more than usual.”  Karl replied.

                “Yeah.  He just needs some time to cool off.  Ten he’ll come back and make up some other wild story.”  Greg said, nodding to himself.

                “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”  Todd said.  “So, should we go after him?”

                “Nah.  He’ll catch up in a few minutes anyway.”  Karl said, “’Sides, we gotta get going too.” 

                The group headed off towards their destination.  It wasn’t long before Barry came back, keeping his distance behind the others, still acting mad at them for making fun of him.  The other four just kept walking, knowing he would eventually forget all about it when he came up with another of his highly exaggerated stories.
**********************************
Ok, I admit, I'm a little worried I included too many characters for a story of this length.  That and the ending might not be as good as it could be, but that's how it is for a lot of things, right?  Either way, I hope everyone enjoys it, such as it is.

Word: Foremost

 

foremost

\ FAWR-mohst, -muhst, FOHR- \  , adjective, adverb;

1. first in place, order, rank, etc.: the foremost surgeons .

****************************

                I can do this.  I’m so close.  Just a few more feet, and I’ll win!  Finally, I’m going to win!  I’ve never come in first before, and now it’s finally going to happen.  I’m finally going to show people that I can be good at something.  They always said the only thing I was the best at was losing.  Well, look at me now!  I’m in first place, and that’s not gonna change!

                Wait, I am in first place, right?  I don’t see anyone in front of me, so I must be.  I’d better check.  NO!  Looking anywhere but right in front of me is a waste of energy.  Keep my eyes on the finish line, that’s the best way.  So close.  So close to no longer losing.  I’ll be good that things.  Maybe I can finally become the best at something.  Well, other than being in last place.  Because I’m in first now, and nobody can change that!

                Wait, what was that?  Did I just kick something?  Nah.  Couldn’t be.  The track is clean and smooth.  Nothing to trip over here.  But then, why is the ground getting closer really fast?  Huh.  I guess I did trip over something.  Well, that doesn’t matter too much.  I’ve heard of people tripping in races and still winning.  That’s what I’ll d.  Heck, it doesn’t even hurt very much.  I can keep going.  I’m still in first, after all.  This might even be a good thing.  If I trip and fall, but still win, that’ll make me seem even better to others.  I just have to stand up and go.

                Hold on, why isn’t my leg working right?  My right leg is working fine, but my left doesn’t seem to want to move.  Hmm.  Well, I’m sure my lead is big enough that I can still go, right?  Wait, why is everyone stopping?  I haven’t finished yet, and I don’t think anyone else has either.  Is there something wrong with the finish line or the track or something?  I didn’t see anything. 

                And who are these guys?  They’re not runners.  In fact, they look like EMTs.  Oh, right.  That’s because they are.  Duh.  Why do I need them though?  It’s only a scratch.  It’s not like that ever stopped anyone.  Hey now, they’re getting in my way.  I’m trying to run here, and they’re trying to keep me on the ground.  That’s not cool.  Dude, they’re not even listening to me.  I keep telling them I’m fine.  It’s like they don’t believe me or something.

                Hm?  Wait, what’s that?  That lump wasn’t there before.  In fact, my leg looks kinda weird.  It’s all bendy and stuff.  I’m pretty sure I’m not double jointed or anything.  Actually, none of the bends are in the normal place.  Ow.  What was that?  Why is my leg starting to hurt so much?  Well, I can’t let a little pain stop me.  I’ve got a race to win.  I gotta show people I can be the best at something, right? 

                Wow, my leg is really hurting.  Like, really bad.  Is it that big lump in there?  Or is it that my foot is kinda…twisted?  Or maybe it’s both.  OW!  Hey, man, that hurt!  I thought these guys were supposed to be helping me, and here they are stuffing my leg into some kind of clamp or something.  Wow, this really hurts.  Why does it…Oh.  Oh dear.  I broke my leg, didn’t I?  Wow, that sucks.  Now how am I gonna show people what I can do.  At this rate, I’ll just be the best loser who got hurt on a smooth running track.  That’s not cool.  Man, this hurts really bad.  Well, I guess I’ll think about it after…I… 

***********************************

I'm sure (s)he'll be fine. I'll leave exactly what happens to your imagination though.