Thursday, July 31, 2014

Broken Mirror Shards - Dr. Claw (Day 4)

Okay, so, it's time for some more Dr. Claw.  But before we go there, here's the links to the other folks participating in the contest or event or whatever the proper name for it would be.

Bria Burton
Rish Outfield

Pretty small number of participants, considering how many sounded interested to begin with, but it's all good.

Here's another installment of my story. 515 words today, which puts me at 3,247.  Hope you enjoy it.

“Hello,” he said when his phone rang.  He listened for a moment, then, “yes, this is Brody McMillan…”  This had become a constant part of his life recently, fielding calls from collections agencies.
It was all true.  He was broke.  He should have seen it coming.  Living the way he’d been living this year, he was bound to run through that money fast, but he’d willfully avoided the news.  He hadn’t looked at his bank balance or statements in more than two months.  He was so angry at himself, because he knew lottery winners were prone to this.  He’d read articles about the phenomenon on the internet before he ever won himself.  He’d sworn that he wouldn’t end up like that when he collected his money, but here he was.  Not only was he out of money, he had run his credit cards to the limit.  He was as bad off as he had been before Jason had challenged him to get something out of that stupid claw machine.
Well, he couldn’t call the claw machine stupid.  That wasn’t fair.  A year of luxury was better than most people got.  He couldn’t complain that he didn’t get a lifetime of luxury instead.  Hell, it was probably his own fault for being so magnanimous.  He gave half of his money to Jason and Todd.  He could have lived another year on that if only he’d been more selfish.  Why didn’t they ever teach the importance of being selfish in kindergarten or on those after school specials on TV?
    As he sat on his designer couch listening with his top-of-the-line iPhone to a brute threatening him about what could happen if he didn’t start paying his bills, he wondered if there was any way out of this mess.  It had seemed hopeless before, but a miracle had swooped down like a god in his flaming chariot and made everything all right.  A lot of times during the past year, he’d figured he should have made a statue of that claw machine, to remember how it had saved him.
    Suddenly, he sat bolt upright in the sofa. He punched the end button, cutting the brute off in mid-threat.  The claw machine was the answer.  Dr. Claw surely had more to offer him.  After all, it had saved him once by sending a winning lottery ticket his way.  Surely it wouldn’t have done that only to let him sink to the bottom for real just one year later.  It had to have some purpose for him.  Whatever god or divine providence or mysterious magical force had put that lottery ticket into the claw’s grasp for him the first time, would surely help him again.  It couldn’t leave him to founder before he ever got to his grand purpose.  After all, his book was coming along, and soon enough he’d finish it.  Maybe that was how he would change the world.
    He grabbed his coat, and headed out into the rain.  He needed to go back to Round Table Pizza, and see what Dr. Claw had in store for him.


  1. Dammit. That happens too often. It's something to do with copying it over from the Google Writer app and pasting it in the blog. For some reason, it goes in as transparent. It's easy to fix, but sometimes I forget to. I'll get it right now.

  2. You might want to establish how much time has passed since he won the lottery. I assumed this was just a little while later, and was surprised that all the money was gone. Of course, that may be your plan--that it snuck up on Brody too.