Tuesday’s tale, 8/22/17.


Alright, another Tuesday and another five minutes. Things are going to heat (heh) up!

The mask was barely on with its charcoal freshly replaced when the cloud billowed forth all at once and all around him, making it impossible to see.

He could still hear though, and most of what he could hear were screams and car wrecks. He hunkered down in a doorway for a five count and then got up and kept going; speed was the only thing that would save him now.

He made it to the subway in time, fighting his way through the crowd of people who were thankfully too blinded to see his mask. He debated trying to tell them not to go up, not to go into that… but there was no way he would be heard over the roar of other throats, and that of the breaking machinery below.

He wanted the others to clear, but there was no time; he set about clearing his path down.

And there we have it, five minuted elapsed. I didn’t do so well this time. Hopefully, next week will be better.


Tuesday’s Tale, 8/15/17.


Surprise! I’m actually a bit early today, for me and blogging at least. I’ve got my coffee, got my solitude, and got my health for the moment. All that means it is officially writing time. So five minutes on the clock and away we go!

The only correct way to go was down, conversely. This he knew; while the gases would travel down and the ash would settle after, if he was fast enough he could take the subway and outrun both.

He had known, in the back of his mind, that he would fight all along. That’s why he headed for his car first.

The small bag wasn’t much, but under proper circumstances, it could save his life. He really should have taken it with him to the office, but it had spent years in the trunk of his car, gathering dust, out of sight and mind.

He didn’t waste time brushing the dust off.

Leaving the car, he jogged awkwardly toward the subway station, less than a block away.

And that is that. Total time elapsed is the full five minutes. By now I bet all of you have guessed “disaster movie” – but what kind? Anyone know? I assure you, it’s a specific one that could actually happen.

At any rate, see you next week with the next installment!

Tuesday’s Tale, 8/8/2017.


Alright, another Tuesday; that means another five minutes on the clock.

Away we go:

This far, the Earthquake was minor. He didn’t have to worry about the crust of the Earth simply sliding out from under him or falling. No, he wasn’t like those poor souls still trapped farther West, his killer would likely be the ash, and it would be here in moments.

For a crucial moment, he stopped. Why should he bother? Escape was impossible, why not meet death on his terms?

But something in him said no; that as old and tired as he was, he could not give up. He put his terror-fueled second wind to use.

He had forgotten a killer. He was halfway down the Easternmost stairs, racing the few who had stayed behind as he had and those just now beginning to realize the awful reality when the barest remnants of a shockwave that had traveled thousands of miles knocked them all from their feet.

He managed to grab the guardrail in time but others were not as lucky. The screams began immediately and only gained volume. There was no time to stop, he knew. To stop, even to offer kindness, was to die. The only hope lay seaward.

And there you go, total time is four minutes and fifty-two seconds. See you next week.

Tuesday’s Tale, 8/1/2017.


Alright, late night, got my coffee, my dog is asleep and I’m not. Time to get some writing in. Five minutes on the clock and away we go.

He was on his third straight pot of coffee and his secretary had long since gone home. He had told her before she left; she was efficient and pleasant to be around and deserved a fighting chance.

She had looked at him, then burst into tears and fled. He wished her well.

It was his second day with no sleep, and the phone numbers were beginning to blur. His cell had long since failed, it;s battery drained. The last call had been to his wife. The mother of his son also deserved a fighting chance, fairness be damned.

He was on the phone, reiterating to some small town local police chief in Texas he hadn’t caught the name of that, yes, the order to evacuate was legitimate and it was time to leave even if he had to lead his entire town across the border into Mexico when it happened.

He felt the shaking through his feet, and even if he hadn’t, the pictures falling from the walls would have given it away. His phone call abruptly cut off.

Can anyone guess yet? If so let me know. Total time spent, four minutes 58 seconds. See you next week!