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Write a story containing the words “it’s the thought that counts.”

Posted in Dialogue on Apr 7, 2023

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✍️ 46 stories

Welcome to the Funhouse!

Submitted to Contest #193

“Ah! If it isn’t the daring and rather clumsy hero, Homerun!” A teenage girl mocked the hero below her on top of the rafters dangling her legs with a wide smirk. She has bright sharp purple eyes wearing an assortment of colored quilts tailored for jesters within the medieval era. She had afro rainbow hair and her face painted over with an absurd blinding white, roughly painted red cheeks, and overly comically black eyeliner. Their cackles echo through the halls of the funhouse just as if a pack of hyenas found something rather hilarious. She...

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Blobfish Cannot Speak

Submitted to Contest #193

Blobfish cannot speak. They blink and wink to communicate. We humans think of Blobfish as the ugliest creatures on the planet, having dubbed them such in an internet contest years ago. They’re not quite so ugly in their native habitat: bobbing like jello salad in the muck at the bottom of the ocean. They live under extreme pressure. At those depths, they’re nearly as dishy as your ordinary fish. Nonetheless, when they’re accidentally hauled up by fishermen to our atmospheric pressure, they become the gelatinous ooze we all recognized in...

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The wrong twin

Submitted to Contest #193

*TW: swearing, mentioned/implied; past abusive, toxic relationship/ ex boyfriend.*Caleb is minding his business, when he hears some faint yelling.One thing about Caleb? He is a sucker for drama and honestly for eavesdropping.Real-life fights are so much better than the reality tv shows his sister watches.Caleb's eavesdropping has resulted in him listening to some dramatic fights between his (step)mom and his slightly egocentric adoptive father, some spicy arguments between his sister and her friendsAnd conversations so ch...

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The transhumanist Dilemma

Submitted to Contest #193

It’s the thought that counts. My new robot friend does not emote, but he does things that are kind and considerate. When the box came from Japan, it was hard to open because it stood six feet high, two inches taller than me. I had to lay it on its side and carefully tear back the cardboard with the help of a knife. I was excited and eager to meet Robotto. As a transhumanist, I believed he was my chance at immortality. Artificial Intelligence had progressed to the point that I could transfer my brain circuitry or essence to a computerized rob...

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It's The Thought That Counts by Elouise D. Woodard

Submitted to Contest #193

Today wasn’t a special day, it was just another day in the life of a housewife. It wasn’t my birthday, holiday, or anniversary. I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, it was just one of those lazy days. I was sitting in my favorite chair by the front window in our living room reading one of my favorite books. As I looked up to stretch, I observed my husband walking through the front door. I identified a small colorful box in his right hand. As he commenced walking closer towards my direction with the biggest smile on his face he said soft...

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It’s the Thought That Counts

Submitted to Contest #193

Cory’s gut had been telling him something was up that day. It’s something he has been good at since he was a kid, being able to feel these things coming. He couldn’t really explain it, he just kind of knew. He had had the feeling since the moment he swung his feet out of bed that morning. The instant the soles of his feet touched the worn rug under the bed he knew it. He didn’t know what exactly, it wasn’t that sharply honed of a talent. He just knew it was something.  Marc was on the couch in the living room down the hall. They’d trie...

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American Ale House

Submitted to Contest #193

American Ale House Happy Hour “People tell me to buy a trailer.” “Of course, it’s the thought that counts, presuming there was one.” “Your thoughts, or a penny, whichever?” “Don’t listen. Worst real estate purchase of all time.” “I thought that was the Brooklyn Bridge.” “Turns out you can’t buy the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s an historical artifact.” “This trailer is pretty old.” “Same problem, historical artifact.” “I guess I’m a renter. Until newer models come on the market.” “Wouldn’t want to break any laws, high crimes, or mis...

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The Road Paved With Good Intentions

Submitted to Contest #193

Officer Jenkins had a look of disbelief on his face as he eyed the wreckage and all the blood.  “But my intentions were good,” Karen Culpepper said to him shortly after she caused the 15 car pile-up on Interstate 24.  Jenkins couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Maybe this woman was manic.  Maybe she wasn’t in control of what she was saying.He was so overwhelmed by the situation, he honestly didn’t know how to feel.  His intense sensations were all over the emotional spectrum, and he strugg...

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The Art of Feigning Gratitude

Submitted to Contest #193

"Happy Birthday!" Something in the way he sing-songed the greeting instantly gave me the feeling that Taylor had something up his sleeve. "Hey," I said, closing the door behind me, a little exhausted, a little excited - a weird combination, but a long day at the office throupled with a birthday dinner and that lilt in my fiancé's voice made for odd bedfellows of emotion. Taylor tucked his hair behind his ear as he leaned down to peck me on the cheek, and held out a hand to take my bag for me. "My, what chivalry!" I teased.  "Only ...

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It's The Thought That Counts

Submitted to Contest #193

Sarah picked at the remains of her cold oatmeal and slugged her lukewarm coffee, half-asleep, half-dazed at the sudden turn of events and still puzzled over the handwritten note from her late grandmother. “Tell me again exactly where you found it?” Her father asked.  “It was underneath the attic boards, back in the left corner.” “The attic above the third floor staircase?” “Yes, in the very back, underneath the window that looks toward Culebra Peak.” Culebra Peak, majestically seated halfway between Denver, Colorado, and Albuquer...

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Beds and Breakfast

Submitted to Contest #193

THIRD PERSON POV “Damn it!” Sam heard Amelia say after she heard the sound of glass breaking.  “Are you ok?” Amelia asked with a towel wrapped around her, and her hair wet.  “This fucking hand–.” Amelia groaned in frustration. Holding up her left hand as it shook. “I’m sorry.” Said Sam. Although she didn't have much to apologize for. But it is difficult to love someone, and something hurts them, and have no say in the matter. “I can’t even lift a fucking glass, how am I supposed to work again, how are we supposed t...

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The Man with a Hat

Submitted to Contest #193

Jack was walking down a neighborhood, smoking a cigarette on his own. Minding his business. When a man with a hat came running towards him out of nowhere, he was screaming and he looked terrified. Jack: What is going on? Are you okay? Man with a hat: Please help me. I just escaped from that house.  The man with a hat had no breath, he was tired from running but he still was able to point towards a beautiful two floor home. Jack: Calm down, and explain to me what just happened? The man with a hat takes a deep breath. He tries t...

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Mindset

Submitted to Contest #193

[Sensitive themes of illness and child hospitalization]The nurse told her, "It's the thought that counts," when she placed the basket on her nightstand. Nicole looked at the Easter basket in disgust. Everything was old-fashioned and earth-colored. The brown wicker looked like sticks. It was ugly and full of coloring books she was too old for and stickers she wasn't interested in.She looked across at her roommate Kayla's Easter basket. It was large, pastel, and beautiful with pinks, blues, and greens and overflowing with candy. Kayla always g...

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Bare Souls

Submitted to Contest #193

Candles of dubious provenance lit the small, wood-lined dining hall. They filled the air in the dark hall with scents that put the guests in mind of hot nights, dreams they had fought free of, abandoned churches and forbidden desires. The new lord’s inauguration was, while an event not to be missed - as befitted the occasion of such a high-standing demon wishing to stretch his (rather small and feathery) wings of dread power in the mortal world of Politics - one they uneasily wished that they could. (He had arrived one day in August, a ho...

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Brother: Nineteen Years, Zero Days

Submitted to Contest #193

Twelve years, zero days: that was to be the only thought running through my mind by the end of the day. I was in awe of how he had bottled up the sun—seven of them, in fact. Each owned a small podium, all of which jutted from a sea of shallow white spirals. Vanilla, my favourite. The optimistic beacons grasped at the endless blue above them, undoubtedly seeking comfort in their celestial mother. She heartened the grass that laughed and tickled my soles, and her seven children imitated by warming my chin, my nose, my forehead as I neared. I ...

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