December 2015 75-word Writing Challenge -- VICTORY TO HAREBRAIN!

[HazelRah]

A Time For Joy


Coal dust settled on the infant’s still face, falling from the steam mobile above the cot. Klaus stared at her with the purest love of a father for his daughter. His tired, red eyes glistening as he thought of all she had not yet accomplished.

Through the thin windows he heard the mayor ringing his bell.

“Christmas is a time for joy,” he cried.

Yes, Klaus thought, and Boxing Day is a time for funerals.

 

[Langadune]

STAND

“There are… quite many of them,” the young lieutenant said.
Captain Pritcher scoffed.
“We could try to repair the Tesla Cannon.”
Pritcher sipped the last of his tea. Earl Grey, touch of lemon.
“Or fall back to the airships?”
The Captain stood up.
“It’ll be a massacre,” the lieutenant said.
“Perhaps,” Pritchet drew his sabre.
The lieutenant hefted his copper clad hammer and steeled his soul against the advancing threat, “I really hate spiders.”

 

[Cathbad]

Sean turned the wheel in front of him and the engines roared. He pulled a rope hanging from above, giving three blasts. He pushed a lever forward and the locomotive started forward. Steam rose up from below, obscuring the outside view. Minutes later, the locomotive jumped the track and took to the air.


Sean looked at the passenger count and smiled. He’d made quota. He set the coordinates for Planet Hades and sat back, smiling.

 

[Bowler1]

The price of progress (and glue!)

Rudolph was the hardest, with his big soft eyes and shiny button nose.

He wasn’t the reindeer of old, his dancing and prancing behind him now. Arthritis had slowed him down and Santa knew how that felt.

Still… he had to go.

Santa cocked his pistol and popped one right between Rudolph’s eyes.

Steam power was the future and Santa’s work kept growing. He had coal to spare, but glue for toys always ran short.

 

[Saharren]

The Last Note

Deep in the North American wilderness they found it. A land that made steam on a scale that no boiler could match, with the right facilities.

After a decade of development, it seemed only fitting to build the world's largest steam orchestra there, to celebrate this natural wonder.

Who could know that the first symphony of the Yellowstone Steam Organ and Orchestra would be the last the world would hear?

 

[Lenny]

You've Got Mail

*Clump*,*crunch*, walked the postman.

*Clang*, shut the letterbox.

*Crink*,*crank*, turned the gears.

*Whoosh*, slid the envelope, down, down, down, the chute.

*Whumpf*, landed the envelope.

*Bubble*, boiled the steamer.

*Hiss*,*Crinkle*, opened the envelope.

*Screech*, extended the arm.

*Rustle*, exited the letter, unfolding.

*Click*, activated the lift.

*Creak*, strained the ropes.

*Clunk*, touched down the lift on the breakfast table.

*Gasp*, reached over and picked up the letter.

"Jury duty?!"

 

[Juliana]

Once Again, Light

I weave through my clockwork prison, avoiding automatons at their duties. Cleaning, cooking – although there is precious little left to eat. Mending my increasingly tattered finery: darned hose, threadbare velvet smoking jacket.

Outside glass walls, signs of revelry declare I’ve survived another year. I should enjoy the sight of candles on green boughs... Before it’s over, and once again I’m entombed in the dark to pay for my sins.

A Christmas bauble, among others.

 

[farntfar]

And those who do....



Throwing open the throttle, Graham saw the brass governor
nearly fly off its gimbles as his Steamy Davidson penny-
farthing shot across the cobbles towards the studio building.
The clockwork attendant caught his mount as he arrived
and Graham saw his scarlet caped nemeses charging
towards him from the glittering omnibus.
Carol sat demure as ever as he spoke that famous first line.
“One ‘et crossbeams has gone out askew on’t treadle.”

 

[Mr Orange]

A Saint by any other Name.

The sledge hissed, copper sack rivet-bursting full. And him; grey beard, sooty jacket possibly once red. His legs dented, faintly golden in the gas light, creaking as he moved to open the sack. Coal rained down. Skaartengard wouldn't freeze this winter.

"Thanks Saint Nickel-ass!"

Everything stopped. His eyes glared; red-hot embers. It began. A low rumble, like boulders tumbling down dry riverbeds.

Lightning crackled. He threw back his head.

"Ho, ho, ho!"

 

[Starbeast]

Santa Wears an Army Jacket​

Airships overhead, steam gun armed cops patrolling, I've got $60. This veteran's got nuttun better ta do, but to laugh with bar friends about this miserable world, caused by uncaring politicians. Fark'um.

#

A homeless woman with two kids......................"Here Lady. $60 bucks. Happy holidays."

"God bless you sir."

"Mommy, was that Santa?"

(sniff) I leave before I start crying. What the...? Is that a floating Angel? He smiled at me........Now I'm crying.

 

[chrispenycate]

Krakasnower wakes

Boxwood, crystal case inverted
Brass fittings frosted whitening hoar,
Leather cracking, blizzard unanticipated
To multifunneled luxury offshore.
Pacific tossed, December chill inserted
Tropical to polar temperatures derated.
Palm-shaded, monokinied oceanid freezing
With fever-heated yule embraces easing
The welkin shakes, flurries snow flakes
Ocean tsunamis, antipodean breaker breaks.
Within our crystal sky-dome fragments swirl
No divine diver surfaces this pearl
Transposing poles, as seasons' melody's unfurled,
Cold-weather specimens discover magic world.​

 

[TitaniumTi]

Mysterious Ways

“Please, Father.” Mama’s voice shook. “You can’t leave my child in the blizzard.”

Father Gallagher scowled. “That’s no child, but a soulless creation of pipes and wires.”

“I don’t mind.” Dorothea hugged Mama, careful of fragile flesh and bone.

Cold thickened the oil within her while she listened to carols. She fell onto the snow, barely sensing the wind playing through wires and pipes.

The congregation gasped as that ethereal music drowned Father Gallagher’s voice.

 

[Bob Senior]

PAINT & POWDER

Rhoda was smokin' hot.
Standing under the mistletoe, swaying slowly from side to side, a little weak in the knees.
I knew she'd be easy.

I took her upstairs, removed her dress and went to work.
Starting at her knees, I adjusted the ratcheting-lock-pawls.

In back I adjusted Rhoda's gyro, reset her heat modulator and oiled her poppet valve.
She stopped smoking.

I made $500 bucks, her date was happy.
Easy money.

 

[Phyrebrat]

We Two Kings

Two Orient drones belched across The Rustplains, lead by a polished aerial starcog.
Gaskar's Phrygian Capstan really itched. He scratched it.
'I warned you about those Thracian wingnuts,' Alumelchior whirred.
Oh, shut down, you silvery snob.
The starcog settled over a mine; 'Ta-da!' Inside something glittered in swaddling tarps.
'What is it?'
'Solid state,' the Virgin Server replied, wires spilling from every interface, 'A new generation.'
'Dammit. Get Boltasar; we'll need myrrh after all.'

 

[Culhwch]

With Apologies To Blitzen

The clockwork elves truly revolutionised Nick’s operation. They didn’t sleep, didn’t eat… and they didn’t complain. In two months he produced what had previously taken twelve.

He’d expected a backlash, of course. Tears. Anger.

He didn’t expect the firebomb. Or Blitzen’s severed head in his bed.

But it was the lawsuit that really stung. Wrongful dismissal. The payout bankrupted him.

Luckily, he found a job. A local start-up.

The Elves’ Christmas Workshop.

 

[TheDustyZebra]

Don’t You Cry


“I don’t understand what happened.”

.....“Really? … That is, I mean … I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You told me not to try it.”

.....“Well, I did have some reservations, yes….”

“You told me it was stupid!”

.....“And here we — never mind. I believe I said ‘ill-advised’.”

“This was to be my finest work.”

.....“Your toy airship is amazing, your marching tin soldiers magnificent.”

“But I wanted—”

.....“You must surely see — you cannot build a steam-powered snowman!”

 

[Jo Zebedee]

TAKEN FOR A RIDE


'What the hell is a Santa-Express?'

'Refurbished steam train. Danny'll meet you on it.'

I agreed. Only a git refuses his kid a Christmas treat. Danny didn't show, just the fat ho-ho-hoing *******.

I got off at the next halt. Gas-lights lined the platform. Horse-sh*t cut the coal-thick air.

I cursed. 'A trip back in time,' my bitch of an ex-wife had said. I'll have her when I get back. If I get back.

 

[Parson]

The Promised Land​

Charles coughed up blood. He had “The Cough.” Since steam power had become common smoke had become ubiquitous. There was no cure but without clean air he would die sooner. Driving his steamer he looked for a land of clean air. As he drove west he noticed the smoke was thinning and slowly disappearing.

Smiling he stopped in a small town and asked “Is this heaven?” The old man smiled back, “No, this is Iowa.”

 

[Hex]

Lacquer Blue


Music starts. I adjust the bustiere and Darlington's eyes glaze.

"Golly, Angeline…"

Cogs whir. Left leg… up. Right leg… round. With a (slight) grinding of gears, I straddle him.

"Bonnington, Clyde," he gasps. "Dismissed!"

The door slams behind his men, and my weaponised finger sharpens against his throat.

"Angeline, my sweet--"

This is for the slaves, the rightless, the unwound. For the voiceless like me.

"-- marry me."

Unanticipated.

I stab him anyway.

 

[Ursa major]

​

Grate Expectations
(An extract from Locomotives in Love)​

She accused me of being on the pull. I had whistled, but was simply letting off steam. (Okay, I was somewhat well oiled….)

Though there was plenty of pressure, it wasn’t a forced marriage. We’ve always worked at it. As she says, jokingly: “More joules, Governor; less jewels.”

“We’re having a prototype,” she said last year, to my great surprise. Fortunately, the birth went like clockwork: the midwife had all the right gear.

​