New Friends by Steve B.

Steve B. posted this in the comments for a Caption This back in Feb, I thought it was a great story and warranted a post of its own. Steve, give me a buzz if you want to post any more.

 

*Okay I have never written on this site before, and writing in an old story is probably not a good way to grab attention but whatever. I really like this pic.*

"Have you noticed anything strange about Brody and Kyle lately?" one of the underclassmen football players mumbled to his fellow team mate. The smaller guy fixed his eyes down the hall and saw them. The two most popular guys in school, ever to grace the popular scene. Brody with his short cropped blonde hair and winning smile. And Kyle with his more reserved features and more subdued brown locks. Both were popular beyond belief being not only two of the most attractive guys ever, but the best football players ever to charge through Grover High. The little guy by the lockers looked back at his friend and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know dude. They seem fine to me..." But the older one remained sceptical as he watched them pass by. Brody looked over at Kyle with a great big smile; gave a knowing look and winked at him. Unnoticed by all in the loud hallways, except by Matt by the lockers and Kyle who gave a slight blush before returning the wink with a light smile of his own. The two of them quickly strode down the hall and disappeared behind the corner. Matt shook his head and raised his brow, "there's something weird going on here..."

Caption This (29th June)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write. Choice of three pictures this time.

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Did you enjoy the challenge a week or so ago?
Should I add challenges in future Caption This posts?

The Carnival of Dreams – Pt. 3

Hard Hearted

George was a miser, worse than Scrooge who, by comparison, would seem like Mother Teresa. Of course he didn’t see himself that way. To him, he was just a good business man doing his job. Nothing more, nothing less. At 56, he had never found love, except the love of money. He had no compassion in him, easily sending a person to jail for missing a small payment without a second thought. Cold and hard.

One night as George was travelling back to his meager lodgings after a satisfying day of foreclosures – he wouldn’t even spend any of his considerable wealth on himself to be comfortable – he came upon a brightly lit carnival. He hadn’t been to one since he was a boy so he decided he would stop and check it out. He had plenty of time. Nobody was waiting for him.

This one was very old fashioned - no fancy rides. Better yet, there was no fee to enter. George wandered among the people, checking out the many attractions. Here was a tent with a sign saying “DESIRE”, there a booth that sold love potions. Bah. Desire and love potions. Such nonsense. None attracted George’s attention until he came to a tent proclaiming “ART”.

Caption This (22nd June)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write. Choice of two pictures this time.

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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The Carnival of Dreams – Pt. 2

Loved

James lacked for nothing in his life except one thing: love. His mother had died when he was very young and his father was a hard working CEO with little time left for James. His eighteen years had been a series of boarding schools and nannies. A decent looking guy, he was lean but in shape, had brown, stylishly long hair with pale emerald green eyes, and stood around 5’8.

One day while travelling out in the country, he came upon a carnival unlike any he had ever seen before. There were no tall Ferris wheels or roller coasters. Delicate music from a carousel wafted through the air, luring him in. As he wandered through the maze of tents and booths, he happened upon one selling love potions – and, in true carny fashion, it had Cupid on its sign.

“Ah, my young sir, how can I help you today?” asked the odd looking man who appeared behind the counter, startling James.

“Just browsing.” he answered.

“I can tell you are looking for something very special. If you could have your fondest wish, what would it be?”

What would be my fondest wish? That is easy – to be loved.

The man cocked his head a bit, as if listening to some inner voice. There was a gleam in his eye as he said “Come with me. Let me show you what I have. I can help fulfill your dreams.”

He beckoned to a room behind a curtain. James felt a strong compulsion to enter come over him. Before he knew what he was doing, he was inside, looking at row upon row of bottles containing many different colored potions: bright green, vibrant blue and some that seemed darker than night among them.

The man went to one of the shelves, looking through the bottles to find exactly the right one. When he came back to James he held a bottle filled with a blood red potion. “Drink this and your dreams will be realized.”

Caption This (15th June)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write. Choice of two pictures and a video this time.

 

Plus a challenge for the more adventurous

OK, here’s something a little different for the budding writers that fancy stretching their creativity. Write a short piece (couple of paragraphs whatever you like) to describe the experience of a body swap, but when you wake up it’s in the body of someone that’s blind. The body can be muscular, slim, with someone or alone (you don’t have to use the pictures). The trick will be the initial confusion that you can’t see, but then the discovery of your new body through touch, smell or maybe taste.

Interested? Try it out-that includes the authors as well.

 

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Welcome to a new author

People, just a quick note to say welcome to Bill Rowan, who you might know as BR.

You've already seen some of his posts, and I think you've enjoyed them. So put your hands together and say "Hi" in the comments :)

The Carnival of Dreams – Pt. 1

Story by Bill Rowan (BR.)

Welcome to my carnival, stranger. Here dreams and nightmares can become reality. Once you enter you may never be the same. Are you brave enough to step into my world?

Olde Days
Robert was a very average man in all respects. He was neither classically handsome nor profoundly wise, just average. At 45, he lived an average life with an average job making an average wage. Like most men stuck in mediocrity, he dreamed of a life better than the one he had. His fondest desire was to be a knight of Camelot and have great adventures with Arthur.

One day Robert happened upon a travelling carnival. Sweet sounds from a carousel floated on the gentle breeze. He could not resist the lure.

As he walked the grounds, he saw tents and booths proclaiming a myriad of wonders – oracles, worldly treasures, love potions, and more. There were no fast roller coasters or rides to spin you into oblivion. All around him were people having a good time, enjoying all that life had to offer if only for a short while. Robert chanced upon a brightly colored tent with a single word hanging over its entrance “DESIRE”.  Intrigued, Robert entered.

Once inside, the noise and bustle he had come from were no longer heard. The tent was dimly lit by candles in standing tripod sconces and an intoxicating scent of sweet jasmine wafted on the air. Thin drapes of silk and lace fell from the upper nether regions, seemingly suspended in midair. Sitting in the center was a very old, very great round table, encircled by a multitude of high-backed chairs. Strange, Robert thought, how could something so large fit in what appeared from the outside to be a small space?

Robert walked closer. Odd markings adorned the surface, almost like letters or words in an old forgotten language. Feeling rather tired from roaming around, Robert chose a chair from the circle and sat.

Much to Robert’s surprise, the interior morphed into a great hall, made entirely of stone with large wooden doors at both ends and one side. The tripod sconces still stood along the walls but now colorful banners also hung nearby, suspended from poles. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the room. Robert looked down at the table. No longer did it appear old. In fact, it looked like it had been made only a short while ago. Robert could read the markings. They were names! In front of him where he sat, was “Galahad”. To his right was “Gwayne”, to his left “Lancelot”, and the last one he could see - “Arthur”.

Sphere of Change by BR.

Prologue

Slaves were working in a field, guarded by Roman soldiers. By chance (or possibly Fate), one of the slaves came upon a crystal sphere. The sphere was small, not much bigger than a marble, but glistened in the sun like a rare jewel.  When he picked the sphere up, it began to grow and the slave became entranced by the myriad of colors swirling within it. He found he could not move and time seemed to stand still for him. He was being drawn deeper and deeper into the sphere… and then he fell into unconsciousness.

He awoke, disoriented and confused; looking around, he could see the slaves working, although from a different perspective. He looked down upon himself, only to find he was wearing a soldier’s uniform. He gasped, realizing he had swapped bodies with one of the soldiers! No one - other than himself - seemed to be aware that anything had occurred. He somehow knew he had bonded with the sphere and was now its keeper. He looked at the crystal; it had returned to its original small size, and he realized it had travelled with him to his new identity. 

 

Caption This (8th June)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write. Choice of three this time.

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

 

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The Double Cross

"Look, just give me a couple more minutes will you, it's not easy going from one form to another," I growled at Dominic as my new persona swept over me. Mike was a nice guy, I'd known him for a couple of years but he had a strong dislike for Dominic, something that was becoming more and more evident as his personality locked into mine.

"I don't fucking care, we're on a tight schedule," Dominic growled, and then paused for a moment, "and what the fuck am I meant to call you now? Friend?"

I glared at Dominic. "You can call me Mike, but I'm not your friend!" Glancing into the back of the car I felt a lump come to my throat as I looked at what was left of the real Mike; a curled up grey husk which only loosely fitted the description of being human.

"What's the matter? You having second thoughts now?" Dominic sneered.

I glanced up at him through narrowed eyes. "I always regret it afterwards, but this is different." I looked down as patterns of ink bloomed across my new bicep, and flinched as pins and needles shot up my leg as more ink surfaced. "Mike's been a good friend, maybe not to you but we've been real tight."

"So you're feeling bad about killing your best friend?"

"Fuck you Dominic, fuck you!" I retorted.

The Spark

I looked at Wade and rolled my eyes. “I guess, but inside you're still a pussy cat,” I laughed as I slapped his heavy pecs walking to the kitchen.

Wade frowned and trotted after me. “But, I think I kinda look mean,” he whined puffing out his chest. “Don’t you think I look mean?”



"Ok, scare me," I replied. Wade sneered and growled at me. I stifled a laugh as I got myself a beer from his fridge; turning again I looked the giant up and down. “Wade, I’ve seen meaner looking things at the petting zoo,” I chuckled throwing him a beer.

He trudged back to the lounge and dropped onto the couch. "Aww, I just want a little respect. I'm bigger that all the guys I know, but they still walk over me and treat me like I'm nothing," he sighed.

I walked over and sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulder. "Wade, you're a big guy. Biggest guy I know, but you just don't come across as intimidating or threatening, you know?"

He looked up at me from under lowered eyebrows. "I guess, sucks being the nice guy all the time," he replied.

"Wade, you just need to man up a bit. When people first meet you they probably are intimidated by you--I was, but then you open your mouth and give the game away," I explained.

"I just don't have the words," he sighed.

"It's nice to be the good guy, but people will take advantage of you all the time. You'll end up doing things for people because you'll be scared not to, or don't want to upset them."

He nodded solemnly. "Want people to just not be mean to me," he replied.

"You're a worthless piece of meat, pumped full of god knows what--" "But..." "Don't fucking interrupt me you brainless sack of shit." I pulled in close to his face. "You repulse me, you're a whining excuse for a friend," I growled at him.

Wade's eyes popped. "Don't talk like that you're scaring me," he stammered.

My expression softened into a smile. "Sorry Wade, but I just wanted to show you that anyone could do it, even a guy half your size like me. I'm not saying you should be aggressive or anything but just be firm," I explained.

He looked at me with a worried look. "I guess, I don't think I would want to be like that--that was awful," he mumbled.

"You just have to be more confident, you're a nice guy. Has anyone been giving you problems?" I asked cautiously.

I watched him carefully as he rubbed his eye. He was like a big kid sometimes; vulnerable and scared. "It's Colin," he whispered, "he's been treating me bad, embarrassing me in front of my friends." He sagged a little looking defeated, I felt sorry for Wade and wanted to help.

There was a way I could help Wade; I had a trick, a gift--but it was something I'd never told any of my friends about. I discovered I could put a little part of myself in other people, once inside them I became something like a voice to them or I could take control completely.

I tapped his chest. "You know Wade--I can give you something that will help your confidence," I told him with a smile.

"Really? Like a lucky rabbit's foot or something?" he asked.

"No, something more magical than that," I replied. "You trust me right?"

"Yeah, of course I do."

I pinched my thumb and finger together and slowly pulled them apart; a ball of light crackled between the tips of my digits. "You see this Wade," I nodded at the light, "this is part of me, and I want to give it to you. It'll make you stronger, not your muscles but help you out in other ways." I rested a hand on his shoulder balancing the ball of light on my finger tip, slowly I touched it to his forehead and watched as it disappeared below his skin.

My stomach knotted and twisted as my perspective stretched giving me vertigo; like double vision I was able to see Wade and myself but through my friends eyes.

"This feels weird," Wade mumbled getting to his feet as the part of me I put inside his head touched his mind.

*Can you hear me Wade?* I said inside his head, he drew a sharp breath. "Uh-huh," he replied cautiously to the silent voice.

*I don't want you to be scared, but I'm going to take over for a while is that OK?* "I guess," he replied a slight stammer in his voice. I eased myself in taking control of Wade's body, instantly his stance changed taking on a more confident air. I walked to the mirror and tipped my head giving my new reflection a nod.

*Wow! I really look different, like I'm strutting.* It was my turn to hear Wade's silent voice in my borrowed head. "It doesn't take much," I explained, "maybe just a look, see the way I'm standing?" I replied in Wade's own voice.

My perspective twisted again as I disconnected from Wade leaving that piece of me inside, and I found myself looking at Wade from the couch again. "You're looking a lot more confident now," I smiled. He turned and looked at me for a moment; his eyes narrowed and I spotted a glint in his eye, and then it was gone.

He turned and flexed a bicep. "Fuck yeah, just what I needed," Wade replied with a sneer.

"Wade? You OK?"

The uncharacteristic sneer faded to something more familiar. "Yeah, of course," he replied.

I told him I'd see him later at the bar in town, he nodded and showed me to the door. I was a little surprised when he slammed it behind me; he'd usually wave goodbye as I drove away.

---

It was a little after seven when I got to the bar; Wade had changed into a t-shirt and hoody, and gave me a half hearted smile when he saw me. I nodded at Tony and Colin who where sitting opposite.



I took the seat next to Wade, and asked if anyone wanted a drink. "No, it's my round," Colin replied. He threw some notes across the table at Wade. "Go get us some beers monkey boy," Colin laughed.

"Colin you asshole, show some respect will you," I growled.

"Don't worry, I know he's only teasing. Isn't that right Colin," Wade said through gritted teeth.

Colin looked between the two of us. "Yeah, just playing with ya."

"Give me a hand will you buddy," Wade said, his eyes locked on Colin. He glanced at me, and then followed Wade to the bar.

I was talking to Tony for a while, and looked over my shoulder to see why they hadn't returned. Through the window I could see Wade's shadow lit from the light outside. I went to see what the problem was and was shocked to see Wade bearing down on Colin, spitting fury into his face. Colin looked over at me, his face was a white as a sheet. I tugged at Wade's shoulder, he was strong, and I had to use both hands to pull him away. "What the fuck is going on?" I demanded.

"This little fucker, was giving me shit," Wade retorted jabbing at Colin's chest almost knocking him over.

I pulled Colin out of harms way and told him to leave. "What the fuck is going on Wade? This isn't like you at all, you hate bullies."

Wade's eyes narrowed again. "Wade's not calling the shots anymore, I AM! He's weak, it didn't take long to put him in his place," he tapped his forehead. "There are going to be some big changes in his--fuck, my life now. I've got him tied in knots," his face returns to Wade's normal placid expression, "and I can fake him whenever I want," he says in a soft voice, sagging a little.

I took a gulp realising that something had gone wrong when I'd put that little part of me inside Wade. "Let me fix this Wade," I pinched my fingers and they started to glow as I reached for Wade's forehead.

Wade lashed out pushing me away. "Get the fuck away, you're not taking this away from me. You'd better keep away, because I swear I'll not only hurt you but I'll hurt your friend Wade as well."

"You're bluffing," I growled.

He grinned. "Try me," he sneered shouldering me hard before leaving.

I staggered and slumped against the wall. How the fuck did this happen? How could I rescue my friend? A shiver ran down my spine; Wade wasn't the first, what about the other people I'd put a little part of myself in—maybe they’re faking it as well? Had I been putting scraps of the bad parts of me in other people