# Literary Maneuvers JUNE 2020: Write a Story Based on a Song of Your Choice



## SueC (Jun 1, 2020)

*Introducing*
*Literary Maneuvers Competition*
*for June 2020*







*"Write a Story Based on a *
*Song of Your Choice**"*


Word limit: 650
(Title not include in word count) 
*Begins Monday, June 1 *
*Closes Monday, June 15 2359 hrs GMT*
Critiques from judges due to SueC 
(please and thank you) by *Monday, June 29* 


** If you wish to reveal the Title of the song 
inspiring your story, you can do so just under 
the Title of your written work. This will not 
be included in the 650 word count.


Example:
"How I Spent My Summer Vacation"
 (Norwegian Wood)




Pick your own title, write about whatever you want, as long as it fits the prompt. 


If you win, you'll get a badge pinned to your profile, plus the chance to write for our yearly Grand Fiction Challenge which carries cash prizes. Pretty neat, eh?




The Awesome June Judges are:
*Harper J. Cole  *
*ArrowintheBowoftheLord*
*Phil Istine *
*River Rose*


Thank you all!


If you wish to know more about scoring, take a look at the NEW JUDGING GUIDE 
which also includes a template to use for your scoring. Please use this template for consistency.​



Additional


All entries that wish to retain their first rights should post in the LM WORKSHOP THREAD.


All anonymous entries should be sent to SueC by private message and please note in 
the PM if you want your entry posted in the workshop thread, not visible to the public


Click HERE for the Rules


There are a few ways to post your entry:


If you aren't too concerned about your first rights, then you can simply post your entry here in this thread.


You can opt to have your entry posted in the Workshop which is a 
special thread just for LM entries. You would put your story there 
if you wish to protect your first rights, in case you wish to 
have the story published one day. 


*Note: If you do post it in the workshop thread, you must post a link *
*to it here in this thread otherwise your story may not be counted.*​

You may post your story anonymously. To do so, send your story to the host (SueC) of the competition. If you wish to have us post it in the workshop thread then say so. Your name will be revealed upon the release of the score.


Everyone is welcome to participate, including judges. A judge's entry will receive a review by their fellow judges, but it will not receive a score, though some judges are happy to let you know their score for you privately. Please refrain from 'like'-ing or 'lol'-ing an entry until the scores are posted.


Judges: In the tradition of LM competitions of yore, if you could send the scores no later than three days after the closing date it will ensure a timely release of results. Much later than that and I will have to post with what I have. Again, please see the Judging Guidelines if you have questions. Following the suggested formatting will be much appreciated, too.


*Final Reminder:
This competition will close on:*
*Monday 15 June at 2359 hrs, GMT (not BST), on the dot. *
*Please note any time differences where you *
*are and be mindful of daylight savings time.

Have fun! *​


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## SueC (Jun 2, 2020)

Extreme Ways


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## CyberWar (Jun 14, 2020)

*A Girl from Hamburg [650 words; mature content]*

*A Girl from Hamburg
*(Giuseppe Verdi - Dies Irae)

The first thing Inge felt when she came back to her senses was sweltering heat. Everything around was pitch-black, and as her ears gradually stopped ringing, she could hear people screaming. There were warm bodies around her, some moving and some still. The air was full of choking steam and reeked of cooked human flesh.


  "Mama! Lotti!" she cried out, but received no response.


  "The cellar is flooding! We must get out!" someone shouted nearby, a  few flashlights flickering to life and revealed a flock of terrified people struggling to keep away from the rising water. It was boiling-hot, as the copious amounts of steam and the terrible shrieks of the wounded who couldn't get out of its way in time attested. Inge looked on in terror, calling for her mother and sister in vain as the scalding water crept closer and closer to her feet. Then, a metal door creaked open behind her, and the survivors rushed out. Some well-dressed man in a long coat snatched Inge up and carried her outside despite her protests that her mother and sister were still inside.


  No sooner had Inge and the man left the cellar when the girl realized they had jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Everything around was ablaze, ashes and embers raining down from the sky. The deafening cacophony of roaring fires, screaming people, explosions, bomber engines  and the spine-chilling howl from the thousands of falling bombs was truly hellish. Inge froze up and didn't even notice when she wet herself in terror.


  "Come quick, girl!" the man shook Inge back to her senses and shouted over the deafening noise, "We must find another shelter!"


  "But Mama and Lotti..."


  "If they aren't out here by now, then they didn't make it, and neither will you if you stay here!" the man barked, pulling Inge along despite her protests, "I'm sorry!"


  The two ran down the street along with the rest of the people who had escaped the flooding cellar. Every step revealed new horrors upon horrors - dismembered body parts, mangled limbless bodies, burning dead, and burning living who ran about shrieking terribly or flailed on the ground, trying to put out the flames in vain. Even the asphalt itself had become soft and sticky, making running difficult. Inge wanted to close her eyes , but couldn't.


  The wind in the street was picking up, carrying along dust, debris and embers. The heat behind was getting more intense, the fires starting to roar differently, with a strange, more menacing howl. As the flames were fanned by the incoming winds, such was the heat that even intact houses, trees and people nearby burst in flames seemingly for no apparent reason.


  "We must get to the Elbe! We will be safe there!" the man shouted to Inge. The swastika pin on his lapel suggested he was some minor party official, caught up in the same cellar as Inge's family when the air raid started. Inge knew it was about 10 minutes walk from where she had lived, but the debris in the streets and the ever-gaining wind made walking difficult.


  Then suddenly Inge felt as if a giant picked her up and hurled her against the nearby wall, the building next to them literally disintegrating from the might of a British bomb. The world itself seemed to shatter.


  When Inge regained consciousness, she found the man who had saved her lying a few paces away headless. Everything around was ablaze, and she could feel her hair singe and her skin blister in the sweltering heat. Then, in an instant, her clothes too burst in flames. The blast had made her deaf, so she couldn't hear herself scream as she thrashed on the melting pavement. As her skin melted, the pain started to go away, mercifully sparing the girl further agony before she too was consumed by the flames.


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## BigBagOfBasmatiRice (Jun 14, 2020)

[FONT=&Verdana]Away
​339 Words

The photo lay on Apphia’s dresser. Her parents always said they were going to frame it, but they never did. [/FONT]
“You wanna keep this one?” Fen said, holding it up.
“Nah. I’ll only bring things that I need,” Apphia replied.
Fen tossed it back on the dresser.
“You’re better at this than I would be. I’d be bringing a bunch of random stuff.”
“Then I guess I’m teaching you something,” Apphia smiled.
Fen smiled back, but she could sense the sadness behind it. She frowned.
“[/FONT]_Please_[FONT=&Verdana] don’t be sad. It makes me sad.”
Fen smoothed back his hair. “Sorry, sorry. I just...unpredictability. I don’t like it. I don’t know when I’ll see you again, or if you’ll be okay...I can’t predict it. Nobody can. Mom and Dad will get better...I—”
Apphia placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t talk about it, Fen. I’ve made my decision.” Apphia kept going, “It’s not like this is easy for me either...you’re the one thing I don’t wanna leave behind.” She looked at the window. “But distance won’t tear us apart,” she smiled defiantly, “it can try, but it won’t.”
The two siblings squeezed hands.
“That...feels familiar.” Apphia murmured.
Fen smiled another melancholy smile.
“It’s the first thing I did to you when you were born. Before...”
Apphia put her finger to her lips and grabbed her backpack. She pulled up her window, the night air blew in. Apphia looked back.
“I love you big brother.”
Fen smiled. This time it was proud.
“I love you, little sister.”
Apphia climbed out the window and shut it. She sidled down the roof and broke out into the night. She started at a steady pace.
No running.
Yet.
No resting.
Yet.
The air that had blown in through her window welcomed her. It beckoned her to fly. It sang a tune that floated up in the starry sky.

_I’m going away for a while, but I’ll be back, don't try and follow me…_

_‘Cause I’ll return as soon as possible..._


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## SueC (Jun 14, 2020)

The Tipping Point
*Anonymous
(A Satiric Homily)
(650 words)
(Inspired by the song, “Eve of Destruction” by Barry McGuire



*Once upon a time in a land very similar to ours, lived a Duke who ruled his lands with an unsteady hand. He was none too bright, had a surly disposition, lacked imagination, and was wickedly cruel and quite full of himself. He was beloved by few, hated by many, and feared by all. The Duke of Orange, Ronald Reginald Rumperdump, lived a luxurious lifestyle while the majority of his subjects lived on crumbs and biscuits. The Imperial guard and his shock troops kept his subjects in line while the Senate Emporium, were mewling and groveling lapdogs who kowtowed to his every whim. Life for the average peasant was pure misery, where hunger was a constant companion and death their salvation. But there was a flickering light at the end of the Rumperdumpian tunnel. A rebellion was brewing.

“We need to strike now, My Lord. The peasants are getting restless; they want to be free of the Orange Rascal’s yoke, no matter the cost.” Grand Duke Moland Mc Miden heard this from General Shumocker every day since the Dukes coup d’e tat. Patience was never his strong suit. “General we can’t rely that the peasants will rise up and take arms against the Duke when we command it. They well remember the coup he skillfully orchestrated against me. He has the most ruthless and powerful armies in all the eight kingdoms. Their fear of him may outweigh their hatred. We need to have a full chamber of bullets in the proverbial six-shooter before we strike. There’s no need to scowl, my friend, for we now posses a loaded revolver. By week’s end that Orange Bastards head will be on the pike. A new dawn is rising on the Eve of his Destruction.”

.................​
Chancellor Mucus McDonald prostrated himself before his master and said, “Oh great and illustrious one, it has recently come to my attention that some of the peasants are complaining about the food allocations we graciously give them. They claim it’s not enough to fill their bellies.” Upon hearing this Duke Rumperdump went into one of his classic rages. His eye bled blood red as globs of snot poured out his nose. Spittle and food particles spewed out his mouth. “How dare they beg for more food? The crumbs I give them are enough to sustain their putrid lives. I will send those ungrateful bastards what they desire, a choice piece of meat.” The Duke took an ax from one of his guards and started to hack away at the Chancellor. Rumperdump so enjoyed old McDonald’s screams as he chopped off his limbs and other body parts. “Send this to the rabble in the courtyard. Leave the head; I’ll want that in my trophy room. ” He turned to the palace fool and said, “Brimsley Sham, my fool of a fool, you are now the new Chancellor.”

The Dukes of the Seven Kingdoms gathered around the Grand Duke and re- pledged their fealty. The Duke of Orange was a cancer that needed to be eradicated. His evil influence had a long arm and needed to be put to rest. They only hoped that without the full support of the peasants, that the alliance alone was enough to stop the Orange Beast.
..............​
Rumperdump’s human meat distribution was the tipping point that led the peasants’ to a full uprising. They were sickened by his contempt and disregard for their welfare and human decency. They stormed the castle.

“Sire! Sire! The peasants are breaking through the gates. Our armies are being routed. The Grand Duke is entering the city. I hereby resign my commission as chancellor.”

They found Ronald Reginald Rumperdump, huddled in a corner whimpering like a baby. He stunk of urine and feces. “Please don’t hurt me. I’ll be a good boy I swear I will. Momma! Momma!”

Thus ends the idiotically stupefying tale of The Orange Idiot.


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## SueC (Jun 15, 2020)

It Lives


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## SueC (Jun 15, 2020)

Vegetables


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## SueC (Jun 15, 2020)

Fall in, Fall Away


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## SueC (Jun 15, 2020)

Hang On


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