Other stories for this prompt

The disco ball was turning, turning, spraying shimmering light across the hall. Anne's body lay beneath it in a sparkling pool of blood that was slowly soaking in to the carpet.

Her father remained at the top of the stairs, gun in hand.

"Damn," said Spencer, standing in the doorway. "You guys really know how to party!"

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The disco ball was turning. But only in my head. I began to dance around again, like always when it started to spin. I looked in vain for a way out but they just laughed. It was like Hell but only worse because not only was the disco ball only in my head, so were the songs.

I didn't dislike Donna Summer but you can only take so much disco. The Bee Gees were better. They had a vast catalog of the beat. But the Xanadu soundtrack was the killer.

The straps tightened and the camera narrowed it's focus on...

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The disco ball was turning. I couldn't believe it. The big night had finally arrived. The day I had been waiting for for four years: My senior prom. I had gotten the nerve to ask the homecoming queen, Jill, to the dance. I remmeber I was so nervous when I asked her. It was during 4th period English class. My teacher was asking us to do some stupid thematic connection activity, and I leaned over and said, "Hey, Jill, umm....would you...." She looked at me like I had 1,000 heads, and they were not handsome heads. I started to falter....

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The disco ball was turning and I was sweating profusely as I danced amidst the twitching light that captured each person's movements frame by frame. My arms flailed in the air, pointed straight up in the chilly night while my torso shook from side to side.

And we were all dancing like this, without a care beneath the stars shimmering against the pitch black sky where the moon was covered in a thin veil of condensed water and soon, we believed, we would all condense up like if we were to stop our apparent motion.

We'd all freeze because we...

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The disco ball was turning. That was the first indication that something was wrong. That disco ball hadn't moved since 1982, when his brother put it up in his parent's attic to make room for his Tattoo You poster. The disco ball had hung for 30 years from a four-by-four, good solid wood. ("That wood ain't going anywhere, his dad once told him. That's old country wood, original American oak. Before all this," and let a wave of his hand tell the rest.)

He was up there in the attic when the disco ball turned, revealing it's multi-faced mirrored squares,...

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The disco ball was turning, just as it had the very first time I had walked in, ten months and five days ago.
Back then, I had only been a visitor, an anomaly in the lives of those who were gathered around me this night. Somewhere along the way, I had become a recurring cast member: life went on without me, but no one objected when I made my impromptu appearances.
Tonight would be the last night I could stay before my whole world changed. Because of that, I kept my eyes open, nostalgia clouding my vision more than the...

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The disco ball was turning, shattering the darkness with screaming light, the dawn silence splintered by horns, a cannon firing a thick ball of needles. The huns are at the wall, threatening the structure with bass drum. We fire back with tight snare. We are on the move, churning into time, a polyester & corduroy hypno-wheel mesmerizing the gods of youth.

"There are no gods!" shouted Robbie Pinsker and deftly crossed his heavy skates, rolling backwards to the clarion call of the Village People.

Stephanie Friedman invited the whole class to her party at the roller rink. I arrived sheepishly....

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The disco ball turned on its dusty axis, shining pixels of glitter light across their worn faces and twinkling in their liquid eyes. Eyes that darted to the front door when someone walked through. This hotel bar was the opposite of pretension, the only tension coming from the anticipation of meeting someone to make the night less lonely.

He came in for a beer--procrastinating to book his hotel for a corporate conference plus budget cuts at work meant he had a room at a low budget hotel. All the eyes followed him as he took a spot at the bar....

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The disco ball was turning. We danced below it, it's light swirling in a million little dots of light. soft music guided us around. His tuxedo creased slightly where my hand rested on his shoulder. My dress had cost a fortune, and it was a little hard to move, but it was so worth it. him beaming down at me lit up the room. my heart skipped a beat as he squeezed my hand slightly as we careened gracefully around other couples. i had wondered why they bothered with a disco ball when strobe lights were the last word in...

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"Because the game is all that matters, Father."

"I like to think it is my company that matters, my child."

A fire could be seen blazing in her eyes. He knew not to call her that. He knew better.

"I am not your child."

"All of you are, Lucifer, but your pride always stopped you from seeing that."

"My pride? It was my pride?"

The old man shook his head in affirmation.

"Father, your pride is what caste us from this place. You wanted to make room for these beings. So they could do what? Slaughter each other? Care only...

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About the prompt

Originally displayed on:
July 25, 2011


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