This is how it works: you get 5 words and with these 5 words you have to write an entry. The words might or might not be related. You decide how to combine them, and how long your entry will be. You tag your entry with 5wordchallenge and whatever other tags you like. Finally, you put the words in bold.
This challenge: pickle, fireplace, audacious, street, surprise
Martin stood at the corner waiting for the light to change.
He thought of nothing in particular as he was bumped from behind, his sandwich tumbling to the ground. He looked back in disgust as he leaned down to pick it up when he heard the wet sliding of something crushed under foot. He turned his gaze towards the ground and saw a trail of green goo beneath the shoe of the man who had accidentally jostled him.
"My pickle," he said.
"Excuse me," the man replied.
"Dude, you destroyed my pickle."
"I what?"
"My pickle. My lunch. You killed it."
The man, Norman Rose, adjusted his glasses. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow. Martin noticed his fear, puffed out his chest, and got louder.
"What are you going to do about my lunch?"
"Your lunch," Norman repeated. He reached into his messenger bag. "I've got some nuts."
"Nuts?! How about I roast your nuts in my fireplace?"
Martin stepped towards Norman so that they were face to face. Norman, flustered and afraid, sneezed uncontrollably. He watched, as if in horrific slow motion, as spittle and snot covered the angry man's mug.
Martin jumped back with a start as if he had been shot. Wiping his face down with his hand, his blood boiled. He grabbed Norman by the collar and tossed him into the street.
Someone else on the corner said matter-of-factly, "Bus."
Norman turned towards the bus as it beat down on him. No sense of surprise crossed his features. He put both hands on his belt buckle and closed his eyes. He wasn't afraid.
Martin leaped out to grab him but it was too late. The bus went through Norman.
Except it didn't. Norman went through it. It must have only taken a few seconds but it felt like an eternity. He opened his eyes as he phased through the front of the giant vehicle. He could feel it slow, but not quickly enough to avoid him, as he slid down the aisle. He was barely solid and the bus was still on the move so most inside didn't see him. A little girl holding her mother's hand did, though, and he winked. She smiled and waved. He would've waved back but he didn't dare remove his hands from his belt.
And just like that, he was on the street again, now behind the bus instead of in front. It worked, he thought, the belt worked! He looked up, trying to think of what he would tell the crowd that had seen his amazing feat but no one was paying attention to him. They were at the front of the bus staring at the man who he had just fought with instead of at him who had controlled his molecules with the touch of a clothing accessory.
Martin wasn't nearly as audacious.
He was dead.