Sunday, October 22, 2017

Rock

Salt Water

The idea of going back was unbearable. Summer had been wonderful. Work was a distant place. She had forgotten about David, the pervert, John, the sloth, and Lewis, the hippie who didn't bathe enough. She stared at a few seashells, tokens of moments she would cherish forever. David said she would get bored by herself. He was so wrong. John advised her not to get a sunburn, and Lewis just smiled, stoned. Everyone thought she was too fragile. Perhaps she was, yes. But she decided she wasn't going back. And she held that small rock in her hand and smiled.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Hospital

Betelgeuse

He pressed the button and a nurse appeared.
“Hungry.”
She turned around and walked away. He waited. Nothing.
He pressed the button again. Another nurse appeared.
“I'm hungry.”
She turned around and left.
For the third time, he pressed the button, and a third nurse appeared.
“I'm really hungry.”
She tilted her head.
“Haven't you figured it out yet?”
He frowned.
“The code.”
“What code?”
“The one they gave you with your patient card.”
He flipped the card back and forth. In small letters, the code.
“Please?”
And food was provided, abundantly.

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Mask

Land of Glory

Lean forward and read the words, she thought, one after the other, one after the other, paragraph following paragraph, obediently covering the pages of a blank book. For the others, the pages were blank, and had nothing written on them. Yet, she saw words, one after the other, strings of paragraphs covering the desert of whiteness. She forgot the ban. And the world became warm.
Lean back, she thought, place the mask back on. No one will see how you can travel away. The book went back on the shelf of empty books, and no one knew she could read.

Saturday, October 7, 2017

NaNoWriMo Prep is in Motion



I have created the novel at the NaNoWriMo website for the 2017 November challenge. 
And hence we begin.



Tentative Title: The Darkest Corners


Excerpt (of the Intro, since we haven't started writing yet):

"A book is a book is a book, and the idea was to write a book. 

However, when I threw the knife in the air and it fell down the stairs (the knife is for dramatic effect, don't alarm yourselves), the idea changed to writing a crime novel. Then I thought, I have done that already. Perhaps I could write a thriller. Done. Some erotica? Done. Well, it's unfinished and I can't look at it right now, for some reason. I'm sick of it. And this went on and on for days until I was asked this question. Why don't you write a sort of auto-biography? 

My brain twirled like that knife (for dramatic effect again). The idea was interesting. I had never written anything like that. It would be easy to do and it wouldn't need much preparation, something vital at this point in time. 

Then I started boycotting the idea. Yes, what's an idea without its archnemesis? Who would be interested in reading such a crazy, boring, piece of garbage? No one, of course. 

Coming to this obvious conclusion was in no way disappointing. Quite the opposite. It gagged my inner-editor, wrapped him up in generous amounts of transparent wrapping film, and kicked his butt into a dark corner of the wardrobe where purses are lost forever, socks get hopelessly divorced and the sun never shines. 

No one would be interested in reading this crap meant that I could write whatever I wanted. I could hammer my fury, my despair, my gut, my soul and my tears on this keyboard and no one would even look at the end result. 

Perfection!"


Cover: None yet.
Word Goal: 50.000
Wordcount per day: Aiming for 1700 words
Panic Period, I mean writing time: 30 days


"I had the sense when I looked back over my life I would actually see a mess of decisions, a few of which I had thought about, some of which I had sort of stumbled on and many that I had no control over whatsoever."
Kazuo Ishiguro
Nobel Prize for Literature 2017


Sunday, October 1, 2017

Cook

Milk Wood

“Fresh,” said the farmer, his voice reaching an annoying pitch. “Check the pumpkins, miss. Fresh. Not that plastic-tasting garbage.”
The lady nodded and moved on. Everyone walked away quickly.
Only he knew how difficult it was to grow these darn things. The seeds became purple if he stored them for too long, the water made them blue, and painting each one with a natural food-coloring substance was hard work. Plus, after cooked, his pumpkins made people immortal, surely a bonus.
“Umm... Perhaps I should work on my marketing strategies,” he said, adjusting his voice to the perfect octave.
100 Word Stories

Sunday, September 24, 2017

Candlestick and Brush

Roche

Candlestick and Brush sat side by side. They looked quite innocent, I must admit. However, the mess in the kitchen was the proof that they had been busy all night. As I stood there, my index finger pointing at them, their big round eyes staring at me, I couldn't help wondering how they had managed to drag a whole cabbage from inside the fridge onto the counter. When I finished admonishing them, they simply stood up and walked away, as if nothing had happened, their tails swaying in the air. I'm sure they were thinking “the slave will clean it”.
(Prompt: PICK TWO: Funk, Double-jointed, Ulcer, Mast, Mahogany, Candlestick, Brush, Sherman)

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Alien

Tim's Dreams by Romy Nayar

They didn't like us. The strings hurt on the wrists. The redness would never go away. They played us like puppets. They manipulated us with a smile. Then, they forced us. “You'll see it,” they said. We didn't know what they meant. Then we saw it, the grand scheme of things, and we were just a tiny fleck of nothingness. They took the children. The candles burned till the end, but they didn't know. We had our own strings. The day we pulled them, they fell. And we took off to get our children back. Arrogance can make empires fall.
100 Word Stories

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Elspeth

Salt Water

Elspeth was a dreamer. The old iron-wrought bed hung from the sturdiest branches of the old tree in the garden. She would lie under the cover and snuggle against the pillows, reading. She read stories about imaginary places and wonderfully unusual people.
A plank also hung from a branch of the same tree. It had some books on it and also a lamp that didn't light anything, but that wasn't important because Elspeth was a dreamer.
The river flew by, its soft rippling waves flapping against the chores of her small beach.
And she read on.
Elspeth, the dreamer, hanging from a tree.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Ten Days to Go

BWC Village

Ten days to go till the end of today. I'm counting the days, one finger at a time. The neighbors don't know yet. Life will change. I sold the house and told no one. In a way, it's sad. I have been living here for over thirty years. I know everyone. I have seen them get married, have children. I have met the boyfriends and girlfriends of their kids. I have been to the christening of so many babies I lost count. And when they walk by, they wave and stay on, leaning against my fence, chatting a few minutes away before heading off back to their lives.
Now, I have ten days, only ten days to go till the end of today, my today that will never come back.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Tell me

Pixel Dreams

Tell me, is it morning yet? Tell me.
When will we look at the sun and smile?
When will we tread the narrow path of tomorrow and, at least, pretend we have a future?
When will we look at the seagulls and watch them circle the dark sky?
When will we believe? I wonder.
And my soul wanders away in my thoughts, my arms stretched, embracing the world, at least in my mind.
Anyone looking at me would only see me, sitting by the window and staring outside while the rain falls, the wind whispers secrets of the past, and the present is a cat sleeping on my lap.

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Gas

Wintersweet

The painting on the wall flickered, alive with the dancing flames of the gas fireplace. The man sat on a chair. His attention was on the geometric face. He had never intended it to come out like that but he thought it was beautiful. He cleaned his hands with a colorful cloth. She hated that. She hated the smell too. She hated when he sat in the living-room in his “rags”, as she called his painting overalls. When she saw the painting, she wanted to burn it. His nails had red underneath, and the painting was still on the wall.

Sunday, September 3, 2017

Deal

The Tower by Rebecca Bashly


The deal was that you'd never scream at me. The deal was that a smile would be a smile and not a sarcastic sneer thrown at my soul. The deal was that I would live today, dream of tomorrow, regret nothing of the past. And now, I live today, dreading tomorrow and desperately trying to forget what happened. The more they told me to walk away, the more I pretended not to listen. I covered my ears, shut my eyes, sheltered my soul, and one day, in darkness, I decided to leave. May my tombstone read “The deal was broken.”

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Lost Hope

Salt Water


Letter to Nobody

My eyes roam the land, the short golden grass dancing in the wind as the purple clouds fly away softly, caressing a bright blue sky. A lonely seagull makes its way out to sea while the waves lap gently on the shoreline. I stand against an ancient tree and try not to blink fearful this picture-perfect moment would fade away too soon. I thought the busy, fast-paced life would suddenly gain some sort of meaning. I thought, one day, things would change. They never did. And a picture-perfect lie ends now at a picture-perfect place.
Signed,
Hope

(Prompt: PICK TWO: Washing, Hope, Downward, Nix, Lie, Thrive, Joy, Rhapsody)

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Drive

Il Nido Cafe and Wine Bar "The Nest"

She couldn't walk but she had a very nice bike. It was parked outside the house and it was covered by flowers, violet, red, blue, and white. And she smiled. The bright colors made her smile. And the bicycle rusted away parked outside the house. Every now and then, she’d look at that bike. She’d close her eyes, and ride it, her legs completely paralyzed, but moving freely in her imagination. Whenever she got home and parked the bicycle outside the house, the flowers would sway back and take hold of her bike, becoming the sole guardians of her dreams.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Paprika

Octoberville


A comedian added paprika to everything, to the food, the stove, the counter, the walls, even to his co-presenter who tried very hard not to burst out laughing before the cameras.
The day they ran out of paprika, he started using ketchup. It was a commercial nightmare. Shocked viewers complained and advertisers pulled the plug.
When they went back to paprika, everything got back to normal, except for the cameraman whose ketchup company was hoping to make a lot of money.
Why does a cameraman own a ketchup company and work as a cameraman? Rich people are odd… well, sometimes.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Loot

Octoberville


The dark entrance to the tunnel was dimly lit. It was tempting to rush in, grab whatever he could and rush out. On the other hand, the dragon had parked himself in there. He took a deep breath and walked in.
The next greedy bastard found him bored out of his wits in a small cage. Apparently, the dragon had a terrible sense of humor and didn’t believe he was just visiting.
The real problem was that the cage got considerably cramped with the new arrival.
He didn't even want to think what would happen if anyone else showed up.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Loner Value

Somewhere

“The value of being a loner is difficult to explain, they tell me.”
The conversation went from bra sizes to philosophical states of mind in a heartbeat.
“In this job, we can’t be loners.”
The girls nodded. One sat in the back.
“Teamwork.”
More nodding.
“We have to stick together.”
Emphatic nodding.
Later that day, all dressed up for the graduation gala, each went about their lives, enjoying the moment.
They didn't notice she was outside, watching the fiery sunset. That would be the first of many fiery sunsets she’d go through alone.
The Squad made her an undercover agent.
(PICK TWO: Squad, Value, Callous, Iron, Bunk, Loner, Wispy, Divert)

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Monster

Octoberville


The slightly cross-eyed doll sat on the floor, her head rotating while a toy train inexplicably hovered nearby. No child was in sight and no one could tell who the doll belonged to.
They had paid a big chunk of money and everyone was fine with a bit of mystery.
When the monster jumped from behind a door, the guide screamed “Run!” and they all laughed nervously instead.
The guide later told the media that he did try to warn them.
The slightly cross-eyed doll still sits on the floor, her head rotating while a toy train inexplicably hovers nearby.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Camp NaNoWriMo July


The goal was to write 10k. That goal was reached well ahead of time. I knew life would take over eventually, as it ended up happening. Writing as much as possibe in the first two weeks proved to be a smart strategy. I did manage to add 3k+ to the 10k mark.


For the first time in several editions of Camp NaNoWriMo, I ended up being added to a group called Oakwood Palace that had nothing to do with my usual writing community. It was a quiet group, as these tend to be, with a handful of enthusiastic members.

I suppose the lesson learned here is, create your own cabin.

And onwards to November. I just might be a rebel this year.


Monday, July 17, 2017

Thank You

Home


Warning: A bit of a rant follows. If you're not into rants, feel free to skip it.



I don't hate anyone.
I was taught that hating someone is not a very Christian thing to do. I don't know much about all that Christian stuff, but I was a kid. I took their word for it.
However, some people made it to a special list.
It's called “I'll never forget”.
The co-worker who, at a staff meeting, said “it's not our fault you have that thing” while deciding I would teach the largest and most difficult groups of kids the following school year. That thing is a chronic illness called Myasthenia Gravis, something that limits my life every single minute of the day. I was well-considered by my peers and I worked the hardest. My reply was “I wish no one, of those you love the most, ever has this thing”. She started crying. To this day, I don't know why. If anyone should've cried, it should've been me. I was forced to retire that year.
The friend who called me selfish because I wouldn't pick up the phone while I was in hospital undergoing a treatment for that thing. I lost a friend.
The woman who came between me and someone I cared for very much. Looking back, she only did what she was allowed to do. And I didn't do any allowing... She is one of the most insecure people I have ever seen. Her profile updates are textbook examples of a terribly lonely heart. It's actually sad to see. She was an eye-opener.
Finally, someone who said the most unthinkable, harmful things about me. It was a terrible, painful blow.
And every now and then these people come to mind.
I haven't seen them in a long time.
I wonder if they are better off now.
I wonder how their lives have moved on.
I still don't hate them.
Because of what they did and said, better things happened.
I stopped working, and my health improved exponentially.
I left behind a friendship that was destroying me.
I got to see a few things I had been blind to.
I met someone who makes my life sunnier.
Years will go by, but I shall never forget what you did to me and, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for that.


Note: "Myasthenia gravis (..) is a chronic autoimmune neuromuscular disorder that is characterized by fluctuating weakness of the voluntary muscle groups." Source: Myasthenia Gravis Foundation of America


Sunday, July 16, 2017

Creepy

IV The Death by Ux Hax and Romy Nayar



She just waited there, wearing this huge hat while sitting between the oversized figures of Death and a Bride.
The display was a performance, they said. All she had to do was sit down and be quiet. And that’s what she did. Well, at least until Death started coughing.
She stood up and peeked in through the eyes of Death, wondering if anyone was inside.
“Are you ok?”
To which Death replied, amidst intense coughing, “Help me.”
Everyone fled. Too creepy, the critics wrote.
Apparently, Death had planned to rob the jewelry-clad celebrities attending the opening, and Death almost died.

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Ticket

Il Nido Cafe and Wine Bar "The Nest"

He flattened the map on the table.
“This is where we are going.” And he thumped his index finger on the right spot a few times for emphasis.
The gang seemed bored.
“Get in the cars and… try to look inconspicuous so the police don’t stop you, ok?!”
They all nodded.
When he arrived, he saw no one.
“Damn retards… They got caught. When you want something done, do it yourself.”
He walked inside the bank. Empty.
He got caught too.
“One-way ticket to hell,” one of them had the gall to tell him when they met again in jail.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Void

Bou's Land


A young rabbit looks at an old tree. The tree whispers.
The rabbit hops back and forth near the tree. The tree whispers.
The rabbit perks up two long ears. The tree whispers.
And the rabbit rests.
The tree sways in the wind, its leaves rustling softly.
The tree is wise and the rabbit ponders.
“Big ears don’t make you hear better, do they?” The tree whispers on.
The rabbit ponders, intrigued.
Maybe, just maybe, the rabbit will hop away with a tiny bit of the tree’s wisdom.
Maybe, just maybe, the tree will smile, watching the rabbit hop away.

Sunday, June 25, 2017

Camp NaNoWriMo July

Milk Wood

Packing time!

Camp NaNoWriMo is approaching quickly.

*Dust latest chapters written,
*Sharpen a few ideas,
*Grab the notebook where you wrote down all those neat expressions you plan on using,
*Brush up on your grammar and style.

We have 5 days left to decide what to write, how much to write and who to share it with (our cabin). 

My plan is to keep working on the Carnal Masquerade, a story I started at Camp in April, and my goal is to write 10,000 words.

Below you can find the synopsis and an excerpt.

Let the writing begin… in 5 days, in 5 days!! I still have a lot of packing to do till then. ;)


***


Carnal Masquerade


Synopsis:
Carnal lust, secret luxuries, and dangerous games of betrayal and revenge.


Excerpt:
Alexandra looked around the living-room, holding her mask between her fingers, while the middle-aged director blabbered on and on about his most recent escapades.
At the back, sinking in a corner sofa, trying to look upbeat but sulking like a pre-teen was a judge of the Supreme Court. At the buffet, the rising star of a new generation of politicians chatted with a half-naked woman, who was wearing what seemed to be a toga type of vest. In the veranda, with a stunning view over the whole city, was a very married Senator who vowed before an inquiry committee he had never had sex with a certain female assistant while in office, and he wasn't lying; he had sex with a male assistant. The room was packed with the country’s crème de la crème.
Present were also several multimillionaires of Arab countries, some of notable royal families, and a few obscure entrepreneurs from Eastern Europe.



A Couple's Life

Wanderstill Ode

When the young couple decided to take a tour of Toon Tooth Park to see the new volcano exhibit, they had no idea that this would change their lives significantly.
They walked side by side, sure of themselves, feeling positive that they’d have an entertaining day.
But a crazy man dressed in a foamy toucan outfit decided to act like an annoying clown and leaped about around them. He was so irritating that the young couple pulled out two shotguns each and put an end to the nonsense.
They are now living near a real volcano in Iceland, the Eyjafjallajökull.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

I Can't Believe That

Il Nido Cafe and Wine Bar "The Nest"

“What are cobalt, fluorine and iron together?”
Everyone looked puzzled by the question.
The café owner grinned.
“Think about it for a bit.”
She walked away, basking in how the tricky question had caught the cheeky young men off-guard. Each day, they would ask her questions she couldn't answer and laughed at her ignorance.
After a few minutes, she went back to their table.
“Well? I can’t believe you couldn't come up with one little answer.”
They shook their heads, baffled.
She poured a cup of coffee slowly.
They still looked puzzled.
“Coffee! Co, plus F, plus Fe. Hah! Gotcha!”

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Shell

Six

Marcy was infuriatingly opinionated and wasn't shy about it either.
When the office organized a field trip to an old castle, she blabbered on and on during the whole trip, driving everyone crazy.
The visit to the castle went well. The group went left while Marcy was checking the rooms to the right.
Then, someone found the lighthouse and there was an evil twinkle in their eyes.
“Marcy!”
She trotted unwarily into the abandoned lighthouse at the edge of the garden.
When they blocked the door, leaving her inside, they knew the days at the office would be far quieter.

Sunday, June 4, 2017

Cupcake

Octoberville

“My cupcake’s gone,” wailed the man when he was arrested. “My sweet wife, you’ll be on that wall, eternal and beautiful.”

The policemen scanned the room. The only thing they could see was an old portrait.

“Is this your wife?”
The man nodded.
A policeman got closer to the portrait.
“Are you sure this is a woman?”
The man was offended, cursed on and on till they removed him from the house.
“Where did you put her body?”
He shrugged.
And no one noticed the disdainful eyes on that painting, moving towards the door as they escorted the man out.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Mean Orc

Octoberville

Peter and Matt, two friends of the orc, were talking in the hospital corridor.
“No orc should have to go through this. The contusion was serious and now he’s talking funny. Everyone is laughing at him.” Peter rolled his eyes in disgust.
“Well, I suppose,” replied Matt, “but he was always slightly mean. Don’t you remember when…”
“I really don’t care. He should be respected. He’s fragile now.”
Suddenly, the orc died.
Peter waved. Matt got closer.
“I killed him,” whispered Peter.
“What on earth? Why??”
“I was talking to him and, man, did he have a mean bad breath.”
100 Word Stories
(PICK TWO: Track, Jill, Pinkerton, Blasphemous, Contusion, Orc, Zither, Neutral)

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Bank

Enoshima

The security camera of the bank turned slowly, especially because it would get stuck in a certain position looking away from the main room into a wall. When Deborah stood in front of the camera frantically waving for help, Thomas, the security guy, was watching TV. The SWAT team stormed the bank and saved Deborah. Thomas took a glance, still the wall. But it was time to go home. He put on his coat and walked downstairs, a broom in hand, to hit the slow camera back into motion. Then, Deborah grabbed the broom and hit Thomas with it, quickly!

Sunday, May 14, 2017

Thump

Wintersweet

Thump, thump, thump, the little rabbit rushes on, thumping his little leg on the ground.
And he huffs and he puffs.
Thump, thump, thump. Away, farther away, the little rabbit thumps southbound, immersed in thoughts profound.
And he huffs and he puffs, harder and harder and kicks and kicks around.
“Where’s the playground? Where’s the foxhound?”
And the thumping little thumps, they abound.
Sick of this monotony of sounds, the thumping rabbit goes underground, still huffing, still puffing.
But, oh… what happened, what happened? He tripped, knocked his head on the ground, poor little thumping rabbit, said the wicked ultrasound.

Sunday, May 7, 2017

What a Circus

Octoberville


Four men entered the Carnival grounds and shot a few rounds left and right before robbing the cash register in the souvenirs stand. Luckily, they didn't hurt anyone. Sophie, however, wasn't happy. She pulled on her father’s hand, wide-eyed. The 5-year old pointed at the carousel, a big hole on the thigh of one of the horses. The father nodded. When the robbers were arrested, they were sick to their stomachs. Sophie’s father, with the help of other by-standers, had tied them up to the colorful horses, heads down, and made them go a few rounds, left and right.

Sunday, April 30, 2017

Rogue Quiz

Milk Wood

Lilly studied a lot for the quiz about Nature. The prize was wonderful, a prize she had dreamed of for years. Well, she was only nine, but she had dreamed of it for quite a while.
There was only one problem. Tommy. Tommy was an expert cheater and he had won the last few prizes. She could barely look at his smirk.
While Mrs. Blake was not paying attention, Tommy sneaked a peek at his cheat notes and Lilly poked a finger in his ribs. He screeched in pain.
“Tommy!”
Yes, he was disqualified.
That was the best prize ever.
(Prompt: PICK TWO: Gorge, Hockey, Pallor, Quiz, Mellow, Rogue, Marsh, Caesar)

Sunday, April 23, 2017

What?

Forgotten City

“Go up the hill, then left. Take ten steps and turn right. Walk straight forward for about twenty steps and then walk back ten steps, turn left and then right. Go around the fountain in the middle of the square twice and then forward a few steps, say 10. You should see it.”
“What?”
“You should see it there.”
“Wait a second. Why do I have to take twenty steps forward and ten back?”
“For the same reason you have to go around the fountain twice.”
“And why is that?”
“If you haven’t figured that out yet, you never will.”

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Offend

Pure Dreams

The family gathering was supposed to be a fun get-together, but it never was. Everyone pretended it to be great. Long time no see, you look great, and heavier, you've grown to look just like your mother, big nose and all. The usual remarks and the standard sarcasm. However, they would all go back, each year, for the family gathering.

Until that day when grandfather, whom they thought was hopelessly senile, put everyone back in their places.
“Have I offended anyone?”
The silence marked the end of the family get-togethers, well, until grandfather’s funeral, that is, where everyone met again.

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Correct

UWA

“Didn't I tell you not to stand at the back of the room, staring at the ceiling? I find that extremely annoying, not to mention distracting. You cannot just stand there in silence. You haven’t said a word since the course started. Your attitude is totally unacceptable,” said the teacher, furious.
Without any sudden movements, the student pointed at the ceiling and everyone looked up.
A gigantic spider had built a massive spider web where huge flies were stuck and desperately fought for their lives.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, sir, but that’s quite the life lesson, wouldn't you say?”

Sunday, April 2, 2017

Tumble

Purple

Time tumbled the walls of the old theater. Abandoned for years, it became refuge for all sorts of animals, including good old Ronald. Ronald found a secret room underneath the stage and decided to hide there. This time he didn't run too far. The only problem was the kid. He always kept half the money Ronald gave him to get food, and he was a dangerous blabber. When the kid’s mom showed up and dragged Ronald by the ear to the local police station, the kid waved the little flag Ronald had placed on the wall of his secret room.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Camp NaNoWriMo April 2017



Here we go again. A few days till the beginning of Camp NaNoWriMo.
The story I plan to write this year is an erotic thriller. I have been preparing it for four months. For the first time since I started doing NaNoWriMo/Camp NaNoWriMo, I've plotted every chapter carefully, leaving little room to chance. I hope that by doing this, I'll be able to stick to revising/editing more easily after I'm done with the writing stage.
My goal for April is to write the first 10k words. This means 334 words a day. It should be easy to do.
The story is untitled for now, although I have a few options to choose from. However, none has proven to be "the one" yet.
The characters are lined up and ready to be totally mischievous, and the story has enough twists and turns to keep everyone on their toes.
So, drum roll! Let the writing begin!

Sunday, March 26, 2017

On Eggshells

SIC


New job, new goals, more money. That was great, right? Wrong.
Arthur’s supervisor, a wannabe vampire of sorts, decided to bite all the men in the company.
Arthur wasn't fond of bites, especially of co-workers, even if they were female. So, he maneuvered cautiously through the intricate maze of corridors.
The day the supervisor caught him by the wrist, he smashed her face in with the lunch tray.
He told the police he feared for his life. They believe him.
And Arthur joined another company. This time, the goal was to find a quiet work environment… with no biting.
(Prompt: PICK TWO: Join, Aspirin, Gravy, Mercantile, Polar, Clay, Eggshell, Juniper)

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Dry

UWA Tricia Farella


No land in sight, no end in sight, no peace.
The ship sailed through the rough storm, and most disappeared quickly. The dread and the roar fought furiously as wind and rain slapped against the sides of this frail vessel, a growing fever of force subduing even the strongest will.
And the thunderous darkness fed on the fears inside, witness to an ominous dance of threats and horror.
And all she wanted was a warm, dry place where she could be in peace, an inner peace of rainless boredom, that carefree nothingness that without warning lets the warm sun through.