In The Beginning, There Was Distraction

Phan clutched her halo, rubbing already-tarnished finish. And sighed. If only she hadn’t been so diverted this morning, with the clouds. Then there’d been flowers. Then path swirls -which led right to the end of the lengthy queue…

“Next!” the angel matriarch called.

Phan floated forward. At a scowl, she hastily replaced her halo and hoped it aligned itself. It didn’t.

“Late again, Phanuelle.”

*Gulp*

“There’s only one assignment left; a newer one.”

Phan peered beyond the matriarch at the mostly harmless-looking blue and green sphere to which she must go. Oh, well. Perhaps it would have flowers, too.

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Created for Carrot Ranch‘s writing prompt.

April 11, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story using the phrase “beggars can’t be choosers.” You can play with the words, alter them or interpret them without using the phrase. Give it any slant you want — show what it means or add to its  meaning. Go where the prompt leads!

Respond by April 16, 2019. Use the comment section below to share, read and be social. You may leave a link, pingback or story in the comments. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form.  Rules & Guidelines.

 

Photo Credit:
Image by PIRO4D from Pixabay

Glad Tidings of Nymble

Nymble didn’t stand so much as gently flit above the waving grass, the first of the season’s signs of change. Leaning back as much as her grass and sunlight mote companions; she drank the deep, fresh air.

“Spring,” she whispered. She breathed.

A smile tickled her dimples. It pushed at her mouth-corners. As she looked out and over the gathered folk and fae, the smile spread to every feature of her pointed face. She grinned and opened her arms to hold the warm sun from toe to wing tip.

Atop the eminent rise, she addressed the expectant crowd. “SPRING!”

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Announced for Carrot Ranch‘s writing prompt.

March 26, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that uses the word eminence. It’s a rich word full of different meanings. Explore how it sounds or how you might play with it. Go where the prompt leads!

Respond by April 2, 2019. Use the comment section below to share, read and be social. You may leave a link, pingback or story in the comments. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form.  Rules & Guidelines.

 

Photo Credit:
Image by jhx13 from Pixabay

Farmer Henry

Liza’s dad waited ‘nside the barn; toe tappin’, scowl deepenin’. Where was that girl? He’d sent ‘er ten minutes ago ‘n hadn’t seen hide nor hair since.

“Uhmmmooobreuhhh,” lowed Maybelle.

He patted the cow. “I know, girl. I know.”

Right as ‘e settled on fetchin’ ‘is daughter, a glimpse a somethin’ yeller showed in the winder. Shore ‘nough, ’twas Liza. She weren’t movin’ fast, which perplexed the farmer.

“Liza!” he holler’d. “Whatcha dallyin’ fer?”

Sniffin’ and silent, she showed ‘im what she’d bin sent after.

“Why,” her father ‘sclaimed, “There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza. A hole!”

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Fetched and carried for Carrot Ranch’s writing prompt.

March 21, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that features a bucket of water. What is the condition of the water and what is the bucket for? Drop deep into the well and draw from where the prompt leads!

Respond by March 26, 2019. Use the comment section below to share, read and be social. You may leave a link, pingback or story in the comments. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form.  Rules & Guidelines.

I’d Like to Mouse Wheel a Motion

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“Now, now, Mrs. Snigglewhiff; that’s hardly mouseylike. Would you please consider using the shavings over-

“MISTER Cheesebiter, if you wouldn’t mind-

“I say; what are you doing at that drink station? Refreshments are for after our-

“What is it, now, Whiskershins? …The Society for Capybara Welfare wishes to be heard? They’ll just have to submit their request in shavings like the rest of us!-

“My word! Will the ringtailed children kindly refrain from using the wheel till after our meeting has adjourned?-”

*SQUEAKHEM*

“I now call to order The Semi-Regular Meeting of Tame Rodentia. First item of business: queuing.”

 

Moused over for Carrot Ranch‘s writing prompt:

March 7, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a mouse. It can be real, imagined, electronic or whiskered. Go where the prompt leads!

Respond by March 12, 2019. Use the comment section below to share, read and be social. You may leave a link, pingback or story in the comments. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form.  Rules & Guidelines.

 

Photo Credit:
Eligo Design

Bio-Enrichment

“Whatcha got in your lunch, Bi890?”

“Nothin.'”

“C’mon. got plain ol’ Wondermeat again. You can’t have anything worse than that.”

…*Sigh*

“Hey, humanoids! What’s for lunch?!”

Greets, Bi880. I’ve got Wondermeat again.”

“Too mortal, Bi896! My parental unit sent me One Smart Cookie!”

No way!

“So future!”

know. Pretty spaced, yeah? …So, whatch you got, 890?”

“He won’t say.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’ wanna.”

“We won’ tell.”

“Sures. C’mon, ‘noid.”

*Sigh* “Homemade chicken noodle soup again.”

“What?! No way!”

“What is that stuff?”

*Sigh*

“It’s okay, 890.”

“Yeah, ‘noid. -not all parental units know what’s good for ya.”

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A futuristic conversation about enrichment bio-engineered for Carrot Ranch‘s prompt:

January 10, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes the idea of enrichment. Use many of its different manifestations or explore reasons why it matters to the character. Go where the prompt leads.

Respond by January 15, 2019. Use the comment section below to share, read and be social. You may leave a link, pingback or story in the comments. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form.  Rules & Guidelines.

 

Photo Credit:
Sara Dubler

When the Stakes Are High

It wasn’t till the hungry flames were nearly at her hem that Briar’s thoughts turned to self-reflection. Before that point she was, quite naturally, declaring innocence whilst returning insults.

Her efforts were of no use. The fire rose higher, the smoke stung her lungs and eyes, the cackling jeers grew louder than the crackling logs. She could see her angry accusers through the wafting smoke lines.

“Witch! Witch! Witch!” they chanted.

These simple townsfolk had no brains. If she were a witch, wouldn’t she be gone? She sighed; coughed. She never should have left her staff under the bed.

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Bound and burned for Carrot Ranch‘s writing prompt.

Inspirational Plagiarism: a Dialogue

“I really want to write something.”

“So…”

“I know; I know. ‘So, write something.’ If only it were that easy.”

“It is. You just-”

“Just WRITE something. If it’s so easy, you do it.”

“I have.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

….

“What?”

“Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“Whatever it is that you wrote. Supposedly. I mean, you said that-”

“Oh, that. Yes, well, it’s …thing is…”

“Well?”

“Computer crash last week.”

“Computer crash.”

“Yes. Tragic. I’d just finished up the 53rd chapter, too.”

“Fifty-three chapters?! Now I know you’re making this up.”

“Hmph. You’re just jealous because you can’t think of something to write.”

Neither can you!

“Of course I can. Didn’t you just hear that I wrote fifty-three chapters?”

“Says you.

And J.K. Rowling’s agent. He said they wanted me to send off what I had.”

What?!”

“Unfortunately, that e-mail also was lost in the crash.”

“Obviously….So, what were the fifty-plus chapters about? Hmmm?”

“Oh! Erm.. ah.. it was a fantasy novel.”

“Go on.”

“Well, I can’t give everything away.”

“Sure, sure. Just tell me the synopsis you sent to Rowling’s agent, then.”

“I’m sure you’re not really interes-”

“I am.”

“Well.. it was a sort of ..hmm… a mashup of classic story lines. …You know: a bit of boy-coming-of-age meets a girl-who-discovers-she’s-magic story…”

…..

“It’s true! Julieng –yes– Julieng is nearing adulthood and discovers a dragon egg buried beneath a red wall that …erm… Eil-ent -um- Eilent’s uncle built near her family’s cauldron on a pig farm and they must join forces to stop the ..evil …overlord who came back to life because of a ring.”

“A ring.”

“Uh-huh. And the ring was lost behind a false wall ..erm.. in an upstairs room about a hundred years ago that ..uh… Jules’-

“Julieng?”

“Yes -Juleng.. Julieng’s stepbrother’s half-sister’s cousin made with magic powder that takes them between worlds. …I had a bit about a lion -or maybe a witch. -Hmmm, maybe it was a wardrobe-”

“A wardrobe?”

“Or, maybe it was a vanishing cabinet. I can’t exactly remember because that was back at the start of the book, see, and I was to the part where they …ah found Queen Guinevere with one of the knights..”

That’s it.”

“That’s what? Hey -where ya going?”

“To write.”

“I thought you didn’t have anything to write …”

“I didn’t, but a recent conversation inspired me.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. I just hope the publisher doesn’t think it’s too tame of an idea…”

“Well… you know what Abraham Lincoln said.”

“No, what?”

There is no such thing as a new idea. It is impossible. We simply take a lot of old ideas and put them into a sort of mental kaleidoscope…

“Smart man, that Lincoln.”

“Yup. Like me.”

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Fractured Fairy Tales That Lost

A long time ago, in a place right here where I’m typing on my laptop, the mystical land of Carrot Ranch advertised a contest to write Fractured Fairy Tales and I submitted some stories.

I didn’t win (bit of a sore issue; don’t ask), but did go a little overboard coming up with ideas. In short, I had a blast. The rules were stuff about word limit (99 words), something about fracturing a fairy tale, and another bit about including food.

Here were my entries:

Cinderella

Prince Charming sat, morose.

“Sir?!” His paige approached. “Your Highness requested we search for the girl -”

Lady, Stebbs.”

“…Lady… and to report if we found anything…”

The prince looked up. Hope peeked from a drawn, pale face. “Well?”

*Ahem* “We scoured the dance floor…”

“Yes?!”

“Erm. Nothing.”

The light in Charming’s eyes dimmed slightly.

“But,” Stebbs continued, “Then we searched the landing.”

“And?!”

“We-e-e-ell, actually, nothing as well.”

*Sigh*

“But,” the paige said, “Then we went to the staircase.”

Prince Charming steeled himself. “And?”

His paige proudly extracted an object from his waistcoat. “The lady left behind …an apple core!”

Author’s note: this seems to come out at 100 words, which may be due to my changing the last three words from ‘a hair’ to ‘an apple core’ to ensure that food was mentioned as part of following rules. Whoops.

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Snow White

“Erg damatha gloric zah!”

Bubbling light danced in the old hag’s rheumy, bloodshot eyes. Carefully, she lowered the basket to the cauldron’s surface.

“Erg damatha gloric zoon!”

The potion within foamed and rose; drenching basket, fruit, and tips of long, black fingernails. She lifted all free, frowning at what remained of her nails. Then, Aldetha saw the produce.

“Eeeergha!” she screeched, startling her talking crow out of sleep.

“Cerraw!” he shouted, flapping. “Whaaat?!”

“My spellll!” Aldetha lamented.

Her crow looked at the dripping basket.

She sniffed. “They’re ruined!”

“Well,” he considered, “Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to poison watermelon.”

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Perhaps I ought to have titled these. The site of losers entries has all of mine as ‘Untitled.’ Double whoops.

The Three Little Pigs

Once upon a time, there were three little pigs. Like all pigs, they spent their days lounging in mud and eating table scraps from the bushy-bearded farmer.

One day, the pigs’ mother told them they’d have to go out into the world. “And whatever you do,” she warned, “Watch out for the big, bad wolf.”

The pigs agreed, though felt sore at being put out and away from the mud. Accordingly, each decided to build himself his own pit.

Before any could acquire straw, sticks, or brick; however, Farmer Wolf slaughtered them all and sold the meat at market.

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Bacon sure is tasty.

Hansel and Gretel

Hansel and Gretel -both greedy tikes-
Set out to find more food.
They’d bread; yes, and water, but thought to try
To get cake and eat it, too.

“Look, Gretel,” said Hansel,
“I see a house, all sugar and gingerbread.”
His sister, a-rumbled, thought that sounded swell.
Said she, “Let’s go right ahead.”

But, alas for the pair
Who ne’er thought in sense,
A witch saw them circling
And licking her fence.

The morsels drew nearer; Witch smiled, she sighed;
She plotted and recipe’d.
But, Gretel, with roof piece and Hansel with pane, cried,
“Ugh! It’s all gluten free!”

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Gotta love a terrible poem, right?

Livelihood

No passersby knew why he sat, in the sun, staring at nothing. A few threw coins or insults. One threw lunch, which he ate, staring as he chewed.

Night fell to all but the wall before him; the whiteness of antique, virgin brick burned into his mind. He paused to start a silent soundtrack. Nodding along to *bom!-bom!-bom!* he opened equally invisible paints.

Pain sprayed black in a wild arc, then red for beating love, then blue for days without the red; then green, grey, purple, orange –

Till, breathless, he stood staring at his soul upon the wall; satisfied.

For me, with the prompt provided by Carrot Ranch Literary Community.

The Black Hole Beyond

Ethereal stardust touched her; tickling, licking, tempting her forward. A thousand thousand glittering steps pulsed the way.

She stepped. And stepped.

One hesitant footfall at a time led her past an eternal tunnel of cosmic shimmering, but also to the edge of inevitable, gaping nothing. Here, there was no stardust, no glitter, no shimmer. Not even a chill, poetic wind whipped against her hesitant spirit, paused on the edge of infinity.

With no eyes to close, no throat to swallow, no resolve to strengthen; she stepped over the edge…

Looking back only once, at the discarded Earth-body far behind.

 

Based on the prompt from The Carrot Ranch Literary Community.