Recycling Babies (response to Image Writing Prompt #212)

I enjoyed this response to Image Writing Prompt #212 it took a very interesting turn.

Let Me Tell You the Story of...

An old Chevor Model android, Verily43, hobbled with a cane through the factory.  It opened its olfactory nozzles and drew in an air sample, analyzing it with an internal mass spectrometer.  “It smells amazing in here already.”

“First batch is nearly done.  You’re noticing the burning and release of volatile organic compounds that remind us all of the ‘new android smell.'” The human, a bit of a grin on her face, pointed to the assembly line and one of the new androids coming off.  “This facility is unlike any other assembly center – and you can be an important part, Verily43.”

Verily43 moved its hip actuators, noticing the inefficiencies and signs of wear in the bearings.  Its hands were stiff.  Worse, no parts currently available would match its flagging pieces, and factory support had ended for the Chevor Models.  The joints would continue to degrade until they were unusable or…

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A Bother of Wings (Response to Image Writing Prompt #146)

I love this story it is so adorable. I love the focalisation on the dogs so you get the feeling it is from their perspective.

The Curse (Response to Image Writing Prompt #71)

I really loved this short story. It’s centred around the villain essentially and the way they think what they are doing is good.

via The Curse

Dancing Nymphs (Response to Image Writing Prompt #50)

via Dancing Nymphs

A mystical story in response to Image Writing Prompt #50.

Shapeshifter (Story Fragment)

‘He’s right behind me isn’t he,’ I asked.

‘Actually he’s right in front of you,’ she said.

‘What were?’ I asked looking around and checking behind me just in case.

‘He’s the cat,’ she said.

The cat who had been stalking up and down the coffee table, arched its back and hissed at her.

‘Sorry Dad,’ she said, ‘but he would have found out eventually.’

‘Don’t tell me he’s a shape shifter,’ I groaned.

She nodded.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said to the cat, ‘I shouldn’t have talked about you behind your back but you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.’

The cat yowled at me and stalked out of the room. A minute later a tall ginger haired man stalked into the room.

‘You should be more careful with your words young man,’ he said, ‘especially if you want to keep seeing my daughter.

The Freezing Lake (Response to Writing Prompt #350)

I love the ambiguity of the monster although it seems less a monster and more a wise being.

Bedoor Bluemoon

Source: Writing Prompt #350

She floated above the freezing lake waiting for the monster to reveal itself.  The cold air fluttered around her like pigeons.  She sighed, breathing warmth into her cold hands.  A little ripple barely noticed was all that she needed to smile.  He’s come, she thought to herself.

She turned to her right just as the monster’s head gently surfaced.  His blue skin was sleek with water dripping down, his green eyes glittering with the reflection of the mountains around.  Sarah, is it time?  It said in husky voice.

• yes, my dear.  It is finally time
• And are you certain that you’ve made the right decision?  Is this the right way forward?
• Yes, I am certain.  I have thought of this long and hard.  I cannot bear to think what could happen lest I stay.

No answer, the sound of silence was calming.  She looked at the…

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“Burning The Evidence” (Image Writing Prompt #27 — Dragonition) (Response)

This is such a great response, a very amusing read.

Scott Blackstone

“We should burn the evidence” Eretemis offered, hanging the offending object over the fire to emphasize his point.  Perfectly serious, he tried to seek out an answer in Valen’s face, the question in his eyes rather than his words.

“The evidence?” Valen snorted, rolling his eyes and swiftly freeing the whiskey bottle from Eerie’s grasp. “You can burn as many bottle as you want, and the evidence will still be inescapable.”  Though his slur wasn’t nearly a match for his friend’s, Valen’s voice carried all the signs of a man well into his cups. He blamed 18+ years of being sober for that.

“I’ll have you know, I’m not at all drunk.” Eerie’s attempt at enunciation came across as a drunk father trying to teach his son to read, only cementing Valen’s opinion. He didn’t seem to realize this, however, and tipped a new bottle back to his lips, frowning…

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Star Wars (response to Writing Challenge #22)

They did a great job incorporating all the different genres into one short and lovely poem Star Wars.

Bird Rider (Story Fragment)

The clouds hung grey and heavy over the hill dotted haphazardly with houses. Their size varied from tiny units to massive eight bedroom, two story giants. Trees mottled the remaining space forming green organic blobs among the red square rooves. A bird sat on a TV antenna occasionally letting out a chirp calling to the other birds. Then it took off with a clatter of feathered wings. Sief held on tight to its neck feathers. If she fell her own wings were probably still not strong enough to save her from this height, even if it was only one story. The bird finally landed. Sief quickly slid to the ground. The bird ruffled its feathers and took off again. She looked up through the broccoli leaves to watch it fly away.

Saving The City

I really enjoyed reading this, it’s such an awesome story in response to one of my writing prompts by Carol J Forrester go check out her blog.

Favourite name generating site

I thought I’d share my favourite name generating site. Fantasy name generatore is super helpful when I can’t decide on a name. I means I don’t sit there thinking what should I name my charcter and can just get right into writing about them. It’s not for everyone but I find it super useful. The URL is http://fantasynamegenerators.com/. If you struggle to come up with names you should definitly check it out.

Waking Up With Wings (Short Story)

My alarm went off. I sent a hand out from the warm tangle of my sheets, across my desk to silence it. Then pulled it back in. Something felt wrong. There was extra weight on my back and my shoulders felt like they were being twisted. There was something tickling my skin under my t-shirt.

I groaned and sat up turning on my lamp. I reached around and scratched my back. That’s when I realised there were feathers and wings folded neatly under my t-shirt. My first thought was this is a cool dream. I got up and turned on the light.

I pulled the t-shirt over my head. Then I spread my wings. Controlling them was just as instinctive as moving my arms. I opened my cupboard door and my reflection stared back at me, framed by wings the same brown as my hair.

Cutting holes in the back of another t-shirt I pulled it on and managed to get the wings through without too much difficulty. The house was silent no one else was up yet, it was Saturday morning. I’d forgotten to turn my alarm off for the weekend. I slipped into the back yard.

I flapped my wings experimentally. Nothing happened, I tried again, harder. My toes left the ground. I took a run up and launched myself into the air. I was flying. I laughed this couldn’t be a dream it was too real. The cold air against my skin. The feeling of my beating wings.

I was getting higher with every stroke. I looked down the view was amazing. I had no intention of stopping but I was getting tired. Then an air current took me and I glided effortlessly. I floated, regaining my breath, only having to flap occasionally.

I looked down again, I had no idea where I was anymore. The wind was picking up. Suddenly I just wanted to go home. I tried to drop down but a huge gust of wind took me and swept me up. It was getting hard to breath. Then I blacked out.

I came to again plummeting towards the ground. I flapped desperately but it was no use I crashed into the ground and passed out again.

I opened my eyes, and was confronted with white. My head and arm were sore. I tried to sit up but was pushed gently but firmly back. I could still feel my wings under me. I looked around. I was in a hospital surrounded by curious faces, I didn’t recognise anyone.

Then a police officer arrived and shoed everyone out except one doctor. Then she turned to me.

‘What’s your name,’ she asked.

‘Felicity Windson,’ I said.

I could see she was dying to ask about the wings but was too polite to say anything just yet. I wished I had the answers. I also wished I could just go home but right now that seemed like it wouldn’t be happening for a while.

This is a fictional short story. Here is the exegesis.