“It had been many years since Dustfinger had set foot in Inkworld. Trapped he had been, in the human world, searching, searching, always searching for a way home and back to his family. Now he was here and he did a little skip and dance through the meadow. The autumn grass heavy with seed and the color of the wild flowers fading. Dustfinger hated winter, made it so difficult for him to work his fire magic in the cool temperatures of winter. But he was better now, stronger; no longer the weak-willed minor character he had been written. He was powerful, in a burst of elation, he conjured a spark into his hand and blew out his dragon breath. The flame flew from his hand in a single wave, shaped itself into the form of a dragon, and … wait… something was wrong, the dragon had run amok, devouring the dry autumn grass in huge flames.
Dustfinger debated the wisdom of a back flash to knockout the now raging brush fire, decided against it, and turned to run. Oh great, less than an hour back in the world he loved and he had already created a major disaster. They’d banish him for this. Maybe if he could get home to Meldiere and the children, he could convince them to come with him and they could start a new life together. Maybe back in the human world. He could make a good living there, fire breathers were much in demand at fairs and the like. But, he must get home to Meldiere first. The fire continued to chase him across the meadow, leaving charred soil in it’s wake.
There she was, Meldiere on the little hill outside their home. She stood tall, her hair blowing straight back as she conjured her spell. A line of clouds appeared and snow and rain began to fall on the grass fire. Dustfinger silently thanked the Writer for bringing Meldiere into his life. Meldiere, his wife, mother of his children, and White Witch. The fire extinguished, Dustfinger rushed to embrace his wife.”
“Well, not bad for a little fan fiction.” Sharie thought to herself. “Not great, but not bad certainly,” she smiled. Then “he” spoke.
“You know, it’s not all that good, lots of grammar mistakes I’m sure. You never were any good at English in school. What makes you think you have the talent to write anything? You can’t even write a greeting card, you talentless hack.”
“Shut up! SHUT UP!! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!!!! Sharie screamed into the empty workstation that was her office. “You’re nothing but a voice in my head and even you bully me. I’m done with you… GO AWAY!” She punctuated her last exclamation my throwing a pillow across the room with all her might. “Stupid inner critic,” she muttered as she turned back to her laptop. Now,
“Meldiere’s kiss was long and deep, as if to reassure herself that he was truly home……”
For The Haunted Wordsmith 3 Things Challenge:bully, fan fiction, pillow