Ash stood tall in the park, watching the children kicking the ball. Her branches still bare from her winter sleep, she stood open to the gentle breeze that bore the slightest chill. She shivered in the coolness, shaking off bits of dead bark and leaves as she plunged her roots farther into the soil, seeking warmth and nourishment. Her neighbors had already begun their own greening, even those infernal Pines looks smuggly greener. Her own greening would come with wild abandon. In the heat of summer the children would seek shelter in her shade. For them she would wait.
She ducked into the dingy narrow passage between the buildings. Although it was a simple thing to be doing, something strange was happening. Solanj smelled a trap. She was being followed and this was the perfect place for an ambush. Silently she waited, aware and ready to spring the trap.
Word count 50
Fifty Word Thursday brought to us this week by Tales from the Mind of Kristian ‘Although it was a simple thing to be doing, something strange was happening.’
Many thanks to John Holton for today’s prompt: Inch
My writing exercise for today:
“Write a 100 word story about a single moment, a conversation at breakfast, a personal decision, an interaction with a stranger. Any single moment focus on the detail of that moment.”
Inch by Inch
Step by step, inch by inch, she crept closer. The moment between one foot coming down soundlessly in front of the other. Her breath was quiet and still. Tiny sounds came to her from the alleyway. A mouse skittering to it’s hole, a moth mindlessly bumping against the globe of the street lamp, the sounds of people coming and going, living and breathing; out of sight on the other side of the darkness. Shadows moved across the ground, clouds passing over the moon high in the sky as her eyes adjusted to the deep gloom of the alley. She waited.
Fandango tagged me for this story challenge where we are supposed to:
write something in response to the photo you are given (above)
pick a picture of your own (see the end of the post), and
tag three other bloggers to do the same.
Xerena waved a hand and unbound the wards on her front door. Inserting the key in the mundane lock, she shouldered the door open. Dropping her knapsack on the floor, she looked around. The flat was tiny, old and cluttered, but it was home.Continue reading “Home Again a Tell the Story Challenge”→
There was something about Paris in the spring. The heady floral scent mixed with the sounds and smells of humans hurrying about their short, meaningless lives. Solanj sipped her coffee and watched the people walking by. The sky was blue and the air crisp.
He appeared from out of nowhere beside her table perching urgently on the seat next to her. In a breathy french accent he whispered “Cheri, I must paint you naked in the moonlight, you are my muse, my inspiration.”
He made a grab for her hand but Solanj’s reflexes were too well trained to permit such a casual touch. With lightning speed she clasped his wrist, fingers digging painfully into the tendons until she heard his gasp. “Run away little mouse,” she simply said “lest you come to harm.” Her voice held no whisper, no shout, no demand, just suggestion.
She released his hand and he quickly ran away. Solanj went back to her coffee.
The waters were still in the pond where Faelinn crouched. She scooped up a handful of water and splashed it on her face. Watching the ripples as they radiated out, only to vanish in the depths. As the water stilled once again, Faelinn stared at her reflection. The black hair streaked with sullen red lay lank and lifeless against her shoulders. Her face was dirty and she felt the grit and grime of the last days heavy upon her fair skin. The water looked cold and blissfully clean.Continue reading “Fire Fairy”→