A Dithering Coddiwomple
Solanj stood staring up at the statue of the gargoyle. How like life, this stone monster. Hideous and beautiful at the same time. Taking precious time and energy to sculpt. She felt that curious detachment that had been the focus of her existence since the day. The day when her world changed, the day when… enough of this! Solanj shook her head and face forward strode straight into the cathedral.
In the corner a young girl played a violin. So sweet and pure was her song that Solanj was certain it could make the angels weep in envy. She headed to the front of the chapel where an elderly priest was seated, watching the violinist and gently smiling. Continue reading “Multi-prompt Monday — Coddiwomple”
Solanj paid no heed to the “no entry” signs as she approached in her slinky black gown. She presented her piccolo case, along with a long shapely thigh showing through the gown’s walking slit, and the smiling guard passed her through. The orchestra was already preparing for tonight’s symphony. Solanj stood for a moment sizing up the hall, picking the spot where the sounds would resonate the least.
On the lighting platform, Solanj opened her piccolo case. She withdrew a slender silver tube which she fitted with a mouthpiece and loaded the tiny darts concealed in her bracelet. She was ready.
The orchestra began their prelude. Solanj started her breathing ritual before lifting the blowgun to her lips. Just for a moment she could remember other symphonies, better times. She shook her head and focused on her breathing, opening her eyes. “Time for you to die Mr. Ambassador.”
The dart sailed, the ambassador slumped forward.
Till next time ~Peace ~JPP
For the following prompts:
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Thanks to Yarnspinnerr for the photo
They dragged her into the throne room. Kyarina’s first conscious thought was that her helmet was missing. It was just a basic protective device but carried magic and personal enchantments. Without it her flamming hair fell across her shoulders unbound and she felt exposed. The guards released her and she struggled briefly to rise.
Kyarina stood tall and erect, a warrior in every sense of the word. Her elaborate armor dented, carrying huge rents from blows of sword, gauntlet, and arrow. With her helmet gone, the scar was once again visible. Continue reading “The Emperor and the Warrior”