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.
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.
Solanj looked up at the sunbeams breaking through the single cloud that cluttered an otherwise perfectly clear sky. “Thank goodness there’s no long range shot involved in this job,” she thought to herself. “Would have to make adjustments for the light refraction.”Continue reading “Sunbeams”→
Thanks to Dark Netizen for this week’s Wacky Weekend Challenge Prompt of “Gift”. Do come join the fun!
Solanj stood in the room waiting. The walls and floor were bare wood. A huge mirror adorned one wall, affording a reflected view of every angle. Solanj felt, more than saw, the Officers of the Board watching her every move. Another test. Continue reading “The Test”→
Do check it out and come join in the fun. This week’s prompt: Jelly
Solanj entered through the window, quietly as a ghost. She bumped the study door lock and cautiously stepped inside. And came to an abrupt halt. There at the desk sat Sir John Larbech, her target. Continue reading “Just Business”→
For Dark Netizen’s Wacky Weekend Challenge # 4 – Shower
Solanj stood in the shower watching the red water sluicing off her body, blood rinsing down the drain. Blood, her blood. Well, not all her’s but still, it was enough. Solanj reached for the anti-bacterial soap and winced at the hot pain in her shoulder.Continue reading “Wounded”→
Special thanks to Dark Netizen for hosting the Wacky Weekend challenge. My Friday Flash Fiction with multiple prompts for your consideration.
It was dark beyond the perimeters of the asylum. A full moon lit a portion of sky overhead but all of the street and parking lamps were unlit. A suspicious circumstance that somehow went unnoticed. Exactly what Solanj was counting on. Dressed in black from her low boots to the skullcap that covered her honey colored hair, she blended into the darkness like a shadow.Continue reading “Wacky Weekend Challenge # 3”→
Solanj sat in the waiting room, waiting. They called him “the archivist.” She called him “the Squirrel.” He was always finding odd, rare this and that and tucking them away for the proper occasion, or person. He had amassed a great fortune that way. Great enough to be able to afford Solanj’s services.Continue reading “The Squirrel – Multi prompt story”→
Solanj stared out the window. Night had fallen at last. The Eiffel tower lit up above the city. Some said it was beautiful. Others used more eloquent metaphors. Solanj didn’t know, didn’t care either. It was a signal post, that was all. A certain light in a certain room, flashing at a certain rhythm, was all she cared about. She needed an assignment. There had been too much leisure time lately. Too much time to think. She needed focus and action. Solanj fidgeted with the deadly spikes wound intricately into her hair. The signal flashed, time to work. Solanj smiled.