#vss365

Very Short Stories, Week 24

I missed the weekend prompts for my posts this week so there a bit short. Hope you don’t mind!

 

September 24th

#Fire licked across the stacked logs, surrounded by placed brick. It grew until it crackled and sparked and its flames reached for the starry night sky. She sat with her husband on folding lawn chairs. No words passed between them as the heat warmed them.

 

September 25th

She wrapped the #sinew around the willow twigs that formed a circle. It required a soft touch and yet force was needed too. She continued until the web was formed, decorated with beads the colour of rainbows. As she kissed her son’s head that night, she hung the dream catcher

 

September 26th

Night #consumes the day and she readies herself. Dressed in black, she lifts herself onto the window sill. Its tracks bite into her palms and she drops when it’s time. The two-storey fall is quick and she lands with a thud, rolling for cover. She draws in a deep breath.

 

September 27th

 

Stars twinkle in distant #universes, lighting skies above alien life. Through telescopes, gazes meet but remain unaware. Life continues its circling dance. She dreams of unknown planets and longs to walk on foreign soil. Her imagination is a playground of planets.

 

September 28th

 

September 29th

 

September 30th

His bare feet were numb on the cold, wet road. The ragged clothes on his body were no shelter from the howling wind. There was no frown on this boy’s face. He wore a stubborn scowl like a shield and pressed forward. It was #inevitable in his mind that he’d find shelter.

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Very Short Stories, Week 23

Another weekend has come and gone and I already long for the next one. I find them relaxing in such a new way in the fall. Here’s hoping Autumn will help me blossom.

Anyways, I tried to not to be too repetitive with this week’s set of prompts and I think I pulled it off. Not gonna lie, I feel I have lost the sensory aspect of my writing and I’m trying to tap into it again. Working on my description that way as it were. So here’s hoping that’s noticeable in the future!

 

September 17th

The wolves prowled the ground, tracking the scent until they came across their prey. Low to the ground, they crawled forward in the dense grass. In the quiet evening sun, their paws dashed forward in thunderous waves. Their #carnivorous fangs sank into the fat of the calf.

 

September 18th

His warmth welcomes her, leaves her #infatuated with his presence. His words soothe her, teaching her to love who he is inside.

But their souls?

Those meet in the dark nights, wrapped in need and want for each other. Connecting their broken pieces for one whole being.

 

September 19th

The path into the dark is never lined with light. It’s a #cavernous descent into the bowels of one’s own soul. Eyes adjust slowly to constant night and it’s left to one’s imagination how the trail begun. But it is home now. Its warmth and smell of brimstone there always.

 

September 20th

In the heat of the moment, passion #devours the mind. Thoughts of laundry and chores vanish. And they’re at the edge, the peak, the tiptop of release. They disintegrate into a husk rocked by wave after wave of climax. The body controls the wheel and only lets go after orgasm.

 

September 21st

In the depths of her bones, in its very #marrow, were the answers to her abilities. And she couldn’t let him harvest it. Struggling against the restraints, they frayed and snapped, freeing her. She grabbed the thin shaft of the scalpel and lashed out at the doctors.

 

September 22nd

My #garden lies barren. Its soil hard and unyielding. There are no weeds to pull, no flowers to tend. Instead it weakens further, unnurtured. The sun dries it and the wind kicks at its dust. When the rain comes, I fear it will be too late. Another patch of death.

 

September 23rd

The #Equinox seemed to approach faster this year, leaving her frazzled. She ran her hand through her hair and collected the stones she owned. The polished black of the hematite called to her and she held its rounded edges in her palm. This will do, she thought and began.

Very Short Stories, Week 22

Good Monday morning! Or at least, I hope it will turn into one if it hasn’t yet.

My dreams were sweet and intoxicating, and kept me in bed longer than I’d like. But here I am with my very short stories.

Here you go!

 

September 10th

The tree lay on its side, but relatively intact. Winds from last night’s storm #uprooted its proud base, leaving it exposed to the elements. She wandered over to it in sun’s brilliant rays and mourned its fate to shrivel and decay.

But the tree didn’t give up.

 

September 11th

#Smoke tumbles off the burning logs, crawling slowly towards the heavens. The fire’s scent hangs in the air and spreads its warmth and fond memories. Leaves rustle underfoot and form a carpet on soon to sleep grass. The taste of Autumn is in the air, beckoning.

 

September 12th

Rain gathered behind the dam’s walls. Its angered waters licked and spilled over its confinement, taunting those in its way. Shouts were scarcely heard over the storm, ordering evacuation.

The police rushed to remove those in the city below, to beat the #floodwaters.

 

September 13th

The teachers blamed the #lunar eclipse but the students only wanted freedom. From rules and regulations. From homework and grades. From the rigors suffocating creativity. They longed to spread their wings and read from forbidden works.

Really, they wanted stimulation.

 

September 14th

I remember doing #somersaults on the ground. The grass wet or dry, but soft against my clumsiness. I remember it turned into flips in the air that ended badly, too. I remember the child in me who made the attempt despite the outcome.

Where did she go?

 

September 15th

His eyes were #amber and sweet like honey. They raked over her naked body, sending shivers across her skin. Tension rose between them in the still silence. The pure sexual energy demanded release.

If she were a lock, his kiss was the key to unleash both their passion.

 

September 16th

Her fingers fluttered like hummingbirds across the keys of the piano. It was the only thing betraying her #euphoric mood. With eyes shut and lips a thin line, no one thought she was anything but serious. The notes that rose and fell were uplifting, demanding. Like her.

Very Short Stories, Week 21

This past week has been tougher day by day. I feel stuck. I feel completely different. And the worst part? I have no idea how to change it.

I’m pushing through trying to stick to some routine and tackle things around the house, but I feel hollow about it all. My hope was writing more types of prompts would help, but it isn’t working so far.

Great segwey, eh? You’ll be seeing some #vsspoem posts once a week from now on and same with #BraveWrite. If I stick with it, who knows what might happen, right?

Anyways, here are my very short stories for the week without any further rambling.

 

September 3rd

Her #mysteries were caged in barbed wire. They surrounded her, welcomed her darkness. Whispered horrors and sordid images filled her every waking breath. And yet the Evil she held remained a secret. She wiped sweat from her brow and walked away from the newly dug hole.

 

September 4th

She chased the glowing #horizon

Its edge calling to her

She longed to free fall

into the abyss

Sink or swim

in a sea of words

 

Her fingers could craft

poems

short stories

novels

if given reign

 

And so she chased

the glowing #horizon

for a future it might hold

if she caught it

 

September 5th

Words of strange properties leapt from her lips as a soft whisper. Her magic danced in colourful swirls along the rocks she’d gathered. It caressed and curled about the stones like a lover. Before her gaze, they #crystallized, clear and crisp like an autumn day.

 

September 6th

The night put its arms around her, an old and welcome friend. Her radiant smile shone light upon the tides she taunted into play. In the black sky, she gossiped with the stars, twinkling by her side. And as the sun cast golden rays on the horizon, she waved hello to #daybreak.

 

September 7th

The #serendipity of it all, she determined, typing a response to a stranger’s message. And yet… he wasn’t a stranger. Her heart and soul knew he was meant for her like the sun and moon belonged to the sky. Eight years later, she still couldn’t pinpoint how she had known.

 

September 8th

#Comets blazed through the sky and diminished into nothing more than cosmic dust. From the comfort of her room, she chased their wandering trails with her eyes. They must live brilliant lives to be gone so quickly from existence, she mused. If only I could chart myself a course.

 

September 9th

The tree that grew in her backyard served as a reminder. #Souls have branches, roots. They reach, connect, support, and thrive with companionship. She couldn’t keep hers locked in a jar for fear of rejection or failure.

She had to open it. And she did. Her soul had wings now.

Very Short Stories, Week 19

It’s been a tough week and I still feel lost and unsure. I know I should push forward and fight to normalize my routine again but… The weight of Jasper’s death still clings to me and the silence is a knife straight through my heart.

I hope by trying to tap into other things for the prompts, I might banish this sadness that comes in waves. Hopefully, the ache will lessen with a bit more time and I’ll be able to carry on.

Anyways, the vssof this week still deal with Jasper, but I tried to write about other things, too. I hope you enjoy them.

 

August 20th

My #haven is my pets. The soft touch of their fur on my hands and their attentive, soul piercing gaze as they listen to every word. I lost a piece of my haven last night. His barks that woke me with his demands. His warmth as he snuggled close at night. Gone. But not forever.

 

August 21st

Staring at the x-rays of her dog, she was #blindsided by the news.

We usually see this with cancer, the vet explained.

The rest of his words were lost on her and tears fell like silent rain down her cheeks. Her husband’s hand was rough yet warm as it rubbed her shoulder.

 

August 22nd

The #wilds of the world shrink and shrivel in the grasp of greedy humans. Trees fall, uprooted and cut. Lakes dry under an unforgiving sun. Grassy meadows become concrete beaches. Our touch turns the world into a cold, unforgiving landscape. Nature’s tears and cries unheard.

 

August 23rd

#Bright lights twinkled like rare gems above them. A sky full of treasure they’d never see or know. The soft colours danced upon the packed dirt and they followed it forward, hands clasped in each others. The world was still and silent as they reached the clear waters.

 

August 24th

The silence is neverending. An unbreakable entity consuming any whisper of noise and leaving a desperate void in its wake. She cries but the sounds of her sobs dissipate into a vacant air. Sadness fills her gaze like waters in a still lake. The ripples #shatter silence.

 

August 25th

Even when the #skyline hid behind trees, her bare feet carried her onward. Just beyond the horizon, she repeated, dragging her tired soul despite its cries. In the daylight, the sun battered her skin through ripped fabric. Her raspy breaths echoed in her ears as she collapsed.

 

August 26th

I #confess

my heart is broken

my mind is unguided

my body is hollowed.

I confess

my path forward is gone

my dream is muddled

my goals lost to time

I confess

I don’t know what to do

Take time to heal

or push right through.

I confess

my only solace is sleep

and it calls again.

Very Short Stories, Week 18

I lost my dog, Jasper, last night. Cancer took him from us in the blink of an eye.  We spoiled him as best we could in his last days.

I don’t have words right now, and I’m sorry my vss365s are a day late… I hope they are relatable reads despite the sadness in them.

 

August 13th

He taught us about #renegades, Vivian whispered to Damian in the back of the army transport. I didn’t understand why since they were rebellious, traitorous, you know? But I get it now.

You do? He asked, his nose wrinkled in confusion.

They always died, she replied.

 

August 14th

#Stubborn

is a word

I wear like a cloak.

Shields my Dreams

from the

Naysayers

and my heart

from the

Breakers.

If I’m Stubborn

as they say

I’ll stay

on

track

Push past the

Mountains

in my way

to succeed.

Stubborn

is a word

I embrace like a

sister.

 

August 15th

#Explosions of gunfire sounded in the distance, echoing off the buildings and nearby woods. Vivian paused for a moment, her eyes wide with worry, but she chased after her sister. They’ll be okay, she chanted in her mind. I have to believe that.

 

August 16th

Her pain was a #symphony played on ripped muscles and broken bones. Her sopranos whimpered and her altos moaned, whilst the male parts sang lists of what to do. She didn’t care for any of it, unwelcome in her body.

She greeted the sedation like a long lost lover. Grateful.

 

August 17th

Damian could only #imagine what Vivian was going through. Needles, scalpels, and a windowless room flooded his mind. His fists clenched, he dropped into a push-up. Raising time and again off bruised and bloody knuckles, a plan formed in his mind. I’ll find you, Vivian, he decided

 

August 18th

My #favourite memory is walking into the pet store and seeing his face. His eyes , one blue and one brown, staring at me as his tail wagged a mile a minute. I knew in that moment he would be my best friend. The least I can do is be by his side in the end.

 

August 19th

Happy memories still #linger though his struggling breaths draw her back to the present. She pets his soft fur, whispering love and sorries into his floppy ears. Pain stabs at her heart like a thousand needles. Tears run freely down her cheeks. But she’ll stand watch over him.

Very Short Stories, Week 16!!!

Hey, guys! I can’t believe it has been FOUR MONTHS since I started doing the very short stories prompts on Twitter. It has kept me writing and challenged me in new ways.

The best thing I like about the #vss365 is it continually challenges my creativity and my ability to show rather than tell. Sometimes, I don’t deliver what I really want, but most of the time I really enjoy them!

My nephew has gone home and so it is time to settle back into a familiar routine that includes working on my manuscript. I’m prepping somemore tools to really help me get it to that polished level.

Anyways, I’ll keep this short. Here are my very short stories for the week!

 

July 30th

Birds of a feather #flock together, she told her daughter and ruffled her hair. You’ll be fine! I promise.

The daughter nodded and grabbed the familiar hand of her mother, worn with age. They walked down the gravel road of their drive way to wait for the school bus.

 

July 31st

The #Queen of Darkness reigned over nightmares and relished the sounds of screams. Pained wails bounced off the remains of her stone castle that night. The cries mingled with the smell of spilt blood to soothe her soul and she dreamed of red drops in the depths of depravity.

 

August 1st

The #cellar doors were smashed bits, surrounding the poorly lit opening. Its stairs descended into the pitch black with no end in sight. The flashlight shook in her hands but she clicked the light on. Cautious steps took her down the steps. The creaking echoed for miles.

 

August 2nd

#Familiar hands clasped hers, warm and soothing. But she didn’t hear his words. She’d vanished into a funeral in her mind’s eye, surrounded by fragrant flowers and the tears of the mourning. The coffin before her was made of oak, strong and sturdy like her father had been in life.

 

August 3rd

It’s a tough lesson when it comes to #sacrifice, the teacher said. His high school students sat there, bored but silent. Their gaze weighed on his shoulders and he breathed deeply. You see, certain jobs have more risks than others. They require a willingness to give and not get.

 

August 4th

Stars shimmered in the night sky like glitter on a black cloth. The pale face of the moon was absent, waiting rebirth the next night. She moved the telescope slowly, hunting for a different celestial body. Aha! She exclaimed as #Jupiter came into focus. Just beautiful!

 

August 5th

The #Empress stood still and silent, an observer of her husband’s power. Her role was nothing more than to enhance his presence.

She loathed him for it.

Her eyes roamed the army til they spotted her soldier. His attire shone in the light. Memories of his touch tempted her again.

Very Short Stories, Week 15

Good morning, friends! Couple things to share today…

This week, My hubby and I are taking one of our nephews to stay with us. There’ll probably be some Pokemon Go and Harry Potter: Wizards Unite. Swimming, splash pads, day trips. Or maybe a more lazy week with in home reading and crafting. Who knows!

Because of this, I will most likely be absent from my blog and less active on Twitter (if you follow me on there; if not, here’s me! @KEMwriting ). There’s no point trying to guarantee blog posts when I’m going to be focused on having fun and laughs with my nephew!

It also means little editing will be done on my book. I plan on making time for it since the writer’s life for me will eventually mean children of my own. This will be a great way to figure that aspect out more.

While I’m off for a week of joy and adventures, I hope this week is fulfilling for the rest of you! Take care!

Oh, and enjoy my very short stories just below!

 

July 23rd

This is #folly, she cried and barrelled out the open window of the train compartment after her friend. She heard a splash seconds before cold water surrounded her, pulling at her limbs. Unbuttoning her heavy clothes, she sprung to the surface and sought out her friend.

 

July 24th

Such a waste of time, she determined and slammed her laptop closed. What a #joke, thinking I could be a writer. She tossed her USB across the room and left it there like a piece of forgotten trash.

 

Pick me up now, it seemed to say from the floor. We’re not done yet.

 

July 25th

Vivian stepped out of her room and the black dress clung to her body like a wet glove. A hesitant smile played on her lips as she descended the staircase. In front of Damian’s hungry gaze, her cheeks turned scarlet.

 

His kiss was sudden yet she #answered it with passion.

 

July 26th

Give ’em #hell, his dad said and tapped his gloves.

He entered the cage to the roars of the crowd and threw his arms up high with his own shout. Pacing back and forth, he watched his opponent. They approached each other, knocked fists and squared up.

The bell rang.

 

July 27th

What’s your #intent with my son? she asked. Her legs were crossed, hands rested on her knee.

I plan on making him happy til the end of my days, he answered and smiled. He fiddled with the ring box in his pocket.

That settles it then. You have my blessing, she grinned.

 

 

July 28th

Do you get it yet?

I want You gone

Disappear

Vanish

Into a Darkness

only You can

Summon

Tired of cruel whims

that Sabotage my attempts

You’re a bad taste

Lingering

Unwanted

I #renounce You

and Your Tainted Touch

Vilify

Condemn

Your Traitorous ways

 

Goodbye, Reflection

 

 

July 29th

#Stray dogs littered the streets; unwanted and untended. She shook her head at the sight until a wet nose kissed her hand. Smiling, she stroked the ragged pup and it demanded belly rubs. I can’t save them all but I can save this one, she mused and took it home with her.

Very Short Stories, Week 14

Another Monday is upon us and it’s dreary where I am! The sun is still hiding and my desk isn’t calling to me, but we’re here nonetheless.

 

I don’t have much to say about my past week. Grammarly picked a fight and seems to be winning though I ignore it telling me to get rid of my ‘u’s. I am combing back through the first 25 chapters I edited to correct comma use with Grammarly’s help.

It’s my first book and I’m probably still trying to find my voice, but I think I’m getting there! *fingers crossed*

Anyways, here are my very short stories from the past week! Hope you enjoy!

 

July 16th

Her reservoir is deep, filled to the brim with tears unshed, and words left unsaid. Every day she sits, pen in hand, and #delves into its ink. In scrolling shapes, she spills it unto the white page to lessen its load, but the day calls her forward.

And it fills again.

 

July 17th

#Reputation is everything,

they say.

From your hair

to your clothes,

you better look

crisp and clean.

A smudge on your face

could destroy you.

Keep shut that pretty mouth

for silence is your friend.

Forget opinions

or willpower.

Subservience to the norm,

Master

 

July 18th

Eyes glanced over the mutilated plants of her vegetable garden. Leaves were decorated in holes made by insects and weather. Long stalks & stems lay mangled on the dirt. Their produce, half-eaten, was left to rot and decay amongst the yellowing life.

#Unlikely to recover.

 

July 19th

One peek outside Vivian’s brick and mortar cage was all she could remember of freedom. Kilometres of space met forest, all #verdant shades, and guards patrolled every inch.

In the classroom, his voice shattered the idea of grass on her toes, “Vivian, are you listening?”

 

July 20th

She longed to #fly alongside the birds and forsake the Earth for clouds. A palace made of fluffiness and her crown jewelled with rain. She’d rule with kindness and love in her mind’s world.

The grass soft against her back but her mind soared with the winged creatures.

 

July 21st

The library #stacks were coated in dust, thick and displeasing. Rows of lines were traced by fingertips on book spines and footsteps marred the floor. She followed them, desperate for another human. A thud echoed in the distance and she raced towards it to find blue eyes.

 

July 22nd

#Elsewhere
I wish to be
Free from doubts
And failure

Elsewhere
I wish to be
With certain goals
Achieved

Elsewhere
I wish to be
In a new home
And energy

Elsewhere
I wish to be
At my desk
Instead

Elsewhere
I wish to be
In health
and serenity

Elsewhere
I wish to be
…

Very Short Stories, Week 9

Let me start of by apologizing for what I am sure are some of the worst very short stories I’ve ever written. My brother’s wedding was this past Saturday, the 15th, and I spent most of the week leading up to it at my mom’s getting some things together.

Feeling rushed, I’m sure these are not my best works. (I also wrote the last three today, because time did not work for me this weekend.)

On another note, I did managed to edit a chapter a day since I needed to do something for me. Plus, my brother and his wife seem to think my book (and hopeful livelihood) are much less important than their wedding was, but were not really around to help either. Bit of a double standard when your family is fixing your mistakes and last minute forgetfulness, too. They also thought since they didn’t directly request my help, it shouldn’t matter to them what I could be doing instead. Sibling love, right?

Anyways, I apologize for the rant and bitching. Here are my very short stories!

 

June 11th

His world was painted in colours, not the dreary greys of others. They suffered their days, filled by pain, yet he danced away, unscathed. Had he listened a second He’d have heard their desires Greys would have stomped out His colours. But he had no time No #empathy.

 

June 12th 

Bindings held down her breasts beneath a jersey cloth t-shirt. Her hair kept short, and hopefully masculine. A deep breath left her, and she entered the ring. She squared off to her opponent, a thick man covered in muscle. The first punch was his. Her #ruse was working.

 

June 13th

#Midnight blue waters swept her further from shore at the moon’s bidding. Ivory skin disappeared from sight despite its luminescence, but no one was searching for her. The stars kept her company with their whispered secrets and hushed giggles. Her new home beckoned.

 

June 14th

Lightning cracked the sky
Its #bolts forking
In quick
Bursts

Illuminating a pure darkness
And those within
Mere seconds
Passed

Rain dripped from ruptures
In menacing clouds
The plants
Reached

Earth scorched by heat
From the Heavens
The sound
Deafening

 

June 15th

In the late writer’s office sat a typewriter, and papers surrounded it. The pages once covered in words, had faded lettering from unread sentences. Untouched for decades, the room had become a #vintage ode to the world of writing. The lack of electronic hum was calming.

 

June 16th

The yellow cedar wood had been debarked, barren of all branches and leaves. Naked, it stood vulnerable, unidentifiable.

Sharpened rocks, seashells, and beaver’s teeth lay out on a leather mat, ready for the carver. With one in hand, he set to work on the clan’s #totem.

 

June 17th

#Fog crawled over the land, in slow yet sprawling steps. Solid white, it hid the world, and itself from sight. It crept in through open windows, and woke those inside to a white blanket of blindness. Silence reigned for hours before the screams first began. A subtle chaos.