Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Some stories and a brief (non-whiny) update.

Still alive!  This blog has slipped a lot in my attentions of late, but I'm getting words on paper IRL. The "quick" novel is comfortably into its second year of first draft, but it's also further along than I've ever been with a story before, so that's exciting.

In the meantime, I'm polishing a short story or two, and continuing to pop in from time to time at "The Prediction", now hosted by the very capable, super supportive Sandra Davies.

Here are a few of my most recent entries. (I'd forgotten how much I like this short-short-short form for capturing a single moment/emotion/reaction.)


Little Boy Blue

Carly sat at the edge of the bluff, trying to see where the sky took over from the ocean.

In her lap, the dusty music box wound down. She remembered fighting with Jacob over the toy, each claiming it as a gift from Grandmother.

Without looking down, Carly’s fingers wound the key. Dulcet music played, and the little bronze bear, wearing his jacket of green patina turned and turned again.

With a scream, she flung the thing away, and watched it tumble end over end to the rocks below, tinkling all the way.

What sound had Jacob made, she wondered.

Abominable horizon

We lived in the desert for just under eight months. The days scoured away our good humour and the nights bled away our compassion. Our world was awash in neutral nothing. Our ocean was the sky, and sand our ocean.

I missed colour. Huddling close to the fire near the end, my baked linen jacket crackling around my shoulders, I wondered that more people in our group hadn’t spilled the blood of their neighbour - just to see red again.

Like I had.

asp, personality, theft

Diana’s fingers brushed the silver scales of the asp. The piece had a wicked personality all its own: Cleopatra’s Bane, dipped in precious metal.

She draped the snake around her neck, Its jewelled head resting inside her decolletage. She smiled. Beguiling the guards with her beauty had been nearly as amusing as the theft itself.

The Duke’s voice sounded behind her. “Your reputation precedes you, Diana. It is tragic, in a way, that it ends here.”

Diana slipped a loop on her glove, allowing her dagger to drop into her waiting palm. It was time to show her fangs.

buckle, deficit, purple

“Is it bad that my belly button is turning purple?” I asked.

“The buckle is clasped a little too far down,” replied the clerk. “Makes you look amazing, though.” On the word amazing, she leaned in and, in the mirror, I caught a glimpse of something I shouldn’t be looking at.

I did some mental budgeting. These pants and belt represented the end of my “luxury” spending for the month.

“Ooh, how about this shirt, too?” she added, holding it in front of my chest, her somethings pressed against my back.

“Okay,” I whispered, and decided to run a deficit.

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