My big brother said to go hide while he counted to a hundred. Then he’d come look for me.
I can’t count that high, but I’ve been here ever such a long time.
I think I’ve found the best hiding place ever and maybe he can’t find me.
I WON!
From a prompt by Hélène Vaillant of Willow Poetry
https://helenevaillant.com/2019/05/07/what-do-you-see-may-7-2019/
***
And just because it’s such a lovely sunny day here, I thought I’d share this with you:
What do you see, Tiger Lily?
I see the moon.
I see the path shining in front of me, illuminated in the bright moonlight.
What else?
Nothing else.
What do you feel, Tiger Lily?
I feel the dampness of the night.
I feel the ground, wet beneath my feet.
What do you hear, Tiger Lily?
I hear waves breaking on a shore far away.
Do I hear you breathing?
Why can’t I see you?
What do you smell, Tiger Lily?
I smell the dampness of the earth.
Nothing else.
Where are you?
What do you taste, Tiger Lily
I taste nothing.
Just emptiness.
What do you remember, Tiger Lily?
I remember when we first met; on a moon-bright night like this.
I remember… everything.
And what do you want, Tiger Lily?
I want you back.
Written in response to The Haunted Wordsmith’s Daily Prompt 28.04.19
I watch the time countdown on my screen. My shift is about to start. I run my fingers over the keyboard. I’m ready.
The workload has been increasing. So far I’m keeping up. The monitoring is continual. From the moment you are woken until the lights and screens are turned off: when to shower, when to eat, when to take a break.
It’s all about production, efficiency, the bottom line.
Clock in, clock off, clock out. Thank you for your contribution.
At least I’m only writing ‘soapies’ to entertain the masses. Imagine the pressure if I was doing something crucial.
100 word story written in response to Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith’s Genre Writing Challenge April 16: Technological Horror
The Foremost Developer had taken the bait: 100 acres of rain-forest, ripe for replanting with oil palms. He rubbed his hands. His bulldozers were ready. But this time Gaia had been awakened; she too was ready for destruction. This time the earth would revolt. It would not be the last.
50 word story written in response to Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith’s Genre Writing Challenge.
– Okay, that’s what I signed, but I didn’t sign up for this.
– What do you mean?
– I signed up to write one post a day, every day, for a month.
– To start with.
– Yes, but…
– Didn’t you read the small print?
– No, well, I just assumed…
– Never assume.
– But…
– It increases in intensity. Exponentially each day. One post a day, two posts a day, four, then eight…
– So today’s Day Seven and it’s 64 posts, then tomorrow it’ll be 128 and the next day 256 and so on.
– Exactly.
– Well, sorry, I can’t. I quit.
– You quit. Okay.
– Thanks.
– You didn’t read the penalty clause then?
– No… What? Oh no!
– So what’s it going to be?
– Okay. I’ll do it.
– Sign here.
From Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith‘s Story Starter Challenge #6 – 1 day late, blame the time zone.
With best wishes to Camp-NaNoWriMo’s and NoPoWriMo’s everywhere!
Small, brown-clad, zip-lining across the city skyline, the bird-like acrobat would alight on the tiniest ledge. Clip on, push off, hurtling through the topmost branches of the urban jungle. But tempted, the bird became a cat, a peeping tom. His wings were clipped and now The Sparrow flies no more.
50 word story, written in response to Paula Light‘s Three Things Challenge: PL51
In the sodium lit, neon flicking city, electricity hums.
In homes where data downloads and Netflix streams,
everything’s on tap, content feeds.
No more mysteries, no more myths,
fables are unnecessary. All is explained
by an expert, a pundit or an app.
A glorious storm floods the dark skies,
unnoticed a lightning bolt flies.
A switch is tripped. Darkness.
Emergency lights click on, generators kick in,
faces are blue-screen illuminated.
No-one tells stories any more.
From a prompt by Hélène Vaillant of Willow Poetry
https://helenevaillant.com/2019/04/02/11001/
The restaurant was closed the following day and I was leaving that afternoon. What potent ingredient had been in the aperitif which caused the world to change before my eyes?
A seemingly innocuous ruby concoction which rendered people’s reflections invisible and gave me a voracious appetite for the steak tartare.
50 word story written in response to Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith‘s Genre Writing Challenge. I’m not quite sure that I pulled it off, but it’s just a bit of fun!
Based on a strange evening I once had in Seville. I’ll tell you about it sometime.
He was dressed in an orangutan suit. It must have been itchy as he scratched himself rather a lot. Or perhaps it was part of his act. We thought it was just a prank, but then we discovered he was an undercover insurance agent, tracking a gang of kleptomaniac chimpanzees.
50 word story, written in response to Paula Light‘s Three Things Challenge: PL47
Henry cashed in his dividends and purchased an exclusive package to an upmarket campsite deep in the African bush. He got all the gear, the khaki shirt and pants, the wide-brimmed hat and he was on his way. He knew exactly what was what. He’d read a guide book. Or at least, he’d looked at some of the pictures.
He arrived and was greeted warmly by his hosts. After the briefing, to which he paid limited attention, he decided to go for a walk, all by himself.
Caught short, he squatted by a Khaya tree. As he perched precariously, a long, sinuous tree snake with bright yellow eyes wound its way down the trunk. Clearly offended by what it saw, it opened its jaws and fastened onto Henry’s tender regions.
Henry howled. He jumped up. He ran for the camp, clutching his pants.
But the venom circulated rapidly. It spread throughout his bloodstream into the tissues and the nerves. Henry collapsed in front of his luxury tent.
Later he was flown home in a polished box made from Kanya wood. The irony would, no doubt, have been lost on the hapless Henry.
Written in response to Paula Light’s Three Things Challenge PL45 with a little nod to my own recent close encounter with a boomslang!
And for those of you old enough to remember: enjoy!
luna's on line 