Red String
Elyria fought to open her eyes. She was so tired and everything felt so heavy. She opened her eyes and blinked. The room was dark and yet not dark. Was she lying down? She wasn’t sure. She lifted her arm and saw a red string tied to her finger with a perfectly tied bow. The drugged feeling was making her confused. She “stood” in the darkness, but was still disoriented by the feeling of whether or not there was floor or not floor. Something drew her to follow the red string through this strange place that was and was not.
I Was A Goddess
I was a goddess, an empress, a lover, a wife, and a mother. I had many followers and friends and I loved them. I had community. I miss the people of the place we inhabited. It was my world and with other gods we created it. I knew it better than the world I was supposed to live in. I made a decision in that “real” world and I lost them all. You shouldn’t have regrets, but… But maybe things could have been different. Maybe things would have turned out differently and I wouldn’t always look back on what was.
No Tears
Oh he was angry, but her status rivaled his. She was in the right. He turned and slammed the door behind him and a muffled yell at the guards was heard. Turning around to face her ladies in waiting she saw faces ranging from embarrassed to scared to smug. “No tears,” she told herself silently. Her long skirts dragged the ground as she returned to her seat by the light of the window. Sitting down and picking up her embroidery hoop, she smiled and asked, “So what shall we do today? I bet the rain will clear up by noon.”
Title: The places of your childhood.
The day is hot and still. Birds chirp outside in the trees, picking off the ripening mulberries that make a purple mess on the ground. A breeze blows and the leaves’ shadows create a familiar pattern on the floor. Now this room is a dining room with a wooden floor, but there was a time, twenty odd years ago, when it was a living room with worn down brown shag carpeting and little padding. A big TV in a cabinet stood at the far end of the room playing episodes of Perry Mason while an older woman ironed the laundry.
The dark shapes shifted through the water and light reflected on the walls and ceiling of the dark underground room as water lapped against the sides of the large pool. She stood a few feet from the edge. She didn’t turn her to look at the elderly man in the room as he walked in. He stopped just behind her. Even bent over from age he was tall. “They’re my little pets.” The sharks in the water were neither little or pets. He leaned his face close to her neck and brushed her hair back, softly he added, “They’re hungry.”
Have Patience
Water dripped all around as she sat against an old tree. She was cold, but at least her gear kept her dry. She looked through the scope of her rifle for any movement. Scouts had been seen in the area and it was best to take them out first. She glanced up through the trees for an idea of the time, but it was the clouds were too heavy. As she shifted back to position, a stick snapped behind her. By reflex she swung around to face her assailant. The last thing she saw was the butt of a rifle.
Prompt #25: Quote IV
The teen slid down the overgrown embankment, more like a small cliff and landed hard on the crumbling asphalt. He stood and looked up, covering his eyes from the mist that was quickly turning to rain. “Careless,” he thought. In his lifetime a hospital or doctor was a fireside story. He knelt and picked up three rabbits strung together that he’d collected from his snares that morning. The road crested at the top of a hill before dropping away to reveal a small cabin below with smoke curling from the chimney and the warm glow of the windows signalling home.
This is all too true. I live about about forty miles east of Dayton and hardly a week goes by where you don't hear of a new overdose death. Just last night there was one in our small town.
He opened his eyes groggily and saw her sitting there. He closed them again, fighting sleep and half opened them again. Still there. The room was mostly dark, lit only by monitors and a single fluorescent tube above the small sink in the room.
She stared at him as she brushed a strand of black hair behind her ear. "It's time for you to come home."
He groaned as he shifted in the bed, "Is that your message or theirs?"
She shrugged as she stared into the dark windows of the towering building across the street. "Is there a difference?"



100 WordsPrompt #37 - Shakespeare IApr 11 at 10:13 AM