Hopeless: Flash Fiction #AmWriting #MondaysMuse #CreativeWriting

No matter how much he stared outward, no matter how much light he allowed to pierce the darkness of the room through the sheers that blanketed the window, he still could not bring himself to step outside.

Was he afraid? Yes. Admitting that he was as full of fear as his bones were of marrow was no hard thing. It was easier than breathing for him. Sometimes even taking in a breath seemed too difficult a feat.

This game was best played in the shadows. The less of him that anyone noticed the better.

His fingers flinched with the phantom vibration of his mobile phone. He clenched his hands together and felt the familiar sting of tears. He was happy to be in the darkness even though the sun was just outside the window. The darkness hid his fears, his shame, his salty tears.

Frustrated with the foolish picture he painted, the loneliness of his empty hands, he snatched the curtains closed cutting off all traces of natural light before throwing himself down onto the sofa behind him.

“Three more days,” he heard his voice crack just as he heard the garage door swing open. He would stay hidden for three more days. Just three more days.

The pointed tips of brown heels stepped into his downcasted sight line. The familiar scent of soft perfume tickled his nostrils, and then came her voice. It sent a shiver up his spine that made him wince. She was the source of his fear.

“Jordan, I hope to goodness you haven’t been sitting in here moping like somebody shot your puppy in front of you. Your homework better be done and the trash had better have been gathered.”

He dared not look up. “It is.” he all but hissed.

“Good. Now fix your tone and stop feeling sorry for yourself.” She opened the curtains fully. “You haven’t even been grounded for a full twenty-four hours.” Mom mumbled something about Dad fixing catfish for dinner with coleslaw.

A tear slid down Jordan’s face. He wouldn’t last three more hopeless days, not in the darkness, not without his phone, or food. They were definitely punishing him.

He hated coleslaw.

THE END

*I hope you enjoyed my results for this week’s Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt September 4th, 2017. 

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

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Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: August 28th, 2017 #MondaysMuse #WritingPrompt #CreativeWriting

OPENING LINE (S): “She scrolled down the screen with her thumb and read the text again. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t change anything now but oh how she wished she could.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Hunger in the Veins: Flash Fiction #Monday’sMuse #SciFi #Thriller

Vein City. That wasn’t its true name, but that’s how he felt about it. From there the very lifeblood of the world seemed to flow. He flexed his hands and watched his own veins pulse. It had cost him nearly everything within him to get there. 

Flipping open his wallet he stared at the nearly faded photograph of his family. So much had happened in so little time, but it was enough to wipe his mind clean. He couldn’t even remember their names. All he remembered were their faces.

That would have to be enough.

Truth be told, few men ever came back from the grave in the way that he had and those that did were only shells of themselves.

That was what Embryous was all about. Taking fully grown men and women, developed in every form of the word but not in their hearts, not in their emotions. Emotions were fickle. They got in the way. They kept the underdeveloped, the embryous, from doing what they were designed to do.

He flexed his hands again. They still burned from the crushing grip they’d held on…what was his name? He glanced back at the dead man’s face. Daryl, his name was Daryl. Daryl’s eyes were cold, lifeless, the product of Embryous, meaning dead.

In fairness, the Daryl had asked for it. They all had. Anyone who looked him in the eye saw his hunger. For anyone who tried to stop him from feeding his appetite, that look was the last thing they saw. Nothing would keep him from his former life. Nothing would keep him from his family.

That was why he was in Vein City. His family was his lifeblood and he was determined to live again.

THE BEGINNING…

*I don’t know if I will ever get around to fleshing out this tale, but I am curious about the nameless main character and Embryous. I have an inkling that things for him are not what they seem and finding that out will be like kicking a hornet’s nest. Anyhow, these are my results for Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt August 21st, 2017.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: August 21st, 2017 #CreativeWriting #Monday’sMuse #WritingPrompt

OPENING LINE (S): “Vein City. That wasn’t its true name, but that’s how he felt about it. From there the very lifeblood of the world seemed to flow. He flexed his hands and watched his own veins pulse. It had cost him nearly everything within him to get there. ”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: August 14th 2017 #Monday’sMuse #CreativeWriting #WritingPrompt

OPENING LINE (S): “Watching him took her breath away. It was strange how he was so out of place on that land, and yet, somehow, he fit.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: August 7th, 2017

OPENING LINE (S): “She stood paralyzed in the face of destruction, knowing full well she should run for cover. But the way the wind seemed to snatch the air from her lungs, kept her in place, no, it drew her closer toward the danger.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: July 31st, 2017 #Monday’sMuse #CreativeWriting #Fiction

OPENING LINE (S): “Is it wrong that I hope the knife slips and he cut off his fingertip? Sam is not a cook! He can’t even microwave a hot dog, yet for her, he seems to be making the extra effort.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: July 24th 2017 #Monday’sMuse #CreativeWriting #Fiction

OPENING LINE (S): “Truth was, he didn’t want to parent, let alone know how to parent. But staring at her solemn face, eyes ready for seemingly common rejection, he didn’t feel as if he had a choice.”

RULES: 

  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to icameforthesoup@gmail.com and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.

(PLEASE KEEP ENTRIES THAT NEED TO BE POSTED ON THIS SITE WITHIN A PG13 RANGE. THANK YOU)

My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

No Time for Complaint: A Short Story #AmWriting #SciFi #Fiction

He stared down at his phone, relishing the reminder he had saved as his home-screen. Without it he would fall to shreds, he would never be able to stomach what he had to do.

“Stop complaining. Stop complaining,” he mumbled the words under his breath, wiping the sweat from his palms down the side of his jeans. He always got nervous on these assignments. He wasn’t cut out for this line of work.

“What’s that, sir?” The driver asked, his water gaze-liquid from his senior age-glanced back at him through the rear view mirror.

Harvey smiled, forcing the heavy corners of his mouth to stay upward. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

The driver nodded and returned his gaze to the road. “It will get worse when you get older, the talking to yourself. You tend to forget a whole lot more when you get to my age.” The man chuckled.

Harvey’s stomached roiled. “How old are you exactly?” He couldn’t resist the urge to ask. He envied people like him, those properly balanced upon the threads of time.

“Seventy-eight this December,” he smiled through the mirror again. “Me and the missus have been going strong for fifty-eight of those years.”

“Oh,” Harvey’s head was beginning to pound. He shouldn’t have asked.

“Yes indeed! Me and Gladys have ourselves five strapping sons, thirteen grand kids, and three great-grands.” More laughter. “There are blessings to old age.”

“I would agree,” Harvey sounded more bitter than he’d intended. At this rate, he’d never know what it was like to be old, really, old…properly dead. As far as his accounting, out side of his thirty-one apparent years, he was more accurately two-hundred and forty-six.

His phone buzzed in his hands. A text message, the same as his home-screen came across his phone. “Stop complaining…Do your job…You are on borrowed time. Mr. Lemon doesn’t abide panic-attacks.” Harvey’s fingers cramped they curled in so tightly. He couldn’t help but panic!

He was going to panic. He always did when he was done ruining someone else’s life.

The car stopped and as if he was breaking through the surface of water moments after the threat of drowning, Harvey pushed open the door and forced air into his lungs.

Three deep breaths, and he was in the necessary fog that he needed to not complain, not panic, not make a mistake as he tore one more poor soul from the threads of time, sentencing them to a fate similar to his own.

At least Mr. Lemon would be pleased.

THE…NOT SO END

*These are my results for Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt July 17th, 2017. If you find yourself confused, I apologize. This story is another thread woven into the world of  Mr. Lemon, Madelyn Haze, A Necessary Call, and so many others. If you stay tuned and follow my Author Site, you will get to find out a little more about Mr. Lemon and this world of his through my Debut Novel NEXUS GATE 4037: THE ANIMAL, Book 1 of THE MINISTRY OF TIME SAGA, Coming this FALL 2017/WINTER 2018! Stay connected and stay tuned!!!

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Worth the Sunshine: Micro Fiction #Fiction #AmWriting #Story

“You’re never going to find it!” She yelled at his back. The melodic giggle of her teasing voice made him continue his search. 

The car keys, what sane man would give his three-year-old the car keys? “One who is trying to convince his little girl that she is a big girl,” he shook his head at his own folly, wading through the cheery blooms of sunflowers whose faces seemed to follow him like they did the sun.

Sure, there were other ways to help her feel like a big girl. He could have been a bit less adventurous and simply taken the training wheels off her tiny bike. That would have given her confidence. “Along with several scrapes and bruises, and probably a broken limb.” He whispered to himself still continuing his search.

All of this trouble was just to convince her to sleep in her own room. He laughed at himself and stared back at the picture of his wife, their little girl grinning widely in his arms.

“Don’t give up, Daddy!”

Stopping in his place, fisted hands on his hips in mock anger he said, “But I thought you said I would never find them?”

She giggled again and buried her cherub face in her mother’s hair before her large brown eyes darted over to the public trash can. It was her usual slip when she played her practical jokes.

His heart sank, but at least his hope rose. Heaving a resigned breath he made his way to the trash can, shaking his head at his wife as she insisted they call for a tow.

The moment he touched the can his little girl shouted with sunny joy, clapping her sticky hands as she hailed him her hero.

All he could do was laugh, his pride rising at her loving praise of him. Parenting was messy business but it was certainly worth the sunshine, especially when it meant he got to be the hero.

THE END

*Honest answer…I forgot to do the prompt up until a few moments ago BUT I did enjoy my imagination giving birth to a light-hearted story. I hope you enjoyed the read. For the original prompt and instructions, see Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt July 10th 2017.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!