Another scheduled post on the theme of 3 sentence fics for #writingwednesday! Hope you’re having a good one!
“When I said less drama, more llama, I meant it in the metaphorical sense.”
“So I didn’t expect to come home to find a llama grazing in the garden!”
Over the concrete promenade, up the rough cut steps, following the steeper trail up the hill. Pause at the crest to watch the sun as it dips into the ocean. Welcome the sea breeze caresses as the day turns into night.
“What noise do ducks make?” she asked the toddler who was clutching her finger in his fist as they stood at the edge of the water.
The nearby mallard gave her a sideways glance and said, “Meow.”
The happy couples moved around the dance floor and he watched, enjoying the music.
“Dance with me?” Ben asked, holding out one hand.
He hesitated only a moment before accepting, letting Ben hold him close as they swayed to the melody, ignoring what anyone else in his family might think.
“Ben’s cute,” she said, nudging her brother as they took the air outside, his jacket draped around her shoulder. She smiled, adding, “I think we share the same taste in men.”
He laughed, relieved at her easy acceptance of this part of his life, and said, “He’s mine, sis!”
“Why are you laughing when I have you both at my mercy?” the villain asked, frowning, while the resistance leader, in chains next to the laughing man, was just as perplexed.
The anti-hero lifted his now free hands, a blade clutched in one, saying, “You don’t know me but I know how, after your adviser hired me to carry out an assassination, you ordered my murder. I survived and joined the resistance, let us get captured for this opportunity, the moment I finally take my revenge.”
Happy Sunday and end of June! Wishing you all the best for a fabulous July.
I’ll be away for a few days over the next week or so, so I’ve scheduled some posts for #writingwednesday and I’ll look forward to catching up with your posts when I get back. Drop any links you’d love me to see here 🙂
It looked simple enough when she saw it in the store. It wasn’t too small, but it wasn’t too large that she thought she wouldn’t be able to finish it. But, once she got home, took the plastic wrap off and removed the lid, she learned how very wrong she was. “Good lord, that’s a […]
For #writingwednesday another fic snippet for this month’s theme, focussing on WiP:WRE and the relationship between friends and colleagues, El and Romaine.
El savoured the mouthful of pancake, swallowed. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Romaine nodded. “Go on, then.”
“Why do we live in separate flats when we spend so much time in each other’s places?”
Romaine chewed slowly, surprised by the question.
“It would save on the rent,” El said. “If we moved in together.”
He swallowed. “There’s only one bedroom.”
“I didn’t mean here,” El said, gesturing. “There’s not room for both of our stuff in one of these flats, not with my clothes and coffee table and your desk.”
“And only one bed,” Romaine repeated.
“That too,” El said as if it was the least of her concerns. “We’d have to look for somewhere else, a two bedroom place. Maybe three, so we could have a home office, somewhere to put the desk and our books and things.”
Romaine cut another pancake up into bitesize pieces. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
El nodded. “I guess I’d like it if we moved in together. I mean we spend most of our time together anyway.”
“Isn’t that a concern? Don’t you ever come home from work and need alone time?”
She shrugged. “We spend more time together after work than alone. And it feels like alone time. Or something. I don’t feel you’re someone I have to stress about being with.”
While the words were coming out odd, he understood what she meant and he was touched. If he stopped to think about it, he felt the same way. Being with El wasn’t like being with other colleagues or going to a party. It was soothing and he missed her when she wasn’t there.
“And sometimes you go out or I’m out,” El said, “and we’ll have our own bedrooms to go sit in if we need quiet time. What do you think?”
Romaine let out a long exhale. At least she’d acknowledged the need for multiple bedrooms. “I think I need to think about it more.”
“Okay.” El got up to pour more coffee. “At least it’s not an outright no.”
For this week’s #writingwednesday here’s a fic snippet looking at the developing relationship between Bryony and Emeri in the WiP: Sorceress Apprentice.
Emeri knocked on the bedroom door, though it was open. Bryony turned to face him.
“When you’ve finished with that book,” he said, “I thought you might like to read this one, The Prince and Princess of Pandark.” He proffered a green leather book with gilt-edged pages. “One of my favourites. I warn you the first chapter is very slow. You can skim through it without missing much plot though, and the second chapter is where the action begins and doesn’t let up. I think you’ll find the ending very satisfying.”
She took the book. “Thank you.”
On impulse she leaned up and kissed his cheek. He gave her a look she couldn’t immediately interpret. She wished she were better at reading people, or that Emeri were easier to read.
“Was that wrong?” she asked when he didn’t move or speak.
He shook his head. “No.” He paused before he added, “Only unexpected.”
She placed the book on the bed to free up her hands, so that she could take his hand in hers. “We touch often,” she said, and her brain raced ahead, trying to make sense of things that were only making themselves apparent now. Every hug, every hand-holding, every caress had been for comfort. “But only when we’re hurting.”
When he was hurting. When she’d held him while he wept, for example
“I don’t want that. I want us to be happy, whenever we can be, and I don’t think being happy should make us less – ”
Damn, damn, what words did she need? She read voraciously, that was where she’d learnt the word voraciously, she knew hundreds or thousands of words. Yet so often when she opened her mouth it was as if she was five years old again, reduced to babbling trite phrases and lacking the vocabulary to fully express herself.
Emeri was still waiting for her to finish her thought.
When I wrote a short story about a journey to Cornwall Hayle was the destination mentioned. My favourite place. If you click the link to visit My Muse (cornwallincolours) you’ll see Godrevy lighthouse sited off the coast of the Hayle Towans beach. There are many more amazing photos at the blog.
For this week’s #writingwednesday and in honour of Pride Month, a snippet from fantasy drama wip: Juliet where the protagonist’s daughter, Sophia, and the antagonist’s daughter, Iona, bond on their sea voyage and discuss the ways their two cultures approach sexuality.
Aron took a coin from his pocket and flipped into the waves below. “For the sea gods. May they keep my kjaereste safe, back home.” He reached into his pocket and produced two more tiny copper discs, insisting the women take them. He placed a hand on his shoulder, inclined his head, and walked away.
Sophia held the coin tightly in her hand, thinking of her mother, of Sean, of her friends Evjor and Jeanne, of her cellmate, Valarie. She tossed the coin into the ocean, praying they stayed safe.
Iona rubbed at the copper. “I have no family I want to wish for. So instead I will pray the gods watch over those my mother has wronged.” Her coin too went into the waves. She stared after it for a while and then shivered.
“Let’s go back below,” Sophia said, putting one hand on Iona’s arm. As they walked she said, “What does it mean? Aron’s…sh— sha…”
“Kjaereste? It’s your beloved. Your darling. Your boyfriend or girlfriend.”
Sophia attempted the pronunciation a few times until Iona laughed and said she’d got it perfect. “It’s a nice word,” Sophia said, glowing with pride. It was nicer that Iona’s people were so open about relationships beyond a man and his obedient wife.
They went to Iona’s cabin and Iona sat on the bed, Sophia taking the chair.
“You speak the language fluently.”
Iona nodded. “My father thought it important for me to learn about my heritage. I can see how it’s difficult though, if you try to learn it as an adult.”
Sophia leaned back in the chair. “I’d like to try and learn a few words.”
“Here’s one you are probably already familiar with. Elskeravkvinner. A woman who loves women.” Iona gave a sly smile.
Sophia knew they’d become close, but they’d never discussed what she was now sure was a mutual attraction. “I’m not El— Es…I will learn to pronounce it correctly, I promise, but that’s not me. Not entirely.”
Iona, who’d become despondent at the declaration tipped her head. “What do you mean?”
“I am a woman who loves men and women. I’ve dated young men. I still find men attractive. I like to look at women but I’ve never found one I felt…desire for. Until now.” She lowered her gaze. “Anyway, I don’t know what I am, what the word is. Or the word for those like Sean, who desire no-one.”
Iona patted the bed. “Come and sit with me. I don’t know those words either. Maybe we need new words. Or maybe we don’t need to make distinctions.”
Sophia sat next to Iona and Iona leaned her head on Sophia’s shoulder. “There are distinctions. Men, women, princess, peasant. They matter.”
Iona put one hand on Sophia’s knee. “Not so much as you think.” She kissed Sophia’s cheek. Sophia turned her head. Iona gave her an encouraging look and Sophia leaned in. Their lips met.