Micro Fic: one sentence fics

microfic

For various prompts, eight fics of one sentence each.

Prompt: snow

One should be careful for what they wish, for not only did the child have skin white as snow but her demeanour was icy, as bereft of compassion as the cold winter winds.

Prompt: countdown

With a villainous laugh, he pressed the button, and began the countdown.

Prompt: firefly

Alone, staring up at the night sky, with the stars shining like a million fireflies, she finally felt at peace with the world.

Prompt: daybreak

That ghosts might indeed be real was a shock, and they stayed cuddled up under the bedcovers until the safety of daybreak.

Prompt: compass

It probably hadn’t been the best action to take, but he’d lost his moral compass a long time ago, and moving in any direction was better than standing still.

Prompt: friendship

The email reminded him he wasn’t alone, that he had people who cared, and sent a sliver of light into the darkness.

Prompt: underworld

The cave entrance was dark and ominous and he could easily imagine that the tunnel beyond led directly the underworld.

Prompt: pirates

“Everyone playing this game lies,” he mused, “plotting behind your back and seducing you with fine words – why, pirates and highway men are more honest, being direct with their demands and consequences.”

The House of Conrí

conri

Sometimes names are just names. Sometimes they are symbolic. Sometimes they’re more than that.

Thomas was thrown to the stone floor at the base of the steps. Despite his shackles he struggled to his knees, refusing to lie there complacent. He raised his bruised face defiantly and curled his lip, though that made the blood flow afresh.

“Your name?”

“Thomas Daniel,” he said proudly. He was named Thomas for his grandfather, a great hunter, and the family of Daniel had long served the rightful king. “Who are you?”

The woman sat on the throne atop the dais regarded him with brown eyes that were filled with distaste. “I am Queen Ameris, ruler of the House of Conrí.”
Continue reading The House of Conrí

Fic: A Kiss Divine

A modern Aridane/Dionysus meeting.

kiss

Ariadne leaned on the rough wooden railings, blinking back angry tears. The party continued all around her; people laughing, the clink of glasses, the ceaseless rush of the waves against the shore, a bonfire sending bright sparks into the night sky. As if nothing had happened.

How could she have been so wrong? Blinded by love? Lust? Was Tee really so charming that he’d warped her thoughts and feelings into some obsession she’d been powerless against?

Continue reading Fic: A Kiss Divine

Birdseed (exact drabble)

bsed

Birdseed

“If you’re so hard up then why do you buy birdseed?” he asks, puzzled.

“Because it’s relatively inexpensive for the benefits I get. I put a handful out every day,” she says. “And the birds come and eat it. Pigeons, blackbirds, robins, sparrows, and crows. They wait for me now, eager each morning. I get to watch them peck at the seed. I know some are nesting in the nearby bushes. It gives me a sense of communion with nature. I know it’s a small thing and hardly earth changing. But it makes me feel useful. As if I matter.”

THE ARTIST: WHAT IT IS TO LIVE WITH THE MUSE

An earlier version of this poem, about the joy and pain of creativity, how much the lack of support for one’s artistic endeavours of whatever kind can hurt, and the monetary vs intrinsic value of art, previously appeared at a personal journal as part of the importance of audience series.

THE ARTIST: What it is to live with the muse

She sculpts, removing the extraneous stone
Revealing the beauty within
It is her greatest passion to find and display every
Curve and line

She meets him at a gallery next to a coffee shop
He’s admiring Van Gough prints
She loves them too
They talk for a while, agree to meet next week

Shes says she’s a sculptor, he wants to see her work
She’s shy at first, reluctant to display her imperfect creations
But she opens the door to her studio
To her soul
Continue reading THE ARTIST: WHAT IT IS TO LIVE WITH THE MUSE