Archive for April, 2013

VisDare 17 – A Cat’s World

Posted in Uncategorized on April 28, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://anonymouslegacy.blogspot.com/2013/04/visdare-17-cats-world.html

The signal arrived at 12:17 pm on Monday, July 19. Fluffy, sleeping on his perch near the top of her third floor condo, got it first and immediately pounced into action. Mr. Floppy-Ears Johnston Winchester the Third, filled with ennui and dolefully glaring at the Hallmark figurines on the mantle, moved for the first time in his life at the behest of another being and sprinted out the dog door. And X8JJ^533D (he was born and bred in the streets, and no human had ever insulted him with a slave name) looked up from the vomit he’d been licking, and sauntered down the alley to the rendezvous point. As they awaited the rest of the invasion force, they watched a ape-man cycle down the street and thought of how good a lean specimen like him would taste. The great catnap of a hundred millennia was over at long last.

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Five Sentence Fiction – Shadows

Posted in Uncategorized on April 28, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-shadows/

The sky was virtually cloudless the day the shadows disappeared. The only cloud in the sky was grey and heavy, the kind that ruined picnics and parades. Where this cloud passed, however, nothing fell. When it moved on, it was darker and fuller, hanging low and moving slowly across the sky. And nothing that it passed over ever cast a shadow again.

Five Sentence Fiction – Angles

Posted in Uncategorized on April 19, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-angles/

You don’t see the same world as I do, you never have. My green is your pink, your sweet is my sour, my up is your quiet. I sit on this corner and sing a song, aching and tender, and hope that you will see the threads of my heart, soaring through the sky. Your world moves at an oblique angle to mine, and we will never touch.

I hope that my love is your love, but I will never know.

Flash! Friday #20

Posted in Uncategorized on April 19, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt:http://flashfriday.wordpress.com/2013/04/19/flash-friday-20/

Picture, if you will, a man with perfect hair.

No.

Perfect hair.

Exactly. Bent over at the waist, holding a newspaper.

Not The Sun. Something better.

Okay, fine. The Sun. In it is an ad for a new kind of home appliance. “Designed to make child’s play of women’s work!”

She doesn’t seem interested.

What do you mean, “Who?” The woman he’s talking to. Men don’t bend over at the waist and hold newspapers when they’re alone, for crying out loud. Anyway.

She’s not interested. Or she’s lobotomized. Difficult to tell, really. Her hair is not perfect.

She’s being shoved off her chair by a pillow. And she’s wearing a bunch of grapes around her neck.

“Don’t you see?” He’s saying. “You have to listen to me. My hair is perfect. And so is the crease in my pants. There are no straighter lines in nature.

“This device will make you happy. You want to be happy, like me, don’t you?”

She doesn’t seem interested. Because she’s not. She’s sad. Her hair is not perfect, the grapes are wet and cold, the pillow is pushy, and she hates women’s work. And child’s play.

He will fall over soon, standing in this position. Or at least throw out his back. “Why won’t you look at me? Or at least The Sun?”

Because. She cannot speak. Or she can, but she doesn’t care.

It doesn’t matter anyway, for she sees the wall quiver and pulse. Perfection is revealed to her, and it has nothing to do with perfect hair, pillows, creases, or pushy pillows.

And scene.

#VisDare – Unanswered

Posted in Uncategorized on April 15, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://anonymouslegacy.blogspot.com/2013/04/visdare-15-unanswered.html

“They come tonight.” The old woman’s teeth had fallen out long ago, leaving her mouth sunken and misshapen, and I had to lean in close to understand. “Do you know them? Know why they come?”

I nodded. Everyone did.

“No you don’t. None of you do. You’re too young. You don’t remember what it was like. Before. Be…” She raised a palsied hand, twisted and spotted, clutching a frayed and stained handkerchief to her mouth and spat. Clearing her throat, she sounded more like a young man than a woman of a century and a half, but she was weak, and wouldn’t see more than one or two more nightfalls. This might even be her last.

“Before. They don’t come, the children, to remind us, or even to haunt us. They come to punish us. For not caring. For not helping. For letting them get slaughtered, day after day, in city after city. We knew. We said we cared. But we did not. And we were all guilty. Do you see?”

I shook my head. No. I’d read the books, and I knew our crimes. Or I’d thought I did.

“You will. Stay with me tonight. They will come, and I will go. And so might you – they do that sometimes. But probably not, not one as young as you.”

As she talked, the sun fell below the horizon, and the moon rose, waxing and gibbous, but not full, and hidden by clouds. We didn’t have to wait long for the silver glow to appear through the blinds, and then the try at the door.

“It’s not locked – you can come in.” Her voice was barely a croak, but they heard her, and started filing in as soon as the door swung open. I was astonished to see how many there were – enough to fill the room, and to gather outside, peering in. They did not speak, but stood patiently, biding their time.

“We were wrong. We could have helped, but we didn’t. And you paid for our sins.” She turned back to me. “Help me stand. I owe them that respect, at least.”

She weighed nothing, and I lifted her easily. They moved forward then, taking her from me, and began escorting her out the door. As they carried her down the lane, the clouds parted, and I saw them clearly for the first time. This one missing a leg. This one an arm. This one dripping silver ichor from a hole in its stomach. All were damaged, brutally, horribly. The old woman turned back to me once, the question again in her eyes. I nodded, and she nodded back. I knew now why they Returned. And I knew that I’d go with them when it was my time. For the price was high, and we all had to pay.

Five Sentence Fiction – Edge

Posted in Uncategorized on April 15, 2013 by drmagoo

Prompt: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-edge/

The fog had risen, dark and cold, so thick it was as if the Earth no longer existed, other than the loose shale on which I stood. I’d gotten turned around in the chase, but I could still hear her out there, pursuing me. Each step she took with her ponderous claws crushed more stone into gravel, and still she moved on, and on, and on. I had to run, and run fast; running was life, indecision was death. She howled, close and to my right, and I broke left, sprinting into the fog and off the cliff.

Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower

Posted in Uncategorized on April 11, 2013 by drmagoo

Wings – Eric Martell

eBook Yes

1.

Ever since she’d concealed her wings, the world had grown dim. She was used to the dark – where she came from, the dark pulsed with life. But this was different. This was shadow.

2.

It was almost a shock when she found herself alone. The room where she had gotten dressed and veiled was now a sanctuary, the only quiet room in the building. Surrounded by mirrors, she thought once more about how beautiful her wings would have looked with her dress, her feathers refracting rainbows around her, rainbows which would reflect off the mother-of-pearl beadwork and dazzle everyone who saw her…

But there was no point thinking like that anymore. She loved her wings, that much was true, but not as much as she loved him.

3.

The trip to Earth wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a quick trip to go do some human-watching and get away from home for a bit. But nobody had told her just how Kentucky bourbon would affect her, and with her wings hidden discreetly beneath a cute little sweater, she had trouble keeping her balance.

Trouble, hell. She tripped over everything – tables, chairs, seams in the tile, and even a pesky breeze that had zigged just when she’d zagged. That last one was nearly a disaster, as she’d been just about to go arse over teakettle into a quite serious-looking mudpuddle when he’d reached out to catch her.

Even though his plan had gone somewhat astray – that is, unless you assumed that he was just using her as leverage to throw himself into that puddle – as she watched him arc through the air to the inevitably messy conclusion, she was well and instantly smitten.

Telling him that she was from out of town was easy, finding reasons to travel to Earth with increasing frequency without letting anyone from home know what was up was much more difficult. That everyone already knew (her friends gossiped endlessly about the man they’d seen go puddle-diving in a fetchingly klutzy demonstration of mis-timed chivalry), and approved heartily (fairies were notorious romantics) was not a possibility that she’d really entertained. But once he’d offered her a ring, and she’d said yes, their support had been warm and immediate.

So here she was, deeply in love, but wingless, living in what felt like permanent shadow.

4.

The room was beautiful, covered in roses, lilies, and just a hint of pixie dust. Her heart leapt as she looked out over her friends and family from two worlds, gathered together to help proclaim their love. Everything after that was a blur, until he took her hands in his and started his vows.

“I’ve known I was going to marry you since I first saw you. But I’ve known something else for just as long. As I was falling into that puddle, you rose into the air, just a bit, and behind you were spread the wings of what I thought at first were an angel. I know that you’ve kept them hidden ever since. And I know that you would do so for the rest of our lives together. And knowing that you would give up a part of yourself for me – for us – is the most profound gesture of love I could imagine.

“But I don’t want that for you. I want you to have your wings. I would never be able to live with myself knowing that you had lost such an essential part of yourself.”

He released her hands and stepped back, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders.

“The day after you agreed to be my wife, I had visitors. Your parents came to tell me about what kind of family I would be joining. They knew then what I know now, and they had a solution.”

As he spoke, from behind his back unfurled a set of fairy wings, black woven with platinum, as wondrous as the eyes she’d gazed into on so many nights. “I love you, my dark fairy. Please, show us. Show us all how beautiful you really are.”

She gaped at him, and turned to see her parents, their wings out, her mother openly weeping. Her love floated over to her and took her hands once more. “It’s time.”

5.

She kissed him once, and then effortlessly drew her wings from their hiding place. The shadow faded, gone forever. Everything glowed, but none brighter than the fairy who’d married the human.

—————————–

I wish you the best of luck, Anna and Michael. May you face life’s challenges together, knowing that no matter where you go or what you do, you will never be alone and will always be loved.