As a writer, creativity is important to me. But, far too often, the line between madness and genius is extremely thin. Sometimes, I wonder if that line actually exists. Either way, almost every creative genius meets opposition from somewhere, some sort of experience where somebody doesn’t see that genius within the madness until later. That was the inspiration for this story…in addition to this week image for the wonderful Friday Fictioneers, of course. Enjoy!
Oh, what a picture for my thirteenth Fictioneers story! So wonderfully creepy. It had so many different stories lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to locate them and weave the proper words to put them into motion. So, I chose a story about a girl who appreciates a rainy day as much as I do, and is no stranger to putting potential events into motion. And, as usual, in 100 words exactly. Enjoy!
I’ve always loved rainy days. While most people run indoors, away from the gloom, I walk the deserted streets, taking it all in. To me, rainy days always seem so exciting, so charged, so full of potential! Almost as if the dead could come back to life.
Hearing footsteps behind me, I smile and turn around. My friend James is walking down the street, from the cold home he had obtained last winter. I take his rough hand in mine, and now neither of us feels alone. At least, until the rain stops and my spell once again wears off.
I never thought I’d see the day, but I finally managed to come up with something happy for Friday Fictioneers! And, in light of that, I wrote about two young people finding something that even today’s adventurers are trying to find, though with much lower stakes. While attempting to not give it way, I thought of the last line for this story the moment I saw this weeks picture. And, I have the basic setting in my mind, since the image in my mind could only occur in this sort of world. The challenge, however, was making them believable and interesting in only a hundred words. I’ll let you be the judge of whether I pass or fail.
Also, I hope the ‘characters with bad grammar’ thing isn’t too annoying. As an excuse that only a fellow writer can understand, they refused to talk any other way, no matter how much I asked them to at least try to enunciate better.
Dreamers of the Desert
“I’s just a myth.” Toby insisted. “Like forests. Jus’ a story the ‘dults made up.”
“Me uncle says it exists.” I insisted. “Said he found it on the way ta the Great Pond. Only a day’s walk, he says.”
“Yer uncle’s a liar! Ain’t nothin’ in the Desert. We gonna die out here, lookin’ fer fairy tales.”
“Not much further…” I whispered, as we rounded some more dunes.
Then, I stopped. Before us stood crumbling spindles and the remains of villas. It must have been beautiful, when it was inhabited. Even my partner paused.
“Welcome to Atlantis, Toby.” I whispered.
Hello, fellow Fictioneers and random bystanders alike! And Happy New Year. I thought this as good a time as any to get my blog going again, as well as get back into the swing of doing Friday Fictioneers! I must apologize that my story isn’t very happy, as is my style. It’s not exactly sad, either. It’s more just life. It has a slight language warning, but I don’t think it’s too bad. Just one word that I’m sure most of us hear once, maybe twice a day, at least. And, as always, it’s 100 words on the dot. I hope you enjoy it!
Some people might be wondering why I’m posting two stories, two days in a row, in the same week. There’s an interesting behind it, actually. You might have noticed I posted a day later than usual this week. That is because I’ve gone to my aunt’s house to visit with relatives the past two nights as soon as I got home from work. So, I didn’t have my computer with me Wednesday night to check the blog and write my story. I tried to, though. Unfortunatly, my Google search for Rochelle’s blog gave me an old post instead of this weeks, so I didn’t realize until after I had written my story for this week that the picture was from back in November. But, the story was written, and I liked it, so I wanted to post it anyway. Luckily, this happened the same week as my 10th story, so I decided to use it as an impromptu celebration
I don’t have much of a intro for this week’s story. But, I am pleased to announce that today is my 10th Friday Fictioneers! I admit, it hasn’t been ten consecutive weeks, but it was none the less ten weeks total of stories in exactly 100 words. It has been great, and I hope to be with you all for many weeks to come. 🙂
I’m not sure what to say about my Friday Fictioneers story this week, exactly. It’s a weird one, though. That much I can be sure of. I can also say that I was slightly amused by the fact it was a picture of a goat. I hope you enjoy it. 🙂
A Goat in the Graveyard
“Why is that goat in the graveyard, Mama?”
“It is Mr. Carson’s goat, dear. He is always there.”
“But why, Mama?”
”Who is Mr. Carson, Mama?”
“He was the local grocer.”
“Does he butcher the meat himself?”
“No. He never got along with the butcher, so he stopped selling and eating his meat”
“Then why does he have a goat?”
“He stole it when it was a baby, and it always came back to him afterwards.”
“Why did he steal it?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
“And why did it come back to him?
“He was thankful.”