Disintegration

 

The mortals’ reverence faded.

They grew distracted and self-absorbed, no longer worshiping The Goddess.

Her temple fell into ruin. Crumbled bits of once-sacred stone became debris scattered among tall grass. Moss and ivy clung to marble.

She watched this disintegration as it mirrored that of civilization.

Humanity split apart like a plank of weathered wood, discarding kindness and embracing hate.

She felt no pity or sorrow but, instead, disappointment and disgust. They were a plague.

Silent many years, The Goddess waited, fury rising, until she stood and filled the heavens with her rage, unleashing a storm to end them.

 

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

July 13, 2016 prompt: Anger – In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story using the emotion of anger. 

 

The Fair Feline

 

He whipped a rock across the pond. “Nice! Seven skips.”

I grabbed his arm, “Let’s go. We’ve disturbed them.”

“The fish?” He laughed.

I glared. “The fae.”

He eyed my fingers, tightening around his wrist. “Who cares?”

“I do. Which is why you’re still alive.”

“I don’t think so, sis.” He smiled and pointed to a cat perched on some driftwood, tail curled around its feet.

The cat yawned, licked its paw, and said, “Fae know what a cat sith can do, child.” It nodded to me. “Make no mistake, I am the reason you both are still alive.”

 

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

July 6, 2016 prompt: Cat – In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a cat. It can be a cute and adorable kitten or it can be mean old tom that swipes a claw at unsuspecting humans. What cat comes to mind and how does it spark a story?

 

This is what I tapped out on my phone and had to edit down to 99 words. This week, for some reason, it wasn’t easy and I’m not sure I pulled it off for the 99 word challenge.

 

He whipped a flat rock across the pond. “Whoa. Nice! Seven skips. Did you see that?”

I grabbed his arm, “Let’s go. We’ve disturbed them.”

“The fish?” He laughed.

I glared. “The fae.”

He flicked his eyes to my fingers, tightening around his wrist. “Take it easy. You’ve never cared before.”

I watched the water ripple, a dark form underneath swimming closer to the shore. To us. “I’ve always cared. Which is why you’re still alive.” I let go of his arm. “Just…trust me.”

He grabbed another rock. “I don’t think so, sis,” he aimed at the surface.

“After all these years. After…everything. You don’t believe in them?”

“I didn’t say that,” he smiled and pointed to a cat perched on some driftwood, tail curled around its feet.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me you could see them! I’ve felt like a freak all these years!” I smacked him on the head.

The cat yawned, licked its paw, and said, “He cannot see them. I have made myself visible to him. Now. Are you two quite done? While this human drivel is fascinating, I do have other things to attend to.”

I turned on the cat. “Like those?” I flung my hand toward the water, where spindly insect creatures the size of dogs were beginning to emerge.

“Let them come. Let them see what a cat sith can do.” It nodded to me, “And make no mistake, child, I am the reason you are both still alive.”

 

The Coat

 

He stepped through the front door, taking care to bang his sneakers on the tiles to be heard above the TV. He knew the police had phoned his dad about the mugging.

It’s not like he expected special treatment or anything, he knew better than that, but he hoped anyway.

Maybe one of those quick, awkward hugs people give like they’re touching a snake. One of those would be nice.

He tensed as his father’s boots sounded in the hallway, cringed as they got closer. He waited.

His father stopped a few feet away, staring, eyes taking in the ripped clothing and black eye. His arms reached out, touching the torn, blood-stained coat. “No wonder they didn’t take this thing,” he laughed. “Hope you have enough money to pay for a new jacket,” he walked back to the couch.

 

 

This is part of a weekly writing prompt hosted by Sacha Black.

Writespiration #91 Prompt: The hug you’ve always wanted

 

 

Riding Hood’s Grandmother Reveals Identity as Bestselling Author

 

 

Years after the alleged attack on Red Riding Hood’s grandmother, Hazel, the now legendary grandma reveals her identity as bestselling author, Kale E. Pepper.

“First,” Hazel said, “let’s get this out of the way as I know you’re going to ask. The wolf never ate anyone. In fact, he was quite the gentleman. He had lost his way and needed directions to the barber shop. Quite the hairy beast, you know. Red sent him to the local ice cream parlor. That girl couldn’t find her way out of a cardboard box.”

The wolf then ended up at Hazel’s house after being assaulted by a group of school children who threw ice cream cones and popsicles at the poor beast. When asked if she still keeps in touch with the wolf, Hazel answered, “I don’t think he’s around here anymore.”

“But this,” she walked into her kitchen, “is why I called you.”

After brushing some fur off her counter, she showed us a collection of bestselling cookbooks such as Guide to Grilling Wild Game and Savory Large Game: Salads and Side Dishes which she wrote under her pseudonym. “They are selling very well.”

Indeed they are. Her informative new how-to guide, Find it Fresh, Fry it Up, just hit #2 on the New York Times bestseller list.

“This one,” she picked up her book entitled Look What’s Coming to Dinner “has been in the top ten for three months,” she said proudly. “Fresh ingredients. That’s the key.”

We declined Hazel’s invitation to stay for supper.