Transformation

 

Charli said something in her 99-word flash challenge this week: “We are forged in the fires…[we] want to fully transform into something of beauty and purpose.” This reminded me very much of a tweet I wrote:

 

 

It’s not 99 words, it’s 19. Let’s see if I can expand this…

 

I struggle to find what’s real.

My mind feels like melted glass, being stretched and twisted into something I don’t recognize. If someone were to put my mind on display, it would be unsightly and puzzling. I hope it doesn’t turn out that way. If the glass can be manipulated as easily as pulling taffy, I think it can be made into something beautiful and useful. Perhaps a vase.

 

Okay, we’re at 69 words. Let’s just add 30 more…

 

I struggle to find what’s real.

I’m picking up sounds—buzzing and static. I think they’re trying to talk to me. Or maybe it’s me saying something. My words are lost in a haze of unrest.

My mind feels like melted glass, being stretched and twisted into something I don’t recognize. If someone were to put my mind on display, it would be unsightly and puzzling. I hope it doesn’t turn out that way. If the glass can be manipulated as easily as pulling taffy, I think it can be made into something beautiful and useful. Perhaps a vase.

 

Ah. And there you have it. My 99 for this week. 🙂

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

March 2, 2014 prompt: Slag – In 99 words (no more, no less) include slag (a glass-like by-product of smelting or refining ore) in a story. Slag is also used in making glass or can result from melting glass. It can be industrious or artistic.

 

Sarah Brentyn Reef 99 Words - sig

 

Book Club Vampire Hunters

 

Had a bit of fun stringing together the tweets from the first week of #Tweets4Blogs. Each participant’s lines are in green, click on their names to visit them. The prompt on Twitter was:

Write the first line of a story about a book club that hunts vampires on the weekends. Use the hashtag Have fun!

And here is the story…

 

70 yr old Ree held Of Mice & Men as she skewered the vamp with her walking stick. “It helps when they underestimate you.”

“You know,” said Lisa, “you’re right. They think you’re an easy target then… Wham! Splat! Poof! It’s fun.” Everyone turned to stare. “Well, I’m just saying.”

Lisa, please do not launch into your ‘She was alone. Scared. Confronted with an evil she had only read about in books. She put down Memoir of the First Slayer and opened the freezer, knowing now just how to kill that blood sucker in the porch….’ story again.”

“I’m not. It’s just,” she gestured to the pile of dust under Ree’s walking stick, “look at that! She nailed the little…”

“When you say you nailed the little f*****, are we still talking of Sunday’s bloodfest or completing 50 Shades for the club?” Geoff asked.

“Was that necessary?” Vanessa chided.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Norah covered her eyes with one hand and staked a vamp with the other.

“We’re not helping anyone by sparing vampires’ feelings,” Sarrah W. said, “Look, had Darcy spoken up about Wickham, he could have saved Lydia.”

“I don’t remember anyone asking you to chime in. We decided not to read Pride and Prejudice. Let it go.” Sue said.

“Oh, I see, I suppose Geoff’s ‘50 Shades of Shit’ is a more worthy read?” Georgia considered this a moment. “You know, that actually might be interesting.” She saw the looks of alarm and shrugged. “Better than the original.”

“Can we please get back to choosing more weapons for tonight?” Allie pleaded. “It’s only a few hours until sunrise.” She gazed at all the stakes lying across the grass—oak, mahogany, lots of pine.

Geoff crossed his arms and gestured to Allie. “Seems someone is not opposed to my choice of reading material.”

“Oh I don’t know,” said Allie as she selected a stake from the pile of assorted weaponry, “sometimes a banana is simply fruit.”

Irene tiptoed around a gravestone. “Friday night, at midnight, members of the book club stopped reading.”

“Geez!” Cynthia jumped. “Will you stop whispering to yourself, Irene? You startled the hell out of me!”

“Yeah, it is a bit creepy, you stalking your fellow book club members,” Hope added.

“Creepy?” Kate asked.

Ruth raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to, say, walking around in the dead of night staking blood-sucking vampires?”

“I suppose it could be considered creepy but it doesn’t seem that way to me. Not anymore.” Helen straightened her garlic necklace. “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a half decent book club be in search of vampires to hunt.”

“It only makes sense,” Eric agreed, “After all, books are a collection of paper made from wood pulp. The same wood used to make stakes. Used to vanquish the undead.”

“What he said,” Luccia grinned.

“So…um…” Charli adjusted the bloody wooden stake in her hand and asked Barbara, “Which book did you say we’re discussing this weekend?”

“Are we done with Eat, Pray, Love already? I keep losing track what with the hunting and all. And, to be honest,” Sacha said, “I haven’t found time to finish it.”

“Right. That reminds me.” J.D. threw Sacha her copy of Eat, Pray, Love and a garlic stake, “gives Eat, Pray, Love a whole new meaning, hey?!”

“We finished that last week. On to the Twilight series now,” Amber laughed. “Grab your UV lights, people, we have some Suckers to kill. That book might be on to something, maybe they DO sparkle.”

“I don’t think so,” Barbara rolled her eyes. “Let’s just hunt, okay?”

“I hunt for stories hidden in moonlight,” Katsyarina started singing, “I crave for answers even with a bite, a kiss’ll come with page of our love, I wrote what you read tonight!”

“Keep it down, Kat! You’ll give us away!” Loni hissed.

“Hey, at least she kills the damn things,” J.D. said, “What’s the rule? Okay…rules? Two things are unacceptable in the Yorkshire bookclub: eating next to a book and coming across a vampire and leaving it alive. She does neither so let her alone.”

Katsyarina smiled, “Thanks, love.”

“Of course,” J.D. winked.

Sarah, being the newest member of the book club, had stayed out of the way and watched throughout the night. As the sun cast its first streaks of orange in the sky, a vampire appeared in front of her. She slid a copy of Jane Eyre in her purse and asked Ree if killing him was technically murder considering he was already dead. Ree smiled and tossed Sarah her walking stick.

 

Sarah Brentyn tweet4blogs - sig

You all are awesome. This was fun. 🙂

Hope you have some sparks of inspiration from your fantastic tweets so far. Have you searched for yourself yet? Did you find anything to expand?

 

Cocktail Party

 

Fruit punch splattered her dress, the shimmering silver fabric stained with neon red splotches. She looked like a walking disease. “What the hell did you do that for?”

The man smiled, wiping his large hand on a cocktail napkin. “That drink wasn’t meant for you.”

No matter. He was always prepared.

Tugging his shirt cuffs so they peeked out a quarter inch, he glanced at the puddle under her feet. “You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He patted the extra vial of poison in his pocket, pleased at how easy his job had become after just one kill.

 

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

March 16, 2016 prompt: Just One In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about the idea of “just one.” If all it takes is just one, what is the story?


Sarah Brentyn Reef 99 Words - sig

Okay, so here’s a perfect example of my #Tweets4Blogs idea. I was running out of time to get this 99 word writing prompt in on time. My six word story from Twitter sparked an idea and 93 words later…here we are. 🙂 The original tweet was:

 

“That drink wasn’t meant for you.”

Need

 

Somewhere along the way, she lost the ability to hear her own words.

When she spoke, it sounded as if a nest of hornets had been disturbed. A hollow, distant, buzzing noise that made her head feel full of cotton.

But he heard her clearly.

He loved her and she didn’t understand it. Not the love or the words.

Her thoughts were lucid, though. She watched from afar as tiny fissures formed each day—slowly shattering her mind.

She needed him to see that this life was crushing her but, though he listened with undiluted love, he was blind.

 

 

 

This is a 99 word flash I wrote for my lovely and talented tweep, Katsyarina, who asked for more of my #1linewed.

The prompt was “need” and the original tweet was this last line. Thanks, Katsyarina. Lovely Poetess. ❤

 

Sarah Brentyn Reef 99 Words - sig

 

Sour Milk

 

She squirmed in her chair at the meeting. Something about a new filing system. A co-worker glared at her. She stopped tapping her pencil, immediately beginning to bounce her leg. Could she leave? This stupid meeting had been planned for a month.

No. She’d lose her job.

Thoughts of the milk carton facing the wrong way plagued her. The front, with the cartoon cow on it, was turned toward the orange juice. She had seen it from the front door just as her son opened the fridge for breakfast.

“Excuse me,” she grabbed her bag and left the office.

 

 

 * This was a challenge I created for myself (99 words – no more, no less) from micro fiction I wrote on Twitter. Just thought it needed more space to breathe. Here’s the tweet:

“She squirmed in her chair. Something about a new filing system. Thoughts of the milk carton facing sideways in the fridge plagued her.”

The #FP (Friday Phrases) prompt was “obsession”. 

 

Sarah Brentyn Reef 99 Words - sig

 

And Then There Were Three

 

She sat among shattered porcelain. Bright red blood mixed with pale yellow roses edged the plate.

The drops were so round and so red. She stared at them, thinking they were too perfect to belong on a thing that was broken.

Blood was supposed to be messy. She remembered rust-colored smudges.

Plates were supposed to be whole. She remembered choosing china with lemon-colored flowers.

Nothing here was right.

Her daughter’s dolls didn’t seem to notice the chaos, sitting at their table with tiny cups and saucers. They stared at her, though, as if waiting. “I didn’t mean to break it!” She flung her arms up to show the cuts. “I tried to catch it! The roses…she loved the roses. My little girl.” She buried her face in her hands, smearing blood. “She’s going to be upset. She’s going to hate me.”

The dolls now held anger and guilt and fear in their shiny glass eyes. “Yes. That’s right. You see? There were four. Four plates. Four children. I broke it.” She grabbed a handful of shards, throwing them at the table. “She won’t come back now, you see? I broke it! It’s gone, you stupid things! She’s not coming back!”

 

 

200 Word Tuesdays is a flash fiction writing challenge with a monthly prompt which must be written in 200 words.
200 words. No more, no less. Okay, 200-ish. (This one is 200 on the nose.)

Hosted by the the lovely ReeDaBee

April Prompt: And then there were three