This week, another collection of my stories inspired by one-word writing prompts from Twitter.
Next week, I’ll be posting something a little different: a full-length short story, in three parts, about a pair of friends who brave a night of magic and monsters to lay the past to rest.
“Don’t hesitate, don’t vacillate, step right up! Knock down three bottles and win a prize!”
The boy was barely tall enough to see them, but his aim was true. His missile struck the operator’s eye.
In a flash, he grabbed a stuffed cow twice his size and teetered away.
“Grab the vase and ditch the giant rose.”
“Million apiece? Easiest payday ev-” He screamed as the rose chomped down on his arm.
She caught the vase. “Sorry, splitting things in two sucks. Don’t you agree?”
His eyes widened as spiked roots tightened around his belly.
Smoke seared the ruined kitchen, sparks shot from the overhead light, and bits of drywall snowed on his hair.
His husband’s jaw dropped. “What on earth happened?”
“Your instructions were too vague.”
“…You just crack the eggs and put them in the pan…”
Emma sat in the library, absorbed in a romance novel.
“What vapid fluff. Typical girl.” Ned joined her and raised his own book, A Treatise on Dialectical Sorcery.
Her eyes narrowed and she ripped off the dust jacket. “How to Woo Witches and Toadify Your Foes? Really?”
My client sat in a smoky lounge, and the barkeep wasn’t the only one pouring. Because, uh, she was poured… into her dress. A vixen, a fox-? Is that redundant?
She had legs, I guess, of above-average length.
…Look, I’m new to the biz. My self-narration needs work.
The detective studies the floor. “Blood, tooth fragments — it won’t be easy to identify the victim.”
“Sir, could it be that man glaring at you and bleeding from his mouth?”
“Unlikely, my clueless assistant.”
“And the abrasions on your knuckles, sir?”
Thanks for reading! I hope you’ll visit again next week to check out my three-part short story.