Tag Archives: Fiction

Haven – #writephoto

january-hol-2016-004-2

Photo by Sue Vincent

Another perfect day, one of the few days when I am spared slave labor in the Uranium mines on Pluto, and it was ruined.

“Are you just going to waste your entire day rotting your brain on Saturday morning cartoons?” Queen Shimá asked.  She stood in the portal, her hands on her hips.  “You need to do something, not just sit like a plotted plant.”

“But Mom,” I said, “’Creepy Critter’s Criminal Capers’ is my favorite!”

“It’s a sunny day out there. Go play outside.”

“It must be fifty below.  I’ll freeze my boy parts off.”

“Don’t you talk to me like that, young man.”

“But Mom!”

“Aren’t any of your friends around?” Continue reading

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Eye – #writephoto

eye

Photo by Sue Vincent

“Why do I feel like I’m being watched?” Gordon asked.

The question was meant to be rhetorical, but Bud pointed across the still water and said, “There.”

“What?” Gordon tried to follow Bud’s finger.  All he saw was an old stone bridge.

“Can’t you see it?” Bud asked.  “The reflection of the arches looks like a set of eyes watching us.  You see it in your peripheral vision and…” He shrugged.

Gordon shook his head and got back to work.  Bud was a strange one, a bit of an anomaly.  Gordon smiled at himself.  “Anomaly” was just the type of word Bud would use.

Bud left as Gordon continued to dig.  Gordon knew what Bud was doing, so didn’t think anything of it.  This was a routine they’d done a thousand times before. Continue reading

Vultures…

Turkey Vulture

“Maybe if I went into Boy Scouts as a kid,” Dave thought.

He forced himself to take a few more steps into the cool woods. The hot sun over the little meadow had made him disoriented.  He tried to spit the taste of vomit out of his mouth, but there was only foam on his lips.

He had found a plant that smelled delicious.  Or he thought it did, but after days without food, perhaps anything would have smelled good.  He had no idea what was good or safe, but he had to eat something.

His stomach had rejected it almost immediately, leaving him even more hungry than before.  Even though he had emptied what little was in his stomach almost an hour ago, he still felt nauseous and dizzy. Continue reading

The Further Adventures of Authorman!

Mild mannered Trent McDonald hears a scream in the night!  Well, it is most likely only in his imagination.  There was a witness to the crime that he is reading about, but he didn’t mention anything about screaming.  Ah-hm, back to the story then.  A devious crime has been committed!  The calmness of Anytown is broken by the (imagined) late night screams. (The article said the crime took place at noon, but…)

Mild Mannered Trent knows something must be done!

Speeding to his computer, which actually he had been at for the last few hours, reading social media and scanning the news, including the article about the crime, he waves his arm and is suddenly wearing a virtual costume.

Look, it’s Authorman! Continue reading

Tower – #photowrite

up-north-060

Photo by Sue Vincent

Note – this is part of the story, Towards the Light.  Click here for previous.  Go to the Table of Contents. Or start at the beginning: (click here for part 1 – The Tunnel)

— —

My head began to clear and I realized that we were in a small stone chamber.  With the view I had from the only window, we were in an upper floor of the building, which was at the top of a hill.

“Where are we?” I asked.

Whindel stopped glaring at Rawcliph and said, “We are in the Sorcerer’s Tower, the very heart of the land of Wizards.  This is the most sacred spot for my race.”

“As such,” Rawcliph said, “it is our Hall of Justice for the largest crimes against our race.  And Whindel, none have commit a crime as great as the one you have suggested.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.  “We are planning on taking Glumoric out of the picture so he can’t just come back, as he recently did.  This is the only way to heal Blavour.”

“I know all of that,” Rawcliph said.  “The problem is, you plan on sending him to the Void.  There is no higher treason to the Wizards.” Continue reading

Glade – #photowrite

Photo by Sue Vincent

Note – this is part of the story, Towards the Light.  Click here for previous.  Go to the Table of Contents. Or start at the beginning: (click here for part 1 – The Tunnel)

— —

“We need to plan,” I said.

‘What?” Whindel asked.  He shook his head and appeared to have just woken from a dream.

“We need to plan.  You know, you asked about the, you know what…”

“Plan?  Maybe, but first we need to leave,” the wizard said.

We stepped out into a meadow.

“I thought we moved?  Why are we in the same place?” I asked.

“You did move, but you took your surrounds with you.”  The wizard didn’t look back at me, but set a quick pace towards the far trees.

“Seems awfully conspicuous to drop a forest and meadow next to the enemy’s stronghold, if you ask me,” I said.  I felt uneasy, and the fact that the trees appeared to be racing towards us at a much faster pace than we were walking contributed to this feeling.  The meadow had shrunk to a small glade and continued to shrink.

“It was, for a moment, to those looking for it,” the wizard said.  “But soon it will no longer be a problem.  Now hush.”

I heard a crash and looked over my shoulder.  There was no sight of meadow or cottage.  We were in a deep dark forest.  I shivered.  It wasn’t a pleasant place.  The trees were misshapen and odd shadows grabbed at us as we walked by. Continue reading

Signs – #writephoto

Photo by Sue Vincent

Note – this is part of the story, Towards the Light.  Click here for previous.  Go to the Table of Contents. Or start at the beginning: (click here for part 1 – The Tunnel)

— —

I woke from a deep and, as far as I knew, dreamless sleep.  The world began to come into focus and I jumped.

I was looking into a pair of eyes.  Not just any eyes, but the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.

I stood and took a step back.   The eyes belonged to a creature that was about the same size and shape as the goblins I had seen the night before, and just as sexless, but was as beautiful as they were ugly.

“And who might you be?” the person asked.

“I’m just a traveler.  I came in here to escape the dark of night,” I said.

The person looked up and said, as if to itself or to a higher being, “This is a sign.”  It looked back at me, and smiled.  I flipped a coin in my head at this point, to avoid confusion.  “She” said, “xxxxx.”

“What?” I asked.

She frowned slightly.  “xxxxx.” Continue reading

A Dare

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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

The town is full of mill buildings, some going back 200 years.  Most have been converted to modern uses, like boutique shops, apartments or small businesses.

And then there is the Sturgess factory.

I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.  The original building, a cotton mill, burned to the ground with 75 workers, all girls between 14 and 25, locked inside.  A garment factory grew on the site, but it was converted to chemicals.  It killed the river and most of the workers.

They say nobody living has been inside.

So, what do you say, join me exploring it on Halloween? Continue reading

Flow – #writephoto

river-wye-weir

Photo by Sue Vincent

Note – this is part of the story, Towards the Light.  Click here for previous.  Go to the Table of Contents. Or start at the beginning: (click here for part 1 – The Tunnel)

— —

I sat in my little prison and felt the memories flow out of me like a river.  What was happening?  I knew I had to force myself to think, to remember.

I thought back to Leo and Cate and the cave they had found.  I remembered the dwarves who only appeared to be dwarves, but were really full sized Fair Folk.  An image of the king’s lovely daughter floated above me, tugging at my heart.  What was her name?  My memory began to clear up as the words and images flowed back in.

“Alashina,” I said.  “She had lost her husband to the minions of Blavour, just I lost Lisa to the evils of…”  My eyes teared up.  The memories were too sharp!

But where was I and what was I doing there?

I was on a quest with the wizard, Whindell, to find something to stop the evil Glumoric.  In order to do that I had to find the Stone of Forgetfulness and drape it over Glumoric’s neck.  Easy-peasy.  Right? Continue reading

I’ll Be Right Back

old-shoes-cobwebs

PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

The story about Great-grandfather’s shoes again?  I guess it’s appropriate tonight, since it’s been exactly 50 years to the day.

Great-grandfather was a bit eccentric, saying “spacemen” were spying on him.  A guy from the government stopped by, and left laughing.

One evening there was a knock on the door.  When Great-grandfather answered it, a burst of light filled the house.  All that remained of Great-grandfather were his charred shoes.

Before they took Grandfather away, he constantly said the “spacemen” would be back in 50 years.

Hmm, who could be at the door at this hour?  I’ll be right back…

— — Continue reading