Moxie Monday: Shine Bright
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [Disobedience]
[This week's Fiction Friday was my submission for Scene Stealers #22. Scene Stealers is a fun writing prompt from Write to Done where they provide the first two sentences and limit your word count to 350. Enjoy!]
It was pitch dark outside, and driving at night made me nervous, but I picked up the car keys anyway. I opened the door – and stepped into blinding sunshine.
After almost getting caught last time, Aunt Flora made me promise to never use my powers again. But, what choice did I have now that she was in danger? Especially when my using them was what put her there.
I shrugged at the neighbors pouring out of their homes as if I were just as confused as they were. Hands used as visors, they craned their necks upward as if they’d be able to see why the sun was in its noon time position at 9 o’clock at night.
With no time to dwell, I jumped into Flora’s car and turned the key. Resting my hands on the steering wheel, I closed my eyes. My thoughts zigzagged at the speed of light down a straightaway anchored with flashes of color whizzing by on either side.
As the vision slowed, the edges took shape. The dock. A warehouse. Flora was tied to a chair and gagged. Her eyes focused straight ahead, unblinking. She was trying to tell me something, but I was too far away to hear.
Throwing the car into reverse, I peeled out of the driveway. As I drew closer to the docks I could feel Flora in my head. The words weren’t clear, but her feelings were. She was worried.
I eased the car to a stop on the outskirts of the mammoth warehouses lining the water. Opening the door, my mind swirled at a dizzying pace.
It’s a trap mija. Do not try to save me. It’s a trap, mija. Do not try to save me…
Flora! Her voice was such a welcome relief despite her words.
Fortunately for her, I was known to be stubborn. Unfortunately, for her captors, there wasn’t a trap built stronger than the bond of family. I made my way toward her prison, preparing myself for the lecture Aunt Flora was sure to give me for disobeying her…again.
Moxie Monday: Find Your Amazing
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [A Life Extraordinary]
A calm breeze shakes the long blades of grass to life. They tickle my cheek as I stare up at the marshmallowy cloud looming overhead. Impossibly out of reach, I wonder what my life must look like from up there.
Boring, I decide. Extremely boring.
Looking over at Will—his arms clasped behind his head and eyes closed—I know he never thinks such things. He’s content to just lie here, basking under the sun, on this unseasonably hot spring day. Right now, he’s happy here. Doing this. Nothing more, nothing less.
Sometimes I envy him.
Closing my eyes I become weightless. Air quickly fills the space between my body and the lush field of green as I ascend. A coolness washes over me as I enter the wispy folds of the cloud. Tiny beads of icy moisture cling to my skin, but as I break through to the other side, heated rays from the sun evaporate each one.
Perched atop the cloud, I feel free. So free that I’m hesitant to peek over the side. To witness a life less fantastical than this very moment. But, curiosity wins out and I do.
Expecting to see a woman muddling her way through a humdrum life, destined to have a humdrum future, I am taken aback by what plays out before me. Every event of my life, leading to this moment, is projected in flashes. Suddenly, I am glowing. Radiating from the choices I’ve made and the work I’ve put in to get me here.
I see my future—the extraordinary things to come—and feel foolish for ever doubting my life was less than amazing. From here I can see how capable I am. How big my heart is. How incredibly lucky I am to be me.
I see my family, my friends—my Will.
Despite the distance, we’re clear as day. Two people in a field of many who all just seem to fade away. I am overwhelmed by how gently and trustingly he places his heart in my hand.
Opening my eyes, I am back on the ground. Back to my life. I reach over to Will, weaving my fingers through his. Right now, I am happy here. Doing this. Nothing more, nothing less.
Moxie Monday: Every Time
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [Sterling Farms]
A couple of weeks ago I posted a story about a writer's creepy visit to a graveyard. It was based on a prompt by Scene Stealers, but I'd exceeded the word count and never submitted it. Boo! Well, I decided to take another stab at it and this piece of flash comes in at 350 words on the dot.
[This week's Fiction Friday is my submission for Scene Stealers #21. Scene Stealers is a fun writing prompt from Write to Done where they provide the first two--or in this case three--sentences and limit your word count to 350. Enjoy!]
She looked up from her writing. Was that a creak? But she'd oiled the hinges just yesterday.
Another creak. She felt her muscles tighten. Her ears perked, straining for a clue.
This is why a city girl shouldn't visit the country, she thought.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Goosebumps stood her hairs on end and her breathing grew shallow. She looked down at her fingers, frozen over the keyboard, and realized they were shaking.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Closing her eyes, she tried to fold into herself, but knew she had to get in control of the situation. She slowly made her way toward the vicinity of the tapping. Her ear touched the wall and she was startled by its iciness. Regardless, she pressed it tighter and listened. She didn't have to wait long.
The sound of clawing screamed in her ear from the other side. Long, deliberate strokes escalating to desperate scrapes. She couldn't breathe as the fear sat heavily on her chest.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound echoed and amplified in her ear. She shot from the wall. Grabbing her laptop, she shoved it into its case. As she was about to gather the rest of her things:
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Racing out of the house and into the car, she drove blindly until she came across a hotel. Although it was thirty minutes away, it still didn't feel far enough. Settled in, she opened her laptop, launching the search engine.
"Sterling Farms, Middleburg VA"
She read article after article about how, in 1992, during renovations, a body had been found buried within a bedroom wall of the farmhouse. They'd determined the body to be that of Margaret Sterling, who had gone missing in 1832. Forensic evidence proved she'd been buried alive. Evidence such as scratch marks and divots dug out with her finger.
An hour later, she was still in front of the computer, knees pulled up to her chin as she hugged herself tightly. Wide, unblinking eyes sat over her tear stained cheeks. She would never return to that house again. Not when she knew that Margaret was still there.
Moxie Monday: I Dare You
Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!
Fiction Friday: [Firefly]
Fireflies flash and dim in the darkness. I look over at her, wondering how long it’s been since she’s blinked. Her eyes sparkle with wonder and awe, her mouth is slightly agape. I feel the corners of my own mouth curl as I watch her tiny hands reach toward the sky—curling and straightening her fingers—as if to beckon them.
She wiggles her toes over the edge of the patio before stepping into the dewy grass. Her chubby little arms hang in the air as she ventures deeper into the backyard. Her giggles trail behind her like the sweetest music I’ve ever heard. When she turns to look back at me, her smile glows brightly against the inky sky.
The string around my heart—the one that connects us—begins to pull as she nears the shadows at the edge of the yard. I watch as they hug the baby fat on her legs. As they slowly spread around her tiny body. Then, one last step. She’s gone. Completely engulfed in the darkness.
Where the light keeps me sane, the dark illuminates the ache.
I fight the urge to race toward the fence line. To seek her out in the shadows. I know she’s not there. That she never was...yet she always will be.
Every night. Flashes of memory are followed by a hollow and I long for the next spark. A twinkling in the distance shakes me from my thoughts and I know it’s her. My own, beautiful little firefly.
