September 28, 2015

It's Almost Like Magic

I am sitting on the soft, cool grass.  The summer breeze makes my hair wisp around my face.  The tree trunk behind me feels rough on my back, but my silky shirt protects my skin from abrasions. The shade over me keeps me cool from the hot sun.  I stretch out my legs and wiggle my toes, finally free from my confining shoes.  This time is just for me. A time to relax after the recent hardships.

I look around and see people walking leisurely.  Most of them are in groups and they have emerged to enjoy the warm summer air, just like me.  Some giggle in gaggles, girls mostly. I can see the breeze blow through the others hair and the branches of the forest in the distance.  I notice some people are swimming in the nearby lake, enjoying the cool water in contrast with the warm air.  The openness makes me feel free.

I close my eyes and take in a large breath.  Nothing is better than the crisp scent of water and warm air blowing over flowers.  I can smell a slight trace of strawberries from the nearby gardens.  The fruit will soon be served for dinner, the first strawberries of the season.

As I tilt my head back I look up to see the sunlight trickle down through the leaves over my head.  The light dances, making life feel carefree.

I look back over towards the forest and see a flock of birds escape from the foliage and sweep towards the clear blue sky.  I can hear splashing from the people and the aquatic life in the lake. It is good to know that every life in the area is in celebration of the coming of summer.


More laughter echoes over the area.  Everyone is happy and I can’t help but crack a smile. School is almost over.  Today is a good day. 

September 27, 2015

The Stone Circle

Though many might hear of my condition and instantly assume otherwise, I have been very fortunate in my life. See, most people only find a peaceful place, a haven, a paradise, after years of searching and may only return every so often. It remains nothing but a distant daydream called upon to distract from life. But I find myself in my paradise once every twenty eight days.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Sometimes I’m not able to make it to the Woods every month; those months are painful and lonely and force me to confine myself in a sealed room… but most of the time I am able find myself there.

“Here we are!” I mumble under my breath as I pass the all too familiar broken fence to leave my car in the hidden space behind the rock wall. I lock the car, then carefully hide the keys in a small crevice to assure I can find them later on.

The sun is already setting as I start my journey beyond the fence. My well-worn trail leads me faithfully along the path I know so well, winding this way past a tree and that way around a boulder. My nose isn’t as keen as it will be, but I can still delight in the scent of pine and underbrush. Gentle fluttering leaves sing out above my head as small creatures scurry to and fro under foot. The thought of my hunt excites me, and my heart beats in anticipation.

After a while, I finally see it- the small circle marked by six small stones. This is it; I’m at my paradise, my home, my place where I can truly be me, without fear of harming anyone around me. The place where I can freely feast and indulge without the fear of guilt or the embarrassment of retribution.

I step inside my circle and breathe in the pleasant twilight air. Soft wind tickles my neck and moves my hair in a wild dance of delight. I hear silence; the most pleasant sound my ears could ever dream to hear. I see nothing around me but the grass and rocks of the clearing separating my circle from the trees and bushes that push in from all sides. The light grows dimmer and dimmer, until finally it is time.

The familiar tingle starts in my toes and I hastily kick off my shoes and carefully place each between a pair of stones; I rip off my shirt and lay it down in the next open spot, then gently fold my faded jeans in the adjacent slot. My boxers fit between two more, then suddenly eleven stones lay where six once were, and in my naked solitude I grin at the sky with the thrilling anxiety that always comes before much looked-forward-to events.

It happens slowly, then all at once. My toes grow long as my feet stretch flat. Hair springs from my ankles up toward my head as a tail appears and grows. My nails grow out into claws as I remember just at the last second to tear off my watch before risking its annihilation. I see my nose stick out more prominently in front as my teeth grow sharp and fierce. The last things to change are always my thoughts, allowing me a few seconds of blissful joy before I can only focus on one thing; the last piece of my paradise, the thing I secretly and guiltily look forward to every day between my cycles:


The horrendously warm and thrillingly disturbing taste of a fresh kill.

September 20, 2015

Round Up: Week Seventeen

Round Up: Week Seventeen


Last Week’s Prompt:
Use the last text message you received as the basis of a story. Your character receives this message, and it changes everything.


Amanda
The latest text I had received when I decided on the prompt was the middle of a conversation about Waffle Love and waffles in general, hence “Now, if it had been an actual waffle…” I decided on a story about the waffle being a breaking point in a relationship, and I wanted to explore a mother daughter relationship since it wasn’t something I had written before. It is for the reader to decide who was really in the wrong in this relationship- was Jamie truly a careless mother who couldn’t even be bothered to make actual waffles, reminding Carmen of the reasons she left? Or was Carmen a thankless daughter who ruthlessly broke her mother’s heart twice?


Side note: It is scientifically proven that waffles taste better if you make them at midnight. Keep that in mind, dear readers.


MY VOTE: Kylie


Korrin
The only text’s I ever get are apparently from Amanda and Kylie so it was a week before anyone else texted me.  Then it was just my sister trying to spend time with me Labor Day weekend. She is pregnant and likes weird things, so farmers market.  
If you have ever been to one, they ain’t that exciting.  Try writing about one and making it exciting, because it’s kinda impossible.
But I think this is a good lesson.  Writers have to write a lot of things because within that mass there will be really bad stories and things that the author really dislikes.
This one is mine.


MY VOTE: Kylie


Kylie
Not having wifi is literally the worst thing of all time. That, and lack of time.

This story was brought to you courtesy of a friend of mine who likes to sleep past his alarm. A lot. So much that I'm not even sure if he sets an alarm. It was also inspired by some movie I watched once when I was little. A doppelganger was sent to get information out of some dude. This story can be taken as Super Creepy or Slightly Unsettling and I like that it's vague enough to let the reader decide that.

MY VOTE: Korrin




Next Week’s Prompt:
If you, the reader, has been paying any attention, you know that all of us authors are in college. That means that stress abounds.
One of the best ways to deal with stress is to visualize a happy place. Happy places can be real or fictional, you just have to be able to see it and relax.  
Write in detail about a happy place.  This place can be yours or a character’s.  This character can be one of your own, or one that someone else made.
What does it feel like? What does it look like? Smells like? Sounds like? How does your body feel being there? What emotions do you have?

Do your best to make the place come alive.  Focus on the details. This way we can get rid of stress and expand our writing too.

September 15, 2015

Eggo

"Now, if it had been an actual waffle..."

She stared down at the message in disbelief. After all that happened, after all the trials, all the victories, all the sacrifices on both ends, this was what it came down to.

A waffle.

She would never see her daughter again over a waffle.

Jamie impatiently wiped the tear streaming down her cheek and reached for her coffee mug a little too quickly, sending it over the opposite edge of the counter and onto the harsh tile floor below. The teal blue ceramic was scattered across the floor, shattered into as many pieces as her soul. Her heart had already broken when she realized Carmen meant what she said when she ran out of the house all those years ago screaming that she wouldn't be coming home; her latest betrayal was somehow even worse. Especially now that she knew why Carmen left again.

"Mom?" The words that she heard only a few days prior flooded Jamie's mind. "Mom, I'm coming back home. Is that okay? Will you forgive me and let me back in?"

A thousand responses had crossed her mind, but she found herself saying "Of course, darling!" without a second thought. How she regretted those words now!

"I'll be there first thing in the morning!"

Without much time for preparation, Jamie had simply cleaned and thrown together a quick breakfast- fruit salad, fresh orange juice, and frozen waffles. Her daughter arrived and seemed glad for the meal and they talked about everything except the past. By the time they finished eating, however, Carmen had completely changed from the pleasant stranger to her old self, screaming and yelling and crying about Jamie's faults. She accused her harshly of ruining her daughter's life. Then she stormed out, promising never to be seen again.

Now she knew what set her off.

She should have taken the time to make her daughter an actual waffle.

Text

She smiles sweetly at me, and my hand shakes. It is only a flutter, but I cannot tell if she sees it. She is different. She is not what she says she is. My heart pounds louder and I try to keep my face neutral. She is not what she claims to be.

"Is something wrong?" she asks, tilting her head to the left like you always do and smiling that smile you've flashed at me so many times. I shake my head and force a grin across my face as I guard my phone with my hand, the text message from your number still fresh upon the screen.

"So I feel really bad, but I just woke up."

Farmer's Market

"We are going to a farmer's market at 10 if you want to come"
I hadn’t seen my siblings in 5 months when my sister sent me that text.  I missed them so much that going and looking at vegetables actually sounded fun.  Especially since my nieces and nephews would be there to play with.  They were so much better to hang out with than stinking adults anyway. I told my sister that I would love to go.  My car was in the repair shop for a nail in my tire so I had to get a ride with her.  My oldest brother would be meeting us at the market.  I was eight o’clock in the morning, so I had a few hours to do my work that was piling up before this weekend. 
I got absorbed in the data that I needed to consolidate and the reports I had to edit.  I was in the zone.  The piles of papers that had been accumulating over the last three weeks was finally beginning to diminish.  The only sound in my house was paper rustling and Owl City music being blasted through a stereo.  I always work better if I have noise, and music is the best noise there is. 
I was so caught up in my work that I didn’t realize it was 11:30.  I frantically called my sister, maybe she misunderstood that I needed a ride from her.  I started to pace as the phone was ringing. Apparently when you’re a mom you can’t answer the phone when your little sister is in panic mode.  By the eighth ring she finally picked up.
“Sorry, the baby had somehow stolen my phone, what’s up?” she says, as if everything was okay.
“I thought you were going to pick me up. My car is dead remember.” I say critically. I was a little upset that she had forgotten me, especially since we don’t have a lot of time together.
“I am.” She says. I can hear the question in her words about why I’m mad. 
“It’s after eleven sis.  What’s the deal?” I reply.  Moms of little children can’t tell time either. 
“Yeah. I know. The market doesn’t open until 10:00 p.m.” she explains to me as if I am her two year old.
What kinds of farmers market opens after dark? Do they want a sketchy crowd to show up? Do people just steal all the food since no one can see? It was the weirdest thing I had ever heard of. Well, at least recently.
“That’s the weirdest thing I have ever heard of.” I tell my sister.  “What are you going to do with the kids?” I was really hoping to chase some toddlers around a tomato stand.
“They are spending the night with their grandparents.  Mom and Dad want to make sure you have a reason to go see them tomorrow so they wanted to kidnap them.” My sister laughs. My parents would have such an unnecessary sly plan.
“Oh, well I guess I will see you tonight.” I say, more time for me to work.
The day goes by in a flurry of flying papers and thoughts as I frantically catch up with my work.  Before I know it, it is the time to go and see what kind of market my siblings are taking me to.
When we reach the field, everything seems normal. There are stands all around the field with walkways in between them for customers. Lights are hanging all over, it almost seems like a festival instead of an outdoor shopping area.  I hug my brother and notice, he didn’t bring his kids either. My parents probably also kidnapped them.  Oh well, the night was to be spent with only my siblings after all.
Don’t get me wrong, my siblings are great, but their kids are adorable which outweighs great.
We walk into the field and that’s when I start to notice the weird things.  The light I thought were hanging around, were actually fluorescent vegetables.  They had somehow gotten the food to glow different colors and created environmentally friendly illumination.  These glowing food were for sale, but there was no way I could eat glowing food.  There had to be something chemically added to it that was not good for my body. 
The glowing food was weird but for the most part everything else was just a normal farmer’s market.  There were booths selling food and some selling jewelry. There was even one for different rocks and materials.  Some of those glowed too, but that was more normal than the stringed tomatoes hanging in front of the booth. My siblings were starting to get really excited as the time went by.  It was cool, but not that cool.  We went by what seemed like every booth in the place before my brother and his wife lead us down a path lit with cucumbers that shone blue. 
All of the walkways lead to the center of the field, there was no way anyone could avoid going to the center of the field.  There was a kind of stage set up there.  It was wooden and round, surrounded by eggplants and other squash that were giving light to the audience.  There were benches all the way around the stage and my siblings led me to one right in the front.
“You are going to love this.” My brother-in-law says, sitting down next to my sister. I can nearly feel the anticipation in the air as more people sit around us.  I can also see a few confused faces in the crowd and I can imagine that’s what my face looked like. 
Had my siblings been eating the glowing food? Were they high on something? Did they bring me here to get me to become addicted too?
As I let my imagination begin to run away with me a spotlight appeared on the stage.  The silence that occurred was palatable.  The cool night air seemed to stand still as everyone held their breath. 
Soon a giant column of smoke rose up in the middle of the stage.  A man emerged from it. He was dressed in flamboyant clothes that sparkled in the light.  I don’t think there was a color he wasn’t wearing, it hurt my eyes just to look at him. His hair was a dark brown and he had a beard that nearly reached his knees.  It was a pretty impressive set up for being in the middle of a field.  But then everyone around me started screaming as if we were at a rock concert. What was going on?
“Hello friends! Welcome to our humble market. I hope you have enjoyed yourselves so far,” the colorful man began in his best show-man’s voice. “For those of you that are new we extend a special welcome to you.  I’m sure you all are wondering how we got our produce to shine so brilliantly.”
Yeah, I was wondering that, but I was more curious at the enamored faces my siblings had.  I think the man’s suit had some kind of brainwashing effect. 
“Well, I am going to tell you.  It’s magic.” When he said magic he circled his hand over his head, producing a glittering arc above him. He must have thought he was a Disney castle or something. He was certainly bright enough for that.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I doubted that, “’magic isn’t real’ but dear friends it is.”
An attendant from the side placed a pumpkin on the stage.  If he claimed to turn that into a carriage I was out of this freak show. Except he didn’t say anything.  He simply pointed to the squash and it started to glow a deep red color.  Maybe the bioluminescence only reacted with a chemical the aid placed.
“Some of you may be thinking that my partner put something on the pumpkin to make it glow. So now I am going to ask one of you, to pick a plant from anywhere in the field and place it on the stage. How about you my good sir?” he was pointing at my brother, “Have you been here before?”
“I have!” My brother chirped back happily.
“Then will you pick another participant for us, hopefully someone who has never been here.” That was what people would call an ‘Oh, crap’ moment.
You probably guessed it, he picked me.  I still call him a traitor.
I walked out into the field, far away from the stage so that I knew nothing from the stage could affect the produce.  The light was not out here so I had to use my phone flashlight to see. As soon as I turned it on, I saw the perfect specimen.  There was a sorry looking pepper right at my feet.  It was wrinkly and when I touched it the skin felt hard but the insides were definitely rotten.  I trod back to the stage and placed Frank on the opposite side of the stage from where the pumpkin was still glowing.  (I named the pepper, it was a long walk.)
I went back to my seat and when I had finally sat down, the shimmering man once more pointed his hands at the vegetable.  Frank glowed a bright purple, quite impressive for a green pepper. But that wasn’t all, Frank even became unwrinkled before our eyes. It was almost like life and been given back to the pepper.  There was no way they had time to rig something to do that. 
“As you can see ladies and gentlemen, my magic has brought life to this sorry excuse for a pepper and its vitality is shining for all to see.”  Clapping boomed in the area.  He even had me impressed. But there is no way magic is real.
“Now we all invite you to taste of our wares.” A woman had come from the direction of the barn carrying a basket full of teal gleaming apples.  My brother went over to the cue and grabbed an apple for every person in our party.  I didn’t want to eat the apple, but my sister forced me. And by forced I mean she plugged my nose until I couldn’t breath and shoved the apple into my mouth.  She didn’t let go until I had had a bite.
It was, without a doubt, the best apple I had ever eaten. But then something weird happened.  The world started to grow around me. I watched as my sisters stunned face grew and came right above me. What was happening? The world kept moving until I was as tall as a blade of grass. 
I checked my hands, to make sure I was still human and not like a mouse or something. Then the ground started to shake.
The next thing I know I am flying through the air. The colorful man had picked me up and was carrying to the stage. When he spoke, the air around me vibrated with the noise. I had to clap my hands over my ears to keep myself from going deaf.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you what happens when you partake of our fruit and do not believe. This young woman believed that everything could be explained through science. Now she will never forget to see the magic in the world.” He set me down on the stage and the world started moving again.
Next thing I know I am sitting on the wood and my family is running up to me.  

So now dear readers, I see the magic. You don’t really have much of a choice when a colorful wizard makes your life the plot of “Honey, I shrunk the Kids”.

September 5, 2015

Round Up: Week Sixteen

Last week’s prompt: 
Write a story that will build up drama and suspense, but does not give the reader a conclusion to the story.

Amanda 
I know I know, a wedding story. In my defense, when I wrote it, I had been to three weddings in two weeks and was making plans for a fourth one to come. I was deep in a wedding rut, so when I was told to create tension in a story without giving a conclusion, I knew a wedding was the perfect setting. 

Poor Charlotte. If not getting the wedding of your dreams wasn’t enough, getting punched in the face would surely put a damper on your wedding day. The her groom goes missing, and she becomes completely hopeless. I would give away more of her story, but that would be bringing things to a conclusion… so I shan’t. 

MY VOTE: 

Korrin
So when I read the prompt I was at a loss.  It’s kinda vague and I was not in a happy place. That’s when I thought, “Heck, I’m just going to write about a guy getting chased by a tiger.” 

Since I couldn’t give the audience an ending, obviously all I could think about was how to end it.  At first I was thinking that the guy would be saved by a random hunter. Then, I just had him die. Like I said I was in a bad mood. But then my dad gave me a great idea.  What if he woke up? The whole story is a dream.  To give hints to this fact I tried to overly describe everything he was seeing and feeling.  Even when he is running is supposed to be a dream sequence, like when you dream and you know you aren’t getting anywhere. 

MY VOTE: 

Next week’s prompt: 
Use the last text message you received as the basis of a story. Your character receives this message, and it changes everything. 

Small Announcement: 
Due to all of us being back in school and buried in homework, stories will now be posted every other week, but still on Tuesdays.