Today, I wanted to share some short things I wrote that were inspired by picture prompts. They range from one sentence to a few paragraphs in length.
I stepped outside and saw my little sister sitting on the pier, splashing her bare feet in the murky water of the lake. I screamed, dashing toward her and pulling her away from the water. “You know you’re not supposed to do that!” I cried, hugging her tightly. “You know what’s in the water.”
I was camping with my parents during the last week of summer vacation when the sea monsters abducted me.
“Don’t see me,” I whisper, huddling against the rock. “Don’t see me.”
But the black dragon has spotted me. He sends a blast of purple fire in my direction, scorching the grass in front of me. “Come join the fight, Arina!” he thunders.
The white dragon trumpets the same thing. A torrent of pale blue, life-giving fire spouts from its mouth, swooshing over the land devastated by the dragon of darkness. Withered blades of grass begin to turn green; the flame is bringing them back to life.
“Come join the fight, Arina!”
They will not make me reveal my true form. They will not make me wipe out anymore nations. They will not make me destroy anymore worlds.
I will remain earthbound.
We gathered on the rooftop to watch the world end.
I first saw her in the abandoned library. She was crouching at the end of an aisle, with an oversize leather-bound book balanced on her knee. The scene was normal enough — another rouge searching for the library’s haunting, acclaimed treasure — until the book began emitting blinding silver light. The vast collection of dusty volumes zipped off the shelves, propelled by some unknown force, and a wind blew into the building, ruffling their ancient, yellowed pages. For a moment, the only sound was that of the hovering books’ pages flapping in the wind.
And then she dove into the book and was gone.
We are known as the Travelers, walking from town to town. We are kicked out of each settlement within a week because the townsfolk are scared of us. People often wonder why our names are whispered in fear and awe. What could two young girls, a gurgling toddler, an old woman, and muscular African-American man have done to cause people to board up their doors when they visit each town?
It is not us. It is what is hunting us, and what it will do to catch us.
So . . . that was it. Yeah.
Which one was your favorite?
I was introducing one of my new friends to my cat, Boo, when one of my best friends said that the cat sometimes follows her into the bathroom. “Sometimes Boo hides behind the shower curtain, and she pushes her paws against it. It’s kinda creepy,” I added. Izzy (the BFF mentioned) said that she always checks behinds the shower curtain when she goes into the bathroom. My new friend and I both exclaimed that we did the same thing. I . . . I had a point when I started this story, but . . . um . . .