Category Archives: short story
She had eliminated three. Only 8 suitors remained.
When they had first been introduced to her, she found herself thinking “Is this it? This is the best selection the country has to offer?”
But when it came time to decide who would pass to the next round, she realized that she saw merit in more than a few.
In fact, only three of them had really been severely lacking in desirable qualities.
Maybe this would be harder than she thought.
The silly squirrel chirps and barks at me in anger. He wants me away from his tree? Ha! Fat chance! I defy his angry warnings and lope around the base of the catalpa. This is after all, my yard. What right does a squirrel have to tell me what to do?
He’s silent for a second.
Well now that we’ve got that out of the way, do you feel better mr. squirrel? No? How about we work out our differences? I jump onto the trunk of the tree, digging my claws into the bark. That jump was a little higher than I thought. I inch up the tree. I don’t know how high I can go, but cats always land on their feet, right?
It’s ok, squirrelly, I’m just coming to have a little chat. See? I’m not gonna hurt you (my claws are a bit busy keeping me in this damn tree. Why would you spend ALL your time in one of these?)
YES! I reached the lowest branch! I’m higher above the ground than the height of most humans! Where’d that pesky squirrel go?
Yeah, not quite as loud now are you? That’s right, you inch away. If I made it this high, I can get to you. That branch is only a few feet away. Look at how high I’ve climbed already?
Wow… That’s kind of high. How am I supposed to get down? Hmmm… Well, I’m sure I can just run down the trunk. But I’d better not go toooo much higher. Just a couple branches. Give that squirrel a little bit to worry about.
What’s my silly human doing out here?
“Tulip! Tulip Come down!” Snap, Snap.
Really? As if snapping her fingers is going to get me down. I’m fine. Go back inside. Leave me alone.
BWAHA! Didn’t think I was still paying attention to you, did ya, squirrelly?
I’m gonna getcha!
Okaaaay…. I guess I’ll let you live. This time.
Just because I don’t want my silly human to worry about me in this tree.
Now, to get down…… Ok, here goes..
clackety, scrape sliiiiide
Ooh, that was fun! I’ll definitely be doing that again. Watch out squirrelly! I’ll be back!
Here’s a piece inspired by a Nietzsche quote another blogger posted.“Those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” – Friedrich Nietzsche
“Run! We can get inside before we get too wet!” Sandra pulled on Lionel’s hand, rushing to get out of the rain. Suddenly, her hand was empty, and the five year old was sprinting the other direction, spinning around and jumping in the biggest puddle he could find.
“Lionel!” Get back here! You’ll catch your death!”
“Oh, no! It’s raining! Our hair will get wet! The girls complained while Lionel and Jesse rolled their eyes at each other. “I have an umbrella we can share.” Jesse said to his date. Sarah looked at Lionel expectantly. “Here,” he started to take off his jacket. “You can hold this over your head.”
“But then you’ll get wet!”
“I don’t mind, really.” They got out of the car. While Jesse and the girls rushed into prom, Lionel stood for a second, looking up at the sky, basking in the rain. He looked longingly at a nearby puddle, but then turned away and ran to catch up with the others.
“Lionel, hurry up! You’re going to be soaked through for pictures!”
“It’s pouring down out there!” The whole office was staring at the downpour. Lionel had been busy delivering coffee to superiors all day. The rain called to him. Finally, he burst through the door and let the drops pour over his face.
“What is he doing?”
“I think he’s … dancing.”
So, I’m a bit behind on this 30 day challenge thing. I guess I’ll just keep trucking and if it takes me 47 days, then so be it. Here’s Day Number 5. I wanted to edit it to make it more “show”, less “tell”, but this draft has been open for three days so I decided to just post it. So here ya go.
A ship is meant to soar across the raging sea, to battle wind and wave and arrive at its destination, perhaps a little harrowed, but still able to fulfill its duty.
This ship, though, would never see an ocean. The craftsman had spent weeks, drawing plans, carving stone, polishing the ship, adding gold accents. Now he had a beautiful ship, destined to a life of identity crisis. Read the rest of this entry
So, not doing so great on the writing challenge so far. Fairy tale still in progress, and I’ll have to post my fanfic for day #2 at a later date, so you’ll get an extra post one of these days. But I did manage to write a story for today’s prompt, which is: Write a story that takes place pre-1950s. It’s short, but it’s a post. 🙂 It’s set during the potato famine, which I’ve always wanted to write about, with two characters I’ve wanted to follow for a bit. This is just a dialogue between the two; hopefully I can expand it into a story one of these days. Read the rest of this entry
A couple of years ago I took a gothic novel class. It was really fun, because you could tell it was a class the professor cared about and truly enjoyed. Because of this, the students were able to enjoy it as well. Our final project was to take at least two characters from at least two different novels we had read and make them interact. I wrote a short scene with a bunch of the women in the books.
In gothic literature, women are most often put into one of two categories; the angelic woman or the demonic woman. The angelic woman is innocent, dull, and needs men to think for her. She is easily victimized and if she does not meet ruin it is because of a man saving her.
The demonic woman does not submit to men. She is overbearing, often set on world domination and prone to violence. She is the reason that women must be tamed and cannot be trusted. She is often used as a case for denying women education.
The one exception to this rule is Mina Harper, from Dracula. She is smart and capable of reason and logical thought, but uses her knowledge to help her husband, so is neither the demonic or angelic archetype.
I thought it would be interesting to put a bunch of these very different women together at a woman’s lib meeting and see what happened. This is the result. Read the rest of this entry
A while ago, due to some outings and random conversations, a group of friends and I started referring to going out, drinking, dancing, and having a good time as “networking”. I decided to write a piece about this, but format it as a classroom worksheet, which the character was using as a diary of sorts rather than completing the assignment. Below are the results. I haven’t looked at it for a while, and think I want to expand on it, either as is, or incorporating it into a larger work. Let me know what you think and if you have any other suggestions for questions/answers that could be on the worksheet. Read the rest of this entry
I wrote this one for a creative writing class after reading Lolita. The assignment was to write a piece with the phrase “picnic, lightning”.
After seventeen years of idyllic childhood, the core of Kara’s Stepfordian world was crumbling. As the family sat down for their weekly Sunday picnic, lightning flashed in her mind. Thunderclouds of thoughts and confusion clogged up her contemplating cerebrum. In the terror of this tornado, Kara did not know what to do. All of the structure that she had established in her life was gone. It had begun with a pizza and ended with Kara walking in on her mom and the delivery man. Read the rest of this entry
A punny fellow English major friend and I almost named this one “stream of conciousness.” But the title as it is is perfect, and though I’ve thought of making many changes after readers misunderstood and just failed to “get” this piece, it says exactly what I want it to, and I can’t really imagine any changes without compromising the piece.
Without further rambling…
It is a gorgeous day. I swim freely in my lovely, fast-paced stream, loving life. For a while, I was afraid that I would regret leaving the cave-pond where I grew up, but I longed to escape. I needed change. So I left, and I am loving my life in this action-packed river. But don’t be fooled. Though I have been sheltered, I am not ignorant of the ways of this world. I know the dangers that lurk around every corner, waiting to catch me unawares.
So of course, your bait does not fool me. Yes, that plump worm is tempting, floating there, just begging to be snatched up, but I know that hiding beneath that fleshy mass is a wiry hook- a hook that has caught many fish already, and will catch many more. I refuse to be one of those fish. Read the rest of this entry
The lonely, pale apple hung from the tree as all the children reached for its brighter, more appetizing counterparts. Sharlene, a girl of eight years old, looked up at the tree, stretching her small head as far back as it would go, and decided she would be the one to get the apple at the very top. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and scrambled to start her ascent.
As the lone apple longingly watched her climb past, it felt a tickle in its skin. A worm was coming to visit! The apple did not mind the worm’s invasive presence, as it so deeply longed for company. Perhaps the worm would stay the night in the burrow it had created. Nights were so much warmer with a friend. Read the rest of this entry