Almost Drabbles

There’s an old legend that any of the stones on this hill will give you the power to make your wishes come true.
Of course, if that were true they’d be all gone now. It didn’t take me long to come through the forest to this spot, and there are no scary legends about this place, either.
I thought… I thought it’d be hard to get here, I guess. I thought there’d be some scary guardian, not the peaceful hazy shade of tall trees and slippery mounds of round pebbles beneath them.
I can’t see the ground underneath the stones in some place, even when I rake some aside. I wonder how far down they go.
I scoop one up and turn it around in the light.
The green light reflects off its unusually round surface, merging with shades of purple shadow.
It’s smooth, as if it spent a long time underwater.
I close my fingers around it, and the forest suddenly gets small beneath me.
I trip, grasping for purchase with my lizard claws, spreading my wings and flapping.
Before I know it the forest is below me and I can no longer figure out where the clearing is. I’m hit with a sudden certainty that I won’t be able to find it again.
How does turning into a dragon help me achieve my wishes? What are my wishes?
I guess it’s time to go home and find out.


Next: Rising

1 Like

You triggered one of my “seeds”, yay!

31st Fall, GED 1279 or ZEN 4

The rising sun brought a new day, one full of a dozen questions and fewer answers, but it was a day no less. The Fistfull Shaman stood up in the battlefield he had faked being slain in—carefully, in a corner where he couldn’t be found by the damn dragons, yet again. They could sense him in the valley while he fought, but he wasn’t a Shaman by title alone—once it was time to “die”, he altered his very life’s essence to be shielded even from these demon masters. He had to kill a dozen or so of the combatants to make it to the half-cave with shadows deep enough for Ackmal to not see in. It was shallow enough to watch the worst of the battle he’d left behind, though. Two dragonettes attacked the three-headed rat, each losing their life to an impressive maw. The third caught the beast from behind—a killing blow on one rat head—apparently the hind-control because it dropped to it’s haunches after that bite. Then it rejoined it’s remainder to tag-team some of the giants, while the Wyvern Snyamlich would grab them and peel off into the heights to shatter them on the rocks. The 3rd giant caught onto the game and used it’s extended claws as a launching site to reach the great Wyvern’s head and crush it’s skull from eyesocket-to eyesocket—across the top of the skull where the horns were, not further down where the soft plates towards the nasal passage are crushable my man’s mighty blows. Of course, by that point, the giant was at rock-dashing height, falling to his death in quick order—on top of one of the remaining two dragonettes. That 4th one was a mutual death between it and the remaining giant.

As for Ackmal the Dragonlord? His bellow, meant to unearth the Shamen was taken as a challenge by the barbarian queen, and she shouted back at the great Dragonlord with more power than he brought to bare—proving that she was an ascending Dragonlord herself…and from the looks of it, a possible mate. That didn’t stop the battle that raged between them, battering each other back and forth in a search for dominance. Before Fyoldar had finally stilled his heart enough to pass out, he watched Ackmal snap his mate’s forearm as he brutally ripped her from this plane of existence.

Knowing how the Dragonlord’s matings went—with an injured maid, no less—it would be a two-month before Ackmal would dare search for The Fistful Shamen again. Which meant he had time to collect this bounty, clean up the dragon meats, and settle a defense in this very war-torn valley that even the dragons couldn’t shatter. Just barely. Dragon meat didn’t decay the same way other flesh did, but the battlefield would have to be preserved until he had dealt with the other dead.

Of course, there were still a few idiots outlasting the fight, smashing fists agaisnt each other, even as they tried to not pass out. If they survived the freeze, they would make for strong servants, if they were malleable enough. Never knew with Wildmen. Fyoldar stirred from his semi-trance to pray, and an icy void filled the valley, frosting over the living and dead alike, then he ambled across his intended path, to get into the next valley, and after the women he had been tasked to capture or kill—the bountry cared no which he did.

Next: Mulled

1 Like

I mulled over my total lack of options, sitting slowly back in my chair and watching the pure white light through the window, the softly muted sound of wind shuffling through the trees out front.
I was sitting there for a long time. I think I got up once or twice, but I always came back here, sat back down, when the pain grew too large to see around.

I don’t want to leave my chair, I don’t want to face reality.
I slowly sink back, my thin limbs rubbing against the old fabric of the armchair. I close my eyes, the pain radiating through my whole body.
I don’t want to do anything. I don’t have anything to do, because nothing is important.
I want to sink into it and close my eyes against the white light out of the large panes of glass, blink at the halting motion of huge green masses of leaves, accept the frozen moment in time instead of getting up and walking through the pain.
How am I supposed to care about anything when it all feels blunt and muddy, filtered through the radiating ache and apathy from my heart?
Yet still, I need to get up. I itch to work on something, to run against the wind, to work on something so hard I eventually care about it.
I square my tiny shoulders and get up, focusing on the task ahead through the haze of pain.


Next: Bubbles

A tall fish man in a fedora is blowing bubbles the size of a truck over the sea.
“Come on, this looks cool!” I say, rushing forward.
“Hey, I wanted to go check out the moon flower fields!”
“We can do that right afterward, okay?”
I ignore both of them and run up to the fish man.
“Would you like a ride over the sea?” he asks.
“What are we riding?” my moon flower obsessed companion says skeptically in the background.
“Sure!!” I agree.
We gather together, looking at the fish man curiously, and he blows a bubble. It gets larger and larger until it surrounds us, then we lose our balance and slip on the floor of the bubble as it quickly drifts out to sea.
“Whoa…” my formerly skeptical companion says, pressing her hands to the side of the bubble and looking out at the bubble covered sea, eyes sparkling.


Next: Fanart

1 Like

I never expected my fanart to come to life.
Then again, being from a family of witches you never know what to expect. Things are magical when they’re not supposed to be.
Jackson Mchandsomeson is flirting with me much in the way he was in the fanfic the fanart was for, but he’s…
Weird.
I look at the messy black hair and flirty smile and think about the canon version of mister Mchandsomeson. He would probably be trying to kill me right now.
“Sure, let’s go out for smoothies,” I say, intreagued.
I wonder if he’ll revert to his canon personality if I make him mad. I mean I have magic so it wouldn’t be a huge deal, but I want to watch how he acts with other people.
I can’t leave this imaginary real guy alone.


Next: Wrapped

2 Likes

The wrapped bundle of golden ribbons and shawls wriggles as it hangs from the ceiling, and Lux can distinctly make out Kiana’s muffled shouts as they echo down the wide hallways of the mall.
He would laugh under any other circumstance, and taken the time to gloat.
Well, there was still the time for that later.
Just as soon as he figured out where the monster was.
The mall was silent, except for Kiana’s struggles, but Lux could feel the reverberations through the air. A Dhukshath was near, though he couldn’t tell where it was hiding. It’s a good thing Kiana was out of the way and wouldn’t be able to stop him.


next
shining

1 Like

A shining smile, a shining manner, shining jewelry.
I smile at my new babysitter, envying her easy manner.
“Do you want to try on my earrings?” she says, noticing my eyes on them.
“I… well…”
“They clip on. Here,” she says, handing one to me.
I put it on and run to the mirror on the door, admiring the sparkling green gem.
“It looks expensive,” I say, looking up at her.
“It’s actually glass. I got them for twenty bucks.”
“Oh…” I run my fingers over the gem, wondering if my mom would buy me earrings like these.
“Someday you’ll be able to buy stuff like this just for yourself,” she says, smiling and trying to catch my gaze.
I don’t feel like meeting her eyes, but I smile, trying to make up for it.
“These are really pretty.”
“You’re right, that’s why I chose them,” she says.


Next: Lamp

1 Like

My pulse has slowed and I think I’m calm.
I turn the lamp off once more, pushing myself even though I’m exhausted.
My hands start to glow right away, spirals of light shooting down them and surrounding my hands, creating blue auras that want to shoot wide, play and grow bigger and bigger, too big.
I rein them in, keeping them close to my hands as they start to grow.
I have them! I’m keeping them in control!
In the milisecond my face starts to curve into a smile, an explosion of light bursts into insense pain in my head and a sound so loud it doesn’t register.

I swim into consciousness, putting my hands to my head as a splitting headache rages inside it.
“I can’t teach you, Felt. You’re out of control. The explosion destroyed irreplacable texts and cost a lot in damages.”
I can’t open my eyes, there’s a painfully bright light in them even closed. The steady, older owner of the voice sounded grave.
After a minute of silence, I have to assume he left the room.
I try to piece together what happened, pull my memories to me, but it all scatters around the pain in my head and light behind my eyes, and I sink back into the light.

“Poor child, you never asked for this, did you?” a woman in long green robes intricately decorated with lines leans over me.
“You must learn to take care of our power. Keep them safe, let them know you care about them. Don’t worry, you’ll find another teacher.”
She pats my head.
“You must. I know, ask your friend Peter.”
Who is Peter?
The woman and the pure white field and sky behind her fade away from me dizzyingly quickly, and I fall back into the bed.
The light and the pain have died down just a little bit, and I pry my eyes open to a dark room. Despite the darkness, I can still see around me. There are herbs in baskets and bottles on shelves all down the walls, and a fireplace with ashes.
The light is with me still, echoing out from my head. Perhaps that’s why I can see everything.


Next: Beginning

The road ahead of us is dark on top, midnight blue like my favorite pair of trousers, and a sunny yellow on the bottom like a well done pie.
I’m hungry just thinking about it, but I plan to travel a few more miles before I stop to eat.
It’s the beginning of my journey to become a wing expert.
I haven’t decided whether I want to craft wings for people, be a deliveryman, or predict weather patterns from high up in the air.
And who knows, perhaps I’ll learn about other things on the way there. The journey to become a wing expert is a long one with a lot of knowledge bundled up on the way.
I don’t expect the first expert I ask to teach me, but there’s one in every town further toward the capital city. I’ll definitely find someone willing to take a chance on me.
Yes, this is the beginning of my-
I trip head over heels on a root and scream in pain as something snaps in my ankle.
“!@#$%^&*!!!” I gasp.
“That hurts! That HURTS!” I mumble, holding my ankle and groaning.
This is the beginning of a big problem for my plans.


Next: Back

The stones were heavy in my pockets as I trudged down the hotel’s hallways.
As usual, I trailed water through the rich marble floors, tracked mud up the grand stair case, and ended up knocking on her door.
It took a few moments, but when the door opens, I walk past her into the room, throwing myself into her bed.
I nuzzled into the soft blankets, pulling the pillows from under my back to hug them.
"Where-- " She blinks, as flabbergasted as she is every time, as if she’s not used to this by now.
Then she stops, shakes her head as I inhale the comforting scent of air conditioner and faint perfume, two scents usually prominent in her room, which was usually set to below freezing temperatures.
“How are you?” I ask, though it comes out like slurred. I yawn into my elbow.
“I’m sorry, what?” She asks, walking off.
Soon after, when I shake my head after nodding off for a moment, I see her mopping up the floor.
“Just leave it. It’s gonna get like that again tomorrow anyway.” I say helpfully.
“Doesn’t mean I should let this mess be,” she sighs, the long, tired sigh of someone who has resigned themselves to a long, and tedious chore. That chore is probably me.
I smile, drifting off again, as the air warms around me.

I look at the creature doze when I’m done mopping, always fascinated by the glowing warmth that emanated from them in their natural state. Dreams swirl around their head as I sit on the bed, waving my hand through the wispy forms of golden moon and star balloons.


next!
thunder

1 Like

When the storm passes, all there is is thunder for a few days.
Amma and Kyte spring to action, sending out apologies and explanations, and they confine me to my room for the time being.
I lie in the bed, feeling heavy as Noon floats somewhere above me, sensing her presence even behind my closed eyes.
“I finished my homework.” I finally say, managing to claw the words out of me.
“Huh? Oh, yes, I saw.”
“You’re still here.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
Yes.
I don’t say it, but I think it’s pretty obvious.
I hope that’s the end of that, and try to drift back into sleep, but a few moments later, the windows are thrown open, and light hits my eyes.
“Do you know what you need? You need some sunlight.”
I groan, turning over and covering my head with the crook of my elbow.
“Hey, hey Dil, look at this.”
“I’m tired, Noon.”
“Come onnn, open your eyes, look!”
I feel cool fingertips on my forehead, and I groan again, turning my face away. “Please leave.”
She grabs my face, turning me towards the light as I hiss.
“Knock knock,” She chimes. “It’s waaaay past when you should be awake. Anyway, look at this!”
I squint, cracking my eyes open. “What should I be seeing?” I sigh.
“Isn’t it such a pretty blue?”
“What is?”
“The sky, duh!”
I close my eyes, turning my head to get rid of her grip. “Noon, let me sleep.”


next!
link

1 Like

this is so cute


Our eyes widened the first time they met. Normally I wouldn’t have noticed the dark eyed teenager with the other village’s negotiation party, and normally they wouldn’t have noticed me, similarly unremarkable.
Neither of us were old enough to speak at the meeting, we were just there to listen to the adults in order to learn.
But I recognized the kid standing quietly and the background, and they recognized me.
I tried to catch their attention after the meeting was over and the groups were saying their goodbyes, but they avoided my eyes and turned away, shoulders stiff.

I was surprised and hurt. I’d thought that with the link between us, I’d finally found someone who might understand me, someone I could really be friends with.
I’d dreamed their dreams every night for my whole life. I knew their face from the third person perspective that the dreams often used.
I could only assume they’d been in my head at the time, seeing whatever I was dreaming about.

I wanted to ask them about the strange people and creatures in their dreams, the recurring characters who would go about their day without noticing me, except in rare cases where they looked directly at me or directed a remark seemingly at me.
One time the raccoon in the long purple cape and hat was talking to the blue fairy about the magical dam in the forest that was near breaking from the seasonal magic river rising, and the raccoon looked right at me and said,
“This would be easier if SOMEONE would help us,” then went back to the conversation with the fairy as if I didn’t exist.

I first got the chance to talk to the dark eyed kid when I ran into them in a part of the forest I’d found that looked a lot like the area with the magic dam in their dream.
I’d started hanging out there after noticing the resemblance- this grassy fiend was empty, rather than containing a huge wall of white and pink rushing magic held back by a massively tall glass wall, but the layout of the trees was exactly the same.

“Who are you?” the kid says, looking ready to run back behind the tree they had crept around.
“I’m Aria, the healer’s daughter. What about you?” I ask, nervous but trying to look friendly.
“I’m Fevrin. How do you know about this place?” they ask, clutching their arms around their stomach defensively.
“You dream about it,” I say.
I feel like that should be obvious. How else would I know?
“No I don’t. I have horrible nightmares… and I’m always you in them.”
Their defensiveness suddenly makes more sense, but why would I have horrible nightmares? My life is fine.
“That doesn’t really make sense. I thought we were dreaming each other’s dreams.”
“What do I dream about, then?” the kid says, coming closer to sit beside me on the damp grass.


Next: Flee

1 Like

I flee from the figure in my mind, but he screams the words at me and they reach my ears anyway.
“It was your fault! You have to apologize!”
I open my eyes and desperately click through the internet, looking for something cheap and random to distract me.
My hand brushes over a figurine on the floor, and I hear the man in my head yelling at me to look at her face, so I pick it up and gaze into the blank smile of the person who used to be my best friend.
They’re posing like they’re just an action figure. Someone from this world would just see them as an action figure.
And it’s my fault they’re a plastic figurine rather than a living breathing human.
I raise my eyes to the shelf of figurines above me, packed with inhabitants of what used to be my world. There are so many more of them than we could pack into this tiny apartment.
My roommate comes in with groceries, his eyes dull and sleep deprived as he looks at the wall of people. He slumps over on the couch and opens his laptop, staring at the screen with no particular focus.
“You have to tell him what happened. This is all your fault.”
I shake away the voice of the man inside my head and put on my earbuds, blasting generic pop music to drown out his voice.


Next: Conversation starter

1 Like

“What’s your favorite smell?”
The voice is uncomfortably close to my ear. I whip my head around to stare at the person who asked me. They have wavy shoulder length black hair, dark brown eyes, and a big pushy smile.
“WTF?” I say.
I don’t know this person?
“It’s a conversation starter.”
I give them a flat stare. Are they hitting on me? Just being weird to get a reaction?
“Look, I found it on this site.”
They show me their phone, where a random conversation starter generator shows the question.
“Maybe don’t use that in actual situations?” I say, unconsciously holding my plate of food between me and the weird stranger.


inspired by a random conversation starter generator XD I should use this more for flash fiction, it’s great

Next: impulse purchase

1 Like

“What the !#$% is that?” my date says, his narrow peanut butter brown eyes sharpening.
I can only guess he’s genuinely wondering.
“I might let you have it if you ask nicely,” I say, shaking the extravagant coat out and resting it on my shoulders, deftly making my way through figuring out the straps that attach it to my body.
I’m good at this sort of things.
“Is that… a coat? Or, cape or… garment?” he finally grasps.
“It called out to my soul when I saw it on the shelf,” I say, quickly tying multiple knots.
“Okay, cool.”
He watches me tie the dozens of threads into a workable, pretty pattern to attach the fluffy, ribbony contraption to my shoulders.
“Ta-da,” I say, spinning around.
He raises an eyebrow, his mouth quirking up in an impressed smile.
“I’m still not sure what that thing is, but I think you somehow made it work,” he says.


Next: Grow up

I used to wonder what the world would be like later in life. Even though I loved my friends and the long games we played in the park or our houses, messing up our rooms in inventive ways until someone yelled at us, a part of me was always looking at the invisible place beyond the present.
“-And I hate her! She acted all nice to get him to think she was nicer than me and I know she’s sneering at me whenever she does her little professional smile at me! I want to tell her to-”
How did she get so boring and petty? I’m still friends with her because she’s the only one who hasn’t moved away, and I keep hoping that somewhere inside her is the creative, happy person who used to comfort us when we needed it, come up with inventive games, and sometimes take the blame when the adults were particularly angry.
Her aura is dull now, filled with bitterness. I look out over the park we used to play in as children. Then, we wouldn’t be sitting on this bench, we’d be crawling under it, traversing the playground, digging under the trees, climbing. None of that seems like a possibility now. She’d say, ‘People would think we’re weird,’ and look at me like I was weird for suggesting it.
The trees are bare and the air is cold, but even on a snowless winter day there would have been so much more to do.
I miss everyone. I wish I could go back.


Next: Burnt


My gloves crumble around my fingers, burnt to ash. I gasp for air, exited and scared. I can’t tell my husband about this, he’d only tell me I couldn’t do it. My youngest would let it slip, and my oldest might want to report it to the authorities.
I carefull clean the ashes off my hands as much as I can, then glance back at the door and let another burst of flame light up the sky above the grey concrete roof I’m standing on.
The clouds themselves seem to drink in the light. I’ve never felt so thrilled.
The door creaks and I turn around, heart racing as I try to figure out the most natural way to hold my shoulders and hope David doesn’t have better night vision than me.
“Mom? Did you see that?” my oldest asks, concerned.
“Oh- yeah- I’m not sure where it came from,” I stutter.
“Do you think there’s someone with superpowers around here? We’d better go in, it’s not safe.”
He reaches for my hand,
“Better not, they’re dirty,” I say, and follow him in.
I let him open our apartment door for me and immediately head to the sink, washing the evidence off my hands.
“It’s so stupid that we live in a world with so many threats and now there’s suddenly criminals with supernatural powers. You should take someone with you when you go outside at night, mom. Even on the roof, we don’t know who could get up there.”
“I’ll stay safe,” I reassure him.
He worries too much. He shouldn’t feel responsible for everyone else, he’s got to live life and be a kid too.
Effie walks in, head buried in the big honey brown teddy bear she carries around when she’s at home.
“I’m hungry,” she complains.
“We’re going to start making dinner, but we’re waiting for dad. You can have a snack,” I say, opening the snack cupboard and stepping aside with an inviting wave.
“There’s mouse poop in here,” she states flatly.
“Yeah you shouldn’t eat anything in there, it’s not properly sealed,” David says, peering over her shoulder.
I take a look as well- I’ve seen the mouse poop, but everything is closed and sealed when we put it away.
“It’s fine, see, everything is closed,” I point out.
“It’s not fine, mice can chew through things! They could have gotten into the food at any time and they carry a lot of dangerous-” David’s voice rises in stress as he speaks.
I put a hand on his shoulder.
“The food is fine. Look at these cookies, the mice haven’t gotten into them,” I say, holding a box of cookies out to the skeptical teen, though her arms are filled with teddy bear.
“You don’t know that,” David insists.
Effie stares at the cookies flatly.
“I’ll wait for dinner,” she says miserabley, shuffling off to her room.
“Now look what you’ve done, she won’t eat!” I reprimand David.
“I’m telling you we need to get plastic bins for the snack cupboard!” he says.
I don’t think that’s necessary, but to placate him I say,
“I’ll take it under consideration.”
He glares at me, and I stare back until he huffs and leaves the room.
He’s going to get dad to buy the plastic bins.


Next: Onion

1 Like

It was dark when he found her.
Nidhii was kneeling in the damp grass, surrounded, as usual, by too many glowing, abstract things that Neil tries his absolute best not to focus on for too long, lest he attract their attentions.
“Where have you been?” He asks, almost snapping, though his voice is soft.
Nidhii looks up at him, her eyes roving over the space he’s standing in as if she can’t see him, and looks back down at whatever is in that patch of grass. “You’re in the way. Leave.”
At this, Neil tenses, not having expected the ice in her tone. “Everyone is waiting–”
Leave.”
Listen to me.
Nidhii’s slow to react, looking at him again with her lips set tightly, as if she were granting an angry toddler his unreasonable request.
Neil would’ve stepped closer, would’ve dragged her to her feet by her shirt to shake her out of whatever world she was lost in. But he knows better than to approach the Mai, and by the looks of it, plenty were crawling all over her.
“Everyone’s been searching for you. You missed the exam.”
Nidhii watches his angry breaths for a second, before nodding. “Alright. Thank you for letting me know.”
“I’m not here to let you know! I’m here to drag you back!”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
“I know exactly what I know dealing with. I’m dealing with you, and you can’t take one second without being an insufferable nuisance–”
And just like that, the space around him starts to peel back like the skins of an onion.
So many distortions, so many layers, until he’s standing alone, facing a cafeteria-full of students who give him curious looks, as a lunch tray falls from his still hands.
Neil’s breaths are uneven as he looks around, gritting his teeth as he tries to figure out where, when he is.
By the time he orients himself, Arrossa is picking up his tray.
“Let’s go, Neil,” she says, tugging at his arm.


next!
boat

1 Like

The creaking of the boat is almost, almost enough to distract her from the pain roiling in the pit of her stomach.
Cold, salty winds buffet across the waters, bringing her the stench of nature.
“You said it wasn’t far,” she says, turning accusingly to the man at the motor. He has a scruffy appearance, a curly beard, the hard lines of a well-worn sailor.
“It isn’t.”
“We’ve been out here for more than five hours!”
He grins. “For someone who spent half the time throwing up, you’ve kept meticulous tack of the time.”
“I have a watch,” She says drily, having the faint feeling that she was being made fun of.
“Why do you need a thing like that in the afterlife?”
“I don’t know! Why do you need anything in the afterlife.”
“To make death more sufferable, I guess.”
“If you know, there was no need to ask.”
“I was hoping conversation could keep you from whining.”
“You’re a real pleasure to be around, you know that?”
“Why, that’s really kind of you to say, miss.”
Lydia rolls her eyes, muttering, “Why do I even bother with you.”
There’s a brief stretch of silence, then—
“So what is your name here?” She asks.
He heaves a sigh, shrugging. “Heck if I knew.”
“You probably go by something, right?”
“Mm. If it makes you happy, you can call me Bob.”
“That’s a stupid name.”
“You’ve offended quite a few people out there. How about Helen?”
“Getting stupider.”
Another silence.
“How about Death?” She asks.
“Terribly creative, aren’t you?”
“Would you save me if I drowned here, Death?”
“The waters would incinerate you before I could, even if I wanted to.”
She wrinkles her nose. “The water’s poisonous?”
“People have tried swimming back, so I suppose there have to be countermeasures.”
“So would you save me?”
“Now who’s getting stupider? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to jump.”
“I mean, it beats spending a few more hours with you.”
“You think?”
“No.”
He laughs, as if she was amusing.
She really wasn’t trying to be. A second later, her insides lurch, and she’s throwing up again over the side of the boat.
“Can’t we… I dunno, teleport there? Or fly there? Does it needto be a boat?”
There’s no reply, and when Lydia looks up, the man is gone, and she’s on the boat alone, floating gently on the waves of an expansive sea.
————————

next!
pastel

2 Likes

Pastel colors surround me as I lie on the faded grass. Everything feels faint, just out of reach. There are no people anywhere, and I can’t see textures.
The grass is soft, I think. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt grass.
The sky seems far away, or perhaps deceptively close.
My throat is closed with the knowledge that I want to get out of here and can’t. I want to remember vivid things, but even the word vivid is faint in my mind.
My feet sink into the cloud soft ground as I walk, making my way through an empty playground made of faded colors and the faint smell of sugar. I walk through a city made of featureless gray cubes and storefronts with no letters selling typical items with no details.
I walk through a forest made of simple, short trees.
I reach a shore made of water that I can’t enter.
I turn around and realize I don’t want to walk back through the eerie, empty places I just came through. But there’s nothing else to do.


Next: Plunge

1 Like

“Where do we go now?”
“Just, jump!”
Lydia freezes, and looks at Noon. There’s no space in the crevice of the rocks they’re hiding in, and they’re awkwardly maneuvering down the limited space, every move a precarious decision when it makes a sound that drowns Lydia’s heartbeat. But now, they were at the end of the path, the only thing Lydia could see was the expanse of sea beyond the crack they were standing in. “What?”
Noon was looking back, from the way they’d come, shuddering when he hears the scrape of millions of little claws making their way towards them. “Jump, you idiot, jump.”
“I’m not jumping!”
“Why not?
“Noon, this isn’t time for one of your games.”
Noon sighs, worrying his lip, which was already bleeding a little, and looks at Lydia, his eyes wide and panicked. “Do you trust me?”
“Not at all.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to.”
“If you push me here, I swear, Noon, I’ll never–”
Noon shoves her from the space they’re in, Lydia’s eyes widening in alarm, hands grasping at empty air, anger and panic overtaken by pure fear as she falls through empty space. She scrunches her eyes closed, curling into a ball.
Noon watches her fall, taking a few steadying breaths as he closes his eyes to the scene, fighting his instincts to shy away from the edge. Then he takes the plunge, a scream ripping from his throat.


next!
startling white

1 Like