“If we want to be completely honest with each other, my short friend, it was the silence that woke your queen, not I.”
The constable still struggled to maintain his grip on the ever shifting apparition that looked like that feisty woman from last year, the only one who had managed to ruin a perfectly well-organised execution. “Don’t give me that. Silence doesn’t wake anyone, nor does it put them in a slumber afterwards. We saw you -”
“You saw me doing what exactly?”
“Pulsing,” the constable said and made a point by waving a fat hand before her face when no other descriptive word came to his mind, “over her head. Now she can’t wake up.”
“That’s ’cause she stopped listening. It demands her attention. Mine as well, and your voice is so annoying.”
“Listening what? What does it say? Who says it?”
The shimmering woman paused, focused on the air around her, listened earnestly. “It says, ‘we should talk about your unborn ancestors and the crimes they’ll commit’.”
Writing prompt 26
“I’m trapped. This is where I had died.”
Jeremy twisted his head a little to the left. Nope, that didn’t help either. Strange how anyone had written a message in such a way. At least Miranda’s pocket mirror was good for something other than checking her eyeliner every five seconds. If only it were a decent-sized one instead of the tiny thing he had to work with; such a pain trying to read the mirror image of a backwards message through something half the size of his palm. He sniffed the air, crinkled his nose. What’s that smell anyway? Like rotten lavender. Damn; it was from the letters. The more of the message appeared, the more it smelled.
“Hey, Jerry,” Miranda said, “another line appeared on the far corner, I think.”
I’m actually quite intrigued by this now. I may actually sit down and write a story about it, hehe.
Writing prompt 25
The doors slid opened. The short, sturdy woman walked in again, this time with a bundle of papers under her arm. She snapped her fingers and one of the guards brought her a wooden half-rickety chair. She shooed him away and placed the chair in front of the prisoner.
She studied him, brought a pack of cigarettes out of a pocket, took one out, tapped it on the stack of papers on her lap.
“Who are you?” the prisoner asked. “Why am I here?”
She was about to light her smoke when she paused and eyed him from over the flame. She took a long drag, blew it out and smiled at him. “Before we start, you should know you’ve already been here before, already had this conversation several times in the past, or in the future – depends on how you see it – and it didn’t go so well for either of us back then.” She shook the ash. “What story will you tell me this time?”
Inspirational prompt 22
So what do you think happened here? An accident? An argument that led to a fight? That’s one possibility. I like fantasy and sci-fi because I can “abuse” the what if question and go beyond the bounds of our real world. So, forget the curb of the pavement for a while and imagine him in the country. What if someone’s chasing him and the kid in the picture does what we used to watch in old western movies, the hero listening for vibrations through the ground? Why would someone chase him? Did he steal something? Something valuable? OK, but what if what’s valuable to him may be life-giving for those after him? What if he has travelled to a strange land, and the ground shakes under his feet? Ominous sounds or not? Maybe, if it’s a sound he hears, it’s a voice or a scream. Maybe the land is communicating with him, so he lies down and listens. What if he has overheard a secret, a word so powerful that whoever could utter it would control and shape the world around him? A word that is in the rainwater, and is the answer to everything everyone has ever wanted to know? Does he seek that knowledge for himself? To save his town, country, loved ones? To see through a task so difficult that entire armies have failed before him?
I’m sure there are other things you can come up with. Try 🙂
