Week 39 participating in the very popular #vss365 challenge on Twitter. The aim, to write a daily Very Short Story in less than 280 characters, a single tweet. Yes, that’s characters! Not words.
The prompts themselves are seemingly random single words, the whim of this month’s challenge setter. This months fun is organised by @fhaedra in May. I’ve taken some liberties with formatting simply because WordPress is not Twitter and to make it easier to read.
This week’s cover photo was taken on a lovely long walk with Archer. I love the undulating waves of what I assume is rapeseed against the blue sky and earthy tones in the foreground. Looks almost oceanic. This week will go down in infamy for a number of reasons ranging from the UK government advocating driving to test your eyesight through to riots in the US after the sickening murder of George Floyd. In both instances, it seems that our choice of incompetent populist leaders is creating an environment that emboldens the worst of us. The lockdown in the UK is being relaxed at breakneck speed. Any idea of making small changes and measuring their impact seems to have gone out the window. Any scientist will tell you changing dozens of variables mid-experiment is not good science.
Writing this week has been a little slow. I’ve had a couple of drabbles accepted into Macabre Ladies upcoming Dread Book One anthology which is fantastic. Another step close to my goal for the year. I’ve been making glacial progress on a sci-fi horror story for a submission that closes in the next few days.
Sunday 24th May – Dreamcatcher
Since I was a child I’ve had a #dreamcatcher hung beside my bed. It protects me from my bad dreams. With all the horrors I see every day I’ve had to repair and upgrade it regularly. These nights, a thousand hooks and a steel fishing net strain to ensnare my nightmares.
She’d stopped trembling long ago. I held her tighter, until her skin froze to mine, until I too froze. Staring into her #sapphire blue eyes we dreamt of happier times. Glaciers ebbed and flowed before our long incarceration would end and we’d hunt in the sun again.
“Drop me a line,” he’d said and like a fool I had. He was my idol. Over the years I’d sent him so many letters without a single response. Now I know why.
“Please, #drop me a line,” he says. Mocking me.
I dropped the unopened letters into the pit. He’d read them now.
I still have my #mandolin. We’ve both seen better days. It only has two strings. I lost my dexterity long along with my calluses. My fingers are not what they were. My memory, however, is as keen as ever and just holding my pride and joy I can still hear its sweet music.
Sofia had such #verve. She loved to dance and she would dance everywhere. She was so full of life. Until five minutes ago. Until the accident that took her life. The thing is, she might be dead, but it hasn’t dampened her enthusiasm for dancing. She still dances even now.
“Son, back in the day, we’d #farm this entire valley. From the Redridge mountains down to Stormwind. Life was tough back then, working the fields night and day. But we were happy scratchin out a livin.”
“Dad, the graphics are rubbish!”
“Shut up, son and hit that Murloc!”
Professor Perry droned on for what seemed like an eternity. A glance at my watch confirmed the lecture was dragging. The #longueur continued for an age as if time itself had slowed. Until with a final flourish the Professor announced. “And that’s how we do time travel!”
