Week 43 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 @kara_goughnour in June. I’ve taken some liberties with formatting simply because WordPress is not Twitter and to make it easier to read.
How do you like those onions? Yes, this week’s cover photo is of the onions we’re growing. Which, unlike several other vegetables appear to be doing rather well. The less said about the spring onions the better. It’s been another week of madness, with a lot of people deciding to hit the beaches all at the same time. I’m starting to think a more useful test would be for the elusive good old British common sense. Especially given that it appears to be such a cornerstone of the government’s Coronavirus strategy. My guess is there’s more Covid rampant in the populace than common sense at this point. And in Brexit news … well, I refer to my previous point, common sense is very much in demand.
I’ve been busy this week writing a cyberpunk-themed short story for an upcoming collaborative anthology. Having read through half of the drafts for the other stories I’m in awe of both the imagination and different writing styles of the other writers. It’s a great exercise. I was hoping to have my story wrapped up by Friday, but it’s taking me a little longer. Next week I’m hoping for a bit of a break although I’ve agreed to submit for another sci-fi themed short story with an interesting premise.
The first sign that I had contracted MEH was a general malaise. Within a few days, it had developed into a generalised #velleity. Familiar enjoyable actions no longer held any interest for me. A fortnight later it had progressed into terminal apathy and I struggled to …
The locals feared the perpetual mists of the #submontane forest. Legend had it that trolls still lived up there in the deep dark caves. Anyone who sat and considered those swirling clouds could be in little doubt that something monstrous moved in the mountain’s shadow.
Halfway through the voyage, on the anniversary of the colony ship’s departure, Dan sat in class.
A hand went up. “Are you really #tellurian?”
“Yes. The last,” said Dan.
“You walked on Earth?”
“Under blue skies,” Dan nodded. “Just as one day you’ll walk under green skies.”
The suspension bridge had once defined the city, boldly stretching out across the bay’s turbulent waters. It was said it took seven years to paint from end to end. It would only take nature three years to turn its red paintwork to a #rubiginous brown and the bay to sand.
Awaking from another nightmare, I clutch the jade necklace you gave me. I know now why I never dream of #verdant forests or azure seas. The mystery of my uniformly sepia dreamscape finally revealed. Its muted palette matching the muted world of my precognitive visions.
As a teenager, I suffered from terrible acne. Luckily, having a witch for an Aunt I could always find a potion in her boudoir. As I did after one particularly bad flare-up. Every night I would #slather on the lotion. My acne disappeared overnight. As did I, for six years!
The lush #viridity of the forest could be beguiling to those unfamiliar with its dangers. It was surprisingly easy to get lost within its ever-changing green expanse. Business was business, though. “That’ll be $52 for the map and provisions. Y’all be careful now.”