Day 113 Ruminating And Writing

Dove

The dove rose high upon the burning kingdom, released from the remaining tower. He lifted his hand, and his men stopped their attack. It was the sign he had been waiting for days now. The old bastard had been too stubborn to surrender. He would rather have sacrificed all his subjects than have let himself hang. The old kook had changed his mind in the end, or he was already dead. That happened to kings who got too greedy.

He waited for the sign of surrender until he marched his men inside the gates.

Granddaughter

The red bike shone in the afternoon light. It was a cherry red bike with big white wheels. The little girl let out a loud giggle. He watched her granddaughter beam with pride. It was her first bike. Thus far, she had gotten hand-me-downs from her bigger sisters. But this was just for her. He had bought it just for her, and he was going to teach his granddaughter to ride it.

Stranded

There was nothing but fields for the eye to see. He had been stranded in the middle of nowhere, and it had started to rain. The night was going to fall soon. He had no clue where he was. He could be anywhere in the world. His mission was to survive and find a way to report back to headquarters that he had done so.

In the distance, a wolf howled. The landscape looked European, meaning… fuck… meaning werewolves and vampires. He looked up at the sky, but the clouds covered it. He wasn’t sure if it was a full moon or not. He wasn’t sure what day it was. They had kept him in isolation for days. One thing was sure. He would have to get off the open road and soon. He patted his jacket pocket, and it was empty. There was nothing for him to use. He took a calm, calculated look around the landscape, reading how the trees aligned next to the fields. He knelt down and pressed his hand on the road, watching how it had worn out.

He took the road south in hopes of finding a village. From the nearest tree, he pulled a branch free and started peeling it sharp as he walked down the road in the rain, listening even to the slightest alteration in the air.

This was it. There was no calling a taxi to pick him up, or telling the headquarters that he had changed his mind, that he didn’t want to be a monster hunter.

The Prompts are from the book A Year of Creative Writing Prompts.

When I saw the prompts, I was ready to give up. I was sure I could write only one of them. I’m happy that I came up with an idea for every single one. I’m pleased that Stranded turned into a monster hunter initiation. The story had already played out entirely in my head, rolling like a movie. Some stories do that from the get-go.

Thank you for reading ❤ I wish you a fantastic day! BTW. It’s raining here. I love when it rains.