Day 151 Writing Short Stories

Mime

The frown between her eyebrows deepened under her wide-brimmed hat; she stuck her tongue out as she concentrated on what she was doing. Looping the thread through the eye of the needle took all her efforts, even when she was supposed to observe and teach her target.

She tilted her head towards the little alien with a needle and thread of its own. The creature was mimicking her movements exactly, even trying to frown and stick its green tongue between its bluish lips. Its nimble fingers easily looped the thread through the eye of the needle. It looped the thread in and out, waiting for her trembling hands to achieve the same thing.

She motioned for the creature to stick the needle into her skin. Her calf had a bleeding, open wound. This was her only shot at help. It had been a miracle that the alien creature had been there when she had injured herself. The creature tilted its head from left to right, blinking its huge disk-like eyes.

“Fuck, I just need you to stitch me back together and then I can try to limb out of this godforsaken place,” she gushed out, regretting her tone as the alien flinched away from her.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she hurried to say. “This is all new to me. And I’m not sure if I’m hallucinating you or not. I just want to go home, heal, eat, and take a shower. Is that too much to ask?”

The creature stopped, slowly crawling back to her. It stuck the needle in her leg as she motioned for it to do so. She had tried to do it herself, but she just couldn’t. She grimaced from the pain.

The alien withdrew its arm as her whole body tensed. It threw the needle and thread next to it on the sandy ground and lowered down to sniff her leg. It was as if it now realized that she was injured. She had been trying to explain that to it for the better part of the noon. The heat, the smell, and the blood hadn’t helped a thing.

The alien continued sniffing her leg, and then it stuck its green tongue out of its mouth and grabbed her leg tightly. She wailed, trying to make it stop, but the tiny creatures’ hold was too strong. The alien licked the wound, and she could feel its saliva burn her leg. She passed out.

When she woke up, she felt herself being dragged from her jacket. The sun was gone, and the stars were shining brightly in the sky. She glanced at her leg under the torn trousers, and the wound was not there. Not at least in the sense it had been when she passed out, there was a red raw spot where it had been, but that was it. No bleeding wound. Now visible cut line. Nothing. Just raw skin.

“Thanks,” she said.

There came a throat sound she had no idea what it meant. She took it as “No worries.”

Stuffed Giraffe

There is nothing like an office full of lawyers on a busy September day when all the heat from the summer has dissipated and a string of lawsuits has mounted. Everyone was buried deep in their computers, except her. It was her day out of kindergarten. She had brought her stuffed giraffe with her to her mother’s workplace to keep her company. She showed it to anyone who cared, climbing on their laps and telling them what kind of day the giraffe was having. It was a glorious adventure, she said. There was a giant injustice in the world, and the giraffe was fighting it like a superhero it was. She pointed with the stuffed animal, the law books, telling them to be its shield of justice. That always got a rise out of anyone whose lap she was sitting on. There always came laughter. She moved from lap to lap, spreading the message of the giraffe.

Drowning On Earth

He watched as another spaceship took off, knowing well what it meant when they ran out of ships. The line to the next one was long, and people were pushing to get in, trying to steal a place from those already admitted. He didn’t bother. The soldiers shot anyone who didn’t have a permit. The ditch next to the tarmac was littered with dead bodies. He didn’t blame them. He knew what desperation meant. It was gnawing at him inside out, too. He just didn’t see the point in trying. He had no gun, no golden tongue, and not deep enough pockets to force his way in.

When the ships were gone, he and the rest of them deemed invaluable, undeserving would be drowning on Earth. Only a few might survive, and there may be life on Earth, but the chances of him continuing the civilization were slim.

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

Yesterday, I watched a Reedsy panel where the guest speaker spoke about cinematic writing. It was an excellent discussion, opening my eyes to how to shift the camera’s eye view in writing. I tried playing with it using it on today’s prompts. I think I will continue testing it out, even with my books. It might be a trick to the stuck situations I have been having when I don’t know how to describe on paper what I am seeing with my mind’s eye. I can wholeheartedly recommend the video.

Thank you for reading! Keep learning stuff ❤