Day 157 Writing Short Stories

Path

That path, it coiled there in the darkness, inside her chest. It twisted its roots deeper into her soul, pulling and pushing her. The arduous breathing made the ache dull, constant. She was ready to let go and let the deep, coldness swallow her. She imagined all the monsters in the abyss reaching for her. She let them have her, inviting them to devour her body, her soul.

They didn’t come. They let her live. They had their cabalistic purpose for her.

She was to emerge, to find her way to the surface, and once she did. She would release them upon the innocent, the guilty, the deprived. They were hungry, and she was their key.

She was their coward, unable to do what must be done. If she were able to weep, she would have her tears for the horror and pain she brought with her, but there were no tears left, just the dull ache of who she had been and how it mattered no more.

She was death herself. She was torture. She was apocalypse.

Deployed Parent

Teenage Girl

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

I didn’t feel like writing these prompts. As soon as I saw them, I thought, ‘No, I don’t want to do this.’ I don’t want to twist some werewolf or supernatural aspect into them to make me want to write about a teenage girl or a conversation between a deployed parent and their child. I know they would be good exercises. There’s that, but today I could bother pushing through.

But I’m happy that I was able to play with the first prompt and have fun with it.

Thank you for reading! I wish upon you all the dark, strange things to spark up your day ❤