Day 162 Writing Short Stories

Sworn

He dropped down to his knees, clutching his chest. It felt like he was burning inside out, like someone was boiling him. He lifted his gaze to meet hers. His Queen. His commander. And he knew she knew his betrayal, that he hadn’t kept his sworn words.

She held her hand in the air, squeezing the thin air between her fingers, and the pain inside him got more searing. His sword dropped onto the ground. The one he had taken with him to kill her.

She snapped her fingers, and something inside him broke. He gushed out blood, collapsing on the ground.

“I’m sorry, my love, I cannot afford mercy. Not when he can turn someone like your heart against me. Someone who loved me.”

He barely heard her words. His head felt like it was swarming, and every heave brought more blood to his lips. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I know you are. You would have been if you had succeeded. But this is the price you must pay for breaking your vows.”

Advice

They looked deep into each other’s eyes, knowing what tomorrow brings. His grandma had sat them down, pouring tea. Now the woman was frowning and reading the leaves from their cups.

She was feeling nervous, not knowing what the old woman saw in the leaves. What their future would be after tomorrow’s wedding. There had been no doubt before, but the silence grew longer and the shadows around Grandma’s face deeper.

When the old woman finally hailed in, she was startled. So was he. He had sworn that it would be a good thing to let his grandma read their fortune. That she had done it for everyone in her family. And everyone was still happily married.

“I see, I see,” the woman said, and shook her head.

“What do you see?” she dared to ask.

“When she comes.” The old woman pointed at her stomach. “Make sure she visits me every week. I will teach her. Otherwise, she will turn bad.”

She drew her hand over her stomach. She wasn’t pregnant.

“Grandma?” he asked, squeezing her hand tighter, feeling how much she was afraid of the words.

“I mean it. She will go sour if you don’t bring her here. She will be the ruin of you two.”

“Grandma!” he demanded, standing up.

“I have said my piece. Now leave, or the roads will turn dangerous, and there is no wedding.”

CEO

Knitting CEO causing terror to his employees. I couldn’t find a story here. I barely got Advice done. It felt like a stroke of luck that it became what it did. It was about relatives giving advice before the wedding for a young couple.

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

Give me good ones. Fingers crossed. Oh fuck. Postponing writing because every prompt felt like a chore.

I’m happy that I got two out of three done, and they had some sense to them. But I still hope there would have been better ones. Ones that made writing feel like a flow through time and space.

Thank you for reading! Have a perfect day full of flow ❤