Day 184 Writing Short Stories

Sturdy

She had always been called sturdy, and then they would smile that smile again, and she would hate what they meant with it. Her body had never been hers. There had always been comments on it, even when she didn’t welcome it. They treated her based on the assumptions about the way she looked. More often than not, thinking she was slow, or that she didn’t like pretty things. She cursed the fact that she had a brain to know the difference. It would be easier if there were only the emotions and the hurt, but there were thoughts, and thoughts were trouble. They had gotten her in trouble, especially when she had punched them. And it had always been her fault, tallying up the score that she was a defect.

She walked onto the stage, feeling the past following her there. She cracked a smile, and the first woman sitting right by the stage crossed her arms and judged her from head to toe. Of course, she didn’t belong on the stage of a comedy club. What did she know about humor? Or for that matter, pain? She wasn’t sure where the woman thought she belonged. The answer always differed depending on whether they thought she was a dyke.

But there was only the pain and the humor that belonged with her mind and body. And she made damn sure they would laugh, so that she didn’t have to punch them.

Monarch

The queen heard as the crowd went silent when she stepped in. The king had been laid in an open casket so that the whole kingdom could give their respect. They thought she didn’t know why her husband lay dead. They thought she knew nothing about the state matters. They thought it was the prince who would succeed her husband. They thought wrong.

She knelt beside her husband and gave her respects. It was easy. She had loved him, and he her. But he had spoiled their son, and he knew nothing of the responsibility, of what it meant to rule. She would have to teach him before it was too late. Before she was dead, too.

The funeral was long and tedious. It was done by the proper protocol. It was done right. It was nothing, what the king would have wanted. He was more than a monarch; he was a warrior, he was a father, he was a jokester and poet, he was her husband, and once they had let their hair run free as they rode through the country.

Those days would be over for her. He had spared her the hardship of the crown. He had let her ride. He had let her dance and smile. Now there was a solemn expression on her face as the king’s last wishes were read. She watched the men who had poisoned her husband gasp as she was named as his successor. She watched her own son have a tantrum. She watched as they went quiet as she rose and took command. She watched them plan to get her killed. And she watched as the men loyal to her bowed and vowed their loyalty. Those same men, the king and she, had ridden with. There would be war inside the castle. But she would do him proud. She would take the crown and keep it until their son was ready.

Divorce

The other two ran too long, and I have to leave for work soon. This was about a divorced couple dealing with their joint duties.

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

I had no clue where the stories would go when I started writing today. I’m glad I managed to write today. I have had emotional turbulence for the last couple of days, and I’m trying to learn not to overthink everything. It is freaking hard. I’m pretty sure that this whole thinking part was a mistake. That we humans would be far better off without it. But it is what it is, and relearning old patterns and the habits from my childhood is part of becoming a functional human being. I just wish it would happen a lot easier and a lot more pain-free than this. Emotions are tricky, silly, necessary monsters that we have to carry within us.

Have a day full of clarity! Thank you for reading ❤