Day 202 Writing Short Stories

Belief

My life would have turned out differently if the reality hadn’t stretched as it did. I had a pretty normal childhood. You know, family, bike, friends, and unremarkable disposition. All good. All fine. I could have become a corporate lawyer or an unemployed dreamer if it hadn’t been for that day and that book opening my third eye. Then there was no question of belief. There was certainty that the lines between what was seen and not seen were not as simple as they said them to be.

Once you see the dead and the undead, and they see you, things get interesting, to say the least. It is not so much the seeing part that gets you. Some people can do that. You would call them sensitive or lunatics, depending on your own beliefs. It is the to be seen part that is the tricky thing. Not by the dead, but by the undead, or as I might stretch a bit, by the demons.

There are bad things out there that don’t look kindly on you if you see them doing what they are not supposed to do. They don’t like when you see them carry around a flesh suit and pretend to be senators or doctors or actors. They really don’t like it if you see past their glamor. It’s a matter of life and death, and they are more than willing to hurt you.

Luckily, there are others like me who can see them do and who fight back. Some belong to the church. I’m not one of those. I’m an independent contractor, and I hell don’t know what to believe.

Forest

The last rays of the sun vanished from the forest canvas. She stood there watching as the twilight took over every inch, turning the tree lines darker, muddying the sounds of the forest, turning everything more dreamlike. This place was her heart, her soul. Here, her mind rested. It knew what was real and what wasn’t. It wasn’t those majestic concrete buildings. It was not the glass temples. It was not the paved roads. It was the eerie quiet in the twilight, when the night animals came to be, and the day was put to rest. Here, every root, every branch, every leaf was for nourishment. Here, sanity existed in the insane world. But it was only the scarce moment that she got to exist here, in her peace. Here, darkness was not scary. Here, darkness had a meaning.

She listened as a branch snapped. Whatever went there, went by their laws, by their nature, and she was just a passing curiosity in their existence. It was as it should be.

Pastry-Chef

A law student pursues a career as a pastry chef, but she doesn’t know how to cook.

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

I’m so happy I managed to write today, even though I had an early morning. My cat helped me to write. He napped on my lap the whole time, keeping an eye on my work. I saw a video yesterday where a woman posted about finding a soul mate, and there was this fluffy cat that gave her cuddles. I know what she meant. I feel so blessed to have my cats in my life, especially him. It feels like we fit together. There was this instant love between us. I remember when they were just kittens, and we went to see them. They climbed onto my lap, then up and inside my coat. They were so tiny then. Now they are 15 years old, yet it still feels like they just arrived in my life. My little muses.

Thank you for reading ❤ Have a lovely day!