Day 301 Writing Short Stories

Wooden

The wooden door stood there in the middle of the forest. It hung from nothing. The forest seemed to wrap around it. She stared at it in disbelief. Her camera hung from her neck as she tried to figure out how the joke had been made.

She had been hiking all day, taking photos in the forest for her blog. She had been here dozens of times, and she had never seen the door before.

She took a step closer and stopped. The door felt wrong. The space around it felt heavy and sluggish, and all her senses told her to run. But senses and thoughts weren’t her strong suit. She took a step closer, refusing to believe any of the superstitions her mother, sister, and grandmother believed. She refused to spit over her shoulder to ward off any evil spirits hanging around.

She reached her hand toward the doorknob and pulled it open. And nothing. The open door showed the same forest beyond it. She took a step closer, feeling a pull to step through. Again, her senses told her not to. Told her to ward off anything evil, but she didn’t. She walked through the open door, and nothing. The forest was the same. She was the same.

She spent the rest of the day shooting in the forest, and when the sun was setting, she headed back along the familiar trail home. She walked down the narrow paths as she always did. All the cars that had been there at the beginning of the day were gone from the open field, where people usually left them to take hikes in the massive forest. She thought nothing of it. She had to be the last one. She had walked here. So she continued down the path to the small town next to the nature reserve.

The trek was short and easy. She had walked it thousands of times. But the city seemed farther than it normally was. By this time, the light should have been lit; they should have gleamed in the distance, but there was just the darkness. The world was darker than it usually was. She searched for the road that sped past the cow pastures she took to home, but she couldn’t find it. She continued up the hill and stopped at the top. The town wasn’t there. There was just a small cluster of old wooden buildings. Some dark. Some lit by candlelight.

She swallowed and looked back at the forest. It looked strange. It looked wilder. More dark. More like nothing she had seen before.

Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.

She bit her lips and looked around. She was sure she was exactly where she was meant to be. She had grown up in these parts. Her home should be right there at the root of the small hill she now stood on. But there was just a small wooden cabin.

Suitcase

A man left his suitcase on the train. He is able to retrieve it. When he opens it at home, he finds it’s not his. The suitcase is full of money. I skipped this one. It would take too long to write the prompt before work.

Kitten

He cast the spell that was to vanquish his enemies, to turn them into maggots to be stomped on, but as he let the words out, he could feel his body convulsing. His wizard robes dropped off him, and he soon found himself swimming in them. He let out a pathetic meow.

MEOW?!!

He lifted his hand, and it was small, furry, and black. He let out a scream that came out as another meow. Then another, and another.

The floor shook, and he looked up to see his enemy approaching. It was that horrible witch who had made his life miserable. She should be a maggot, but no, no, no! The spell had worked in reverse.

“What do we have here?” The woman doubled over him. She drew him into her hands and brought him to her eye level.

“Aren’t you a cute one! Where’s your master, little one?” she asked.

He cursed her into eternal damnation, all coming out as short meows.

She wrinkled her nose at him and pressed him close to her bosom. That shut him down. It was a strange feeling. She smelled pretty good and was warm and nice. And as she scratched him absent-mindedly behind his ear, it felt good. So, so good. He found himself purring.

“Don’t worry, little fellow. I won’t leave you here with the stupid, horrible wizard,” the witch said. “You can be my familiar.”

He let out a soft purr.

“You like that?” She scratched him under his chin, and it was the best feeling he had ever experienced. He wasn’t quite sure anymore why he had hated her so much. There had been a good reason. He was sure of that. He always had good reasons, but now they all seemed to slip from his mind.

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

To be honest, now the enormity of hitting the 300 mark is dawning on me. I found it hard to start any of the stories. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t get any writing done, but once I got started with the Kitten story, the words just came out, and I didn’t have to think that much, and with that momentum, the wooden one got written as well.

Now, I’m off to work.

Thank you for reading ❤ Have a spell-bound day!