Day 47 Writing Short Stories

Birth

The shadows behind your eyes play a big role in what I have become. The dark patches that I took for kindness and friendship, for affection, were a lie. A lie that you happily let me believe. I hungrily, like a wolf, took in your words, burying the bones I thought would tie us together for years under my house. But you laughed at me, showing me in the end that I was nothing but a mongrel to amuse you when you needed entertainment.

But now watch my teeth; my long, sharp teeth with enduring white bones that are of a predator and not of a prey. I have stopped being a circus for you, and I have become the tamer, the master, the one that holds the sharp, leather whip; and my teeth, they hunger for those dark patches behind your eyes. I will bury those bones, and I will let your rot on the ground. No one will miss you. You are and were nothing.

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What fun to write. I’m not sure whether I should clarify what is to become, but I think you can guess pretty well. Today’s prompt was to be lyrical, mystery with rebirth done from a first-person point of view. I had fun playing with the concept, searching for words that fit the narrative so it would paint what is happening and how the protagonist is shaping up. Poor creature, though.

I have a sore neck and a sprained hamstring. I failed on a hard move on my boulder project and came down unexpectedly. Now things hurt. Have been hurting for a couple of days. It is what it is. I slept well last night. I dreamed of a big, big, hairy spider. I tried to conserve it, but then a man took it in his hand and accidentally dropped it, and all its innards sprayed onto the floor. I felt so bad for the spider. It didn’t deserve to die because of human stupidity. It was a beautiful, black-and-yellow, hairy hunter spider. Fictional one, as I googled the colors, and there are orb weavers in the same color, but not hairy hunter spiders ones that look like tarantulas. Oh, there might be black-and-yellow jumping spiders. Oh, I found a Malaysian Black and Gold Huntsman spider, but still not the one I dreamed about. Anyway, I love spiders. But they are easy to love here in Finland; none of them has the power to bite through my skin, however venomous they are. My climbing buddies hate it when I pick up spiders and talk to them.

Thank you for reading! Have a kind day ❤