Category Archives: Writing

I used to make a joke that my parents gave so much creativity to my older sister, who turned out to become a writer, that I got just a enough to allow me to be a translator and write well, but without actually creating the stories.
In this blog I’m trying to change this and make my creativity grow.

Bainbridge Invitational

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This is her first competition ever. She’s been training in the Jump Rope team for a few months and now it’s the time to show what she has learned.
The competition is in Bainbridge Island, on the same day as her little sister’s best friend’s birthday party.
She goes with mom only then. Daddy will take her sister to the party.
To take the ferry on the day of they’ll have to get up so early, so they take an evening ferry the night before.
The view of Seattle is nice, with the Big Wheel all colorful.
Dinner at a restaurant, then hotel to get some rest.
This is the big day!
She wakes up, mom braids her hair and off they go.
She participates in 5 heats, in both speed and freestyle.
She’s not too fast.
She does a few cool tricks in the freestyle, but would that be enough?
Turns out it’s not. No medals today.
Her eyes are filled with tears…
Next time…

This post was written for the FFfAW Challenge – 178th, hosted by Priceless Joy.

The picture this week (at the right) was provided by Ted Strutz ans shows one the Washington State Ferries. I’ve been many times on those ferries and for the past 3 years at least once we go to Bainbridge Island for my daughter’s jump rope competition.

So the story is not really fiction today, as I tried to tell the story of her first competition ever.

The picture at the top was taken by me, from the ferry, the night before that first ever competition, on our way to Bainbridge.

To see more entries for the prompt, click on the blue frog below:

 

Update: I decided to add translations to my texts. This is the first translated post and I’ll be adding more as translations become available. To get to the translations, I’ll add a link like the below pointing to it. Enjoy!
Portuguese version: Competição em Bainbridge

Hansel and Gretel

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He escaped from prison long ago and since then have been living in the woods.
His crime?
Abuse and cannibalism.
Police went crazy trying to find him, but the woods were so tight that he was able to hide well enough.

Last year a new house was built at the edge of the woods.
A house with adventurous kids.

The kids would explore the woods from time to time.
A boy and a girl, like Hansel and Gretel.
They were thin and tiny.
He watched from his hideout.
Peering from the woods.

Someday they would be big and plump…

 

This post was witten in reponse to the August 9: Flash Fiction Challenge, hosted by Carrot Ranch.

It’s been a while that I don’t write. Life has been busy and creativity not being exercised. Hopefully I’ll find some more time, but no promises here….

As for the theme I chose within the prompt suggestion… well I’ve been reading lots of horror literature…
Hope you enjoy this tiny treat. ;o)

Version in Portuguese: João e Maria

 

Glowworms

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They grew tired of the dark and decided to move out.

The members of the first expedition didn’t survive. They didn’t know how to catch food in the outside bright world. A few members were able to report back, but died shortly after.

They needed an adaptation strategy.

They thought of different possibilities, but it was no use. All they knew was to glow and grow.
Glow a beautiful light to attract prey and grow webs to catch them.
But how to do that on a world already full of light?

Then they had the idea of disguising as art…

This post was written in response to the Friday Fictioneers of January 5th 2018.

The photo prompt is courtesy of Roger Bultot.

To see more entries inspired by the picture, click the blue frog below:

Portuguese version: Glowworms

When looking closely at the picture, seeing that each tube had different sizes, the image came to my mind of the glowworms that exist in the depths of some caves in Australia, and decided to write about them.

Image cropped from original, that has a CC license with attribution: By No machine-readable author provided. Markrosenrosen assumed (based on copyright claims). [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY-SA 4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

As per Wikipedia:

Fungus gnats[edit]

Three genera of fungus gnats are bioluminescent, and known as “glowworms” in their larval stage. They produce a blue-green light.[1] The larvae spin sticky webs to catch food. They are found in caves, overhangs, rock cavities, and other sheltered, wet areas. They are usually classified under the family Keroplatidae, but this is not universally accepted and some authors place them under Mycetophilidae instead. Despite the similarities in function and appearance, the bioluminescent systems of the three genera are not homologous and are believed to have evolved separately.[2][3][4]

Genus Arachnocampa – around five species found only in New Zealand and Australia. The most well-known member of the genus is the New Zealand glowworm, Arachnocampa luminosa. The larvae are predatory and use their lights to lure prey into their webs.[5]

Genus Orfelia – sometimes known as “dismalites”. Contains a single species, Orfelia fultoni, found only in North America. Like Arachnocampa spp., their larvae are predatory and use their lights to attract prey.

Genus Keroplatus, – found in Eurasia. Unlike Arachnocampa and Orfelia, the larvae of Keroplatus feed on fungi spores.[6]Their bioluminescence is believed to have no function and is vestigial.[2]

Feeling it

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Since she was a little child, she enjoyed feeling the wind hit her face. Any breeze or stronger wind, she’d run outside, stretch her arms and open up her chest in order to feel the moving air touching her skin, making her hair dance, cleansing her.

Then one day, out of a sudden she realized she couldn’t feel it anymore. How could this be happening?

She decided to put up wind mills, and turbines, and chimes. She was desperate, so she kept adding stuff in her backyard that could help her feel the wind again.

She could see it now. And hear it too. But still no feeling it on her face.

One day, a hurricane came. She didn’t think twice. As soon as the deadly winds hit her house, she went outside and spread her arms again to receive it. She floated away, flying freely and happily for finally being able to feel the wind again.

No one ever saw her again, but now every time the wind picks up speed she’s remembered as the wind girl, and her tale is told while people snuggle safely inside.

This post was written in response to the Sunday Photo Fiction – December 31st 2017, with photo courtesy of Jules Paige.
For more posts inspired by the picture, click the blue frog below.

Portuguese version: Sentindo

Crane

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“Did you see the crane fall at the marina?”
“A crane fell in the marina? No! I haven’t heard of it. Oh my gosh!”
“Yeah, it was sort of sad. Funny too.”
“Funny??!!! How could you see funny on such a tragedy?! A crane falling is a huge deal! Did anyone got hurt?”
“Hurt??? Heck no! Well, maybe the crane, but it didn’t really look like… Pretty sturdy guy.”
“Are you serious? Not only you think it’s funny, but now you make jokes?”
“What are you talking about? It was just a bird falling after a bad take off flight. No big deal. It was not even flying high. No one was around it. Why does this need to be so tragic for you?”
“Wait a minute… A bird? A crane bird?”
“Yes. You know… Big thin legs, long curvy neck…”
“Oh! Hehe. Oops. Sorry, I thought it was a construction crane…”

This post was written in response to the FFfAW Challenge-Week of January 2, 2018 , with photo courtesy of J.S. Brand.
For more posts inspired by the picture, click the blue frog below.

Portuguese version: Grua

High school sweethearts

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It was their Senior year in high school.

Prom night was coming and that’s when they were planning to give themselves to each other in full.

The chosen place was a treehouse at the backyard of an abandoned house.

Although shabby on the outside, the inside looked like a fairytale.

He lays her down gently at the mattress.

When things start to get hot, he remembers he forgot the condoms at the car.

He goes to the car, opens the glove compartment, and presses the button of a little remote control.

Kaboom!

Amongst shrapnel and wood chips, she rains around him in bits and pieces of flesh and blood.

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #7.

The rules for contest for this week it to “write a flash fiction in 109 words, no more, no less and weave a murderous vibe through an every-day setting, either in thought or deed.”

The image that came to my mind as inspiration was the last one in the story, then I wrote a story around it to fit. Originally I thought it would be a 299 word story, which allowed me to add many more details. Those details are gone, but I guess the shorter version ended up pretty nice too.

The winner for this contest was announced today at the Carrot Ranch.

Congratulations to Marjorie Mallon!

Good job to all the participants!

 

Portuguese version: Primeiro amor

Desert tough

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He was lost in the desert, dehydrating and hungry.

Cacti was tempting with their water reserve, but the thorns were so tough!

He was about to give up when he came across a baby cactus with small thorns, that would pierce his skin just lightly.

With his thirst finally quenched, he walked onward until he found a rattlesnake.

Snakes were his most dreaded animal – hideous, scary things!

The viper was on him, looking intensely, about to pounce.

Heart racing, he was faster and before she closed her fangs onto his skin, he grabbed her and had a bite, satisfying his hunger.

He was now the Snake Eater…

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #6.

To enter the contest this week we had to do it in 2 steps. First, we had a couple of days to sign up to it. Then, a 2-word name of a bucking bull would be drawn for each contestant, which would then have another couple of days to come up with a 107-word 8-sentence history that included the 2 words of the bull’s name. And the theme was to be a fictional story about someone facing a challenge or a fear.

I liked the title of my bull and decided to keep the words together in the same order, so I created a story to go around it.

The winner for this contest was announced yesterday at the Carrot Ranch.

Congratulations to Kerry E.B. Black!

Good job to all the participants!

 

Portuguese version: Sobrevivendo

To call or not to call?

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1

She used to be proud.

He said he would call her, so she would wait, but never call him before he made the promised call.

A day passed and no word from him. 2 days, 3, 4…. She has hurt, thinking he didn’t care.

She meets a friend at the mall, who asks about him. She says they’re not together anymore.

A few more days pass and a common friend calls her asking about it and saying he heard the ‘news’ from someone else and was very hurt himself.

She calls him and decides never to be proud again.

 

2

Many years pass and she’s on a relationship with someone else.

She has never forgotten the lesson from her past. Never forgiven herself for having hurt her first love.

So, she’s still living by the rule of not being proud, and even if her new current love said he’d call, if it takes too long, she just goes ahead and calls him herself.

A bit too much on his opinion, tough.

He gets tired. He says the spark is gone.  She’s too pushy, too much, too insisting. Sort of suffocating…

They break up. And humiliated, she’s hurt once again.

 

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #4.

The rules for contest #4 are to write 2 chapters of 99-words each (198 words total), telling a story that shows a scar. It can be memoir, other forms of creative non-fiction,  any genre of fiction or a BOTS (based on a true story).

This one is based on a true story. The first part at least. The second is fiction, as it never really happened, although it portraits a very real fear…

The winner for this contest was announced yesterday at the Carrot Ranch.

Congratulations to D. Wallace Peach!

Good job to all the participants!

 

Portuguese version: Ligar ou não ligar?

The Dark Priestesses

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Their lord was captured by the priestesses of the Dark Sect.
She couldn’t let them have him. He was a good soul and needed to be saved.

She got her sword, mounted the mare and whistled for her companion dog.
In a minute they were flying through the woods, avoiding the branches and roots, trying to find the hidden shrine of the dark priestesses.

It wasn’t easy.
The woods were dark and very dense. Riding amongst its trees wasn’t a smooth ride.
Sometimes it also felt like they were going in circles. Maybe they were indeed.
And on top of it all, there was powerful dark magic protecting the shrine from being discovered.

But they needed keep trying.
His life was at risk and the villagers needed him.

She summoned her own Gods to help her on her quest. Hoping they’d help.

After two days riding, stopping only briefly to eat, and having had almost no sleep, the dog sniffed the air and started to bark and howl.
The mare panicked and wouldn’t go on.
She could also feel it. They were getting close.

She tethered the mare at a nearby tree and called the dog to come with her.

As they walked towards the force emanating from the trees, she became weak, her mind was going blank, but she was still struggling. She had to be strong to safe her lord.

After a few minutes of very hard walk, they came to clearing, where the priestesses were standing in a circle, with her lord tied up in the middle, subjugated, kneeling at the center, his head down.

She only had time to hear the spell before passing out herself.

 

Goddess of

the unliving!

 

I proclaim

this person

to your

eternal service,

on death.

 

Her lord was deceased…

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #3, hosted by Carrot Ranch.

The challenge today was to write a piece of fiction of about 200-300 words, that included a septolet as a spell or a charm.

Initially I though only the septolet would be required and crated the one above naming is “Verborragic Avada Kedavra”. But it was only once the rules were posted, and I leaned it should be in the middle of a story, that I created the story around it to go with it.

The winner for this contest was announced yesterday at the Carrot Ranch.

Congratulations to Deborah Lee!

Good job to all the participants!

 

Portuguese version: Sacerdotisas do Mal

Phone

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Ring, ring! Ring, ring! Ring, ring!

“What’s that? Is it the alarm clock? In the middle of the afternoon? Why?”

“No, that’s not the alarm clock. That’s the phone.”

“The phone? But I thought phones vibrated and played some sort of music… What kind is it then? Not Android for sure… Oh I know! It must be Windows Phone! Windows Phones are so rare to find that maybe this is why I don’t recognize the ring…”

“No! It’s not a Windows Phone, nor an Android or iPhone or any of those. We’re at grandma’s, remember? She does not have a smart phone. It’s just an old land line phone.”

“Land line? Land? What do you mean? Why land? And where did she put it that I can hear it so loud?”

“Land line because the voice travels through a metal wire or optical fiber that is “landed”. Not cellular radio waves. But I guess she has the ring on max volume so she can hear it from other rooms. It stays fixed in the living room. By the sofa. Haven’t you ever noticed it?”

“No, the only thing I remember by the sofa is that antique calculator kind-a-thing, with the numbers on a dial but no display to show the result. I actually never understood how it worked though…”

“Calculator??? Really?! That’s the phone!!!”

“The phone???!!! But it does not look like one! There is not even a touch screen. Actually there’s no screen at all. How do we install apps on it? And how to get SMS?”

“We don’t, dummy! Old phones are only for speaking. Just voice calls. No apps, no internet, no images. Just voice.”

“Oh!… Really? So where does grandma makes her grocery lists then?… On no! Don’t tell me she uses PAPER!!!”

“Oh boy….”

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #2.

The rules for this one are to try to be funny. The story needs to be 299 words long (give or take 9 words) and is supposed to “raise a grin, trigger a giggle, release a chuckle, generate a guffaw, give life to a groan”.

This one was the one I saw as the hardest, as I have a hard time being funny on purpose. Then the day before the challenge was posted, I was writing for a daily prompt and realized the text I had just created could fit this contest, so I refrained myself from publishing for the prompt so I could enter it here. Not sure if was funny enough, but I decided to give it a try anyways ;o)

The winner was announced yesterday on Carrot Ranch Blog and this week’s great prize went to Colleen Chesbro with “The Bus Stop”.

Congrats to Colleen and well done to all of the participants.

When I Grow Up

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“When I grow up I want to be an astronaut!
I want to go up in the sky, travel the universe and make friends from out of this world.
They’ll be fun, with their green skin, long antennae and several eyes.
Or else, or else…
Their loooooooong skinny body and big head with 2 black eyes.
Or else, or else…
Their slimy grayish and gross slug-like shape
Or else, or else…”

“How about with their proportional body, brown eyes and blond curly hair?”

“Yes! That one too!
Wait!… That sounds like my friend Kevin.
Oh…… Is he an alien too????”

 

This post was written for the Flash Fiction Rodeo Contest #1.

The rules for contest #1 was that we tried to go back in time to when we were 6 years old and remember what we wanted to be when we grew up. The size of the text should be of 100 words only.

To be honest, when I was little, I actually wanted to be a dressmaker, then later I switched to either tennis of volleyball player.

So no, I never really wanted to be an astronaut, but I had friends who did, so I used their ambition rather than mine, since it seemed cooler… ;o)

The results for the contest were published yesterday, and the winner was Hugh Roberts, with and awesome entry of a boy who wants to be Santa. See here the winner’s announcement post with his entry and some other picks.

Congrats Hugh! And well done everyone!

The law of attraction

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I attract to my life whatever I give my attention, energy and focus to, whether positive or negative.
– Michael Losier

at high school

“Hi, your sister is at the Catholic University, right? So is my brother. That’s so cool. I guess I’ll try to get there to. How about you?”

“No! No way I’m going to that University. It’s full of snob spoiled rich kids. Yak! Nah. I’ll try the public universities. I want to be with the masses. I’ll NEVER go to the Catholic University!”

four years later…

“Hey, you made it here at the Catholic University too??!!! I though you said you didn’t want to come here…”

” Yeah I know. They were the only ones offering the course I wanted. But I’m loving it!”

at the University, studying to be a translator

“Hi. I heard that localization company is hiring trainees. I’m gonna try. Are you trying too? They’re the best!”

“Localization?? No, that’s boring. I don’t want to spend my days sitting at an office in downtown translating click here, click there. I want to translate novels, work from home on my pjs, and doing super cool books. No, I’ll NEVER be a localizer!”

a few years later…

“Thanks for accepting our offer to work on our localization firm.”

a few more years later…

“Dear you, please find attached the offer to work on our software development company, as a localizer of our biggest product.”

back at the University

“Hi my daughter, how was your day at the University? Made any new friends? Is the translation department close to the engineering one? Oh… It would be so good of you married a nice engineer….”

“Marry an engineer? Eww, mom! No way. Dad is enough of engineer in my life. Nah, nah. I’ll NEVER marry an engineer!”

a few years later…

“Miss Localizer, do you take Mister Engineer be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love, honor and obey, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?

“I do!”

a few more years later…

“Hello Localizers team. This meeting is to announce that we won’t be having in-house localizers anymore. So from now on, your titles and jobs are changing to be of Engineer.”

moral of the story:

Never say never.
The law of attraction does not care if you say yay or nay. It will bring you whatever you spend energy thinking too much about…

This post was written based on the prompt The law, from Writer Write’s October prompts.

The image has a Creative Commons license and is attributed to h koppdelaney, and was modified just to add a border.

Unwritten

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“Oh boy. I’m so happy that we’re together. I’ve been dreaming about you for a long time. So how about dinner tomorrow night.”

“That’d be awesome, but tomorrow I can’t, sorry.”

“Oh, ok. Why not? Family event?”

“Not really. Tomorrow I’ll be having dinner with my boyfriend.”

“What? What do your mean? I am your boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are too. One of them.”

“One of them??? What do you mean one of them? You can not have more than one boyfriend!”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not right. It’s not accepted.”

“Awnnn… you’re jealous! But that’s ok, honey, I love you too. As much as I love the others.”

“The otherSSSSS????? Others? In the plural? How many boyfriends you have?”

“With you? 4 now.”

“4??? Oh my gosh, girl. Are you kidding me? You can’t have 4 boyfriends. Or 3, or even 2. You gotta have only one!”

“Why?”

“Well…. because you just can’t! That’s how it is! Man, you’re crazy!”

“Yes, baby. I’m crazy for you. So dinner day after tomorrow then?”

“What? Of course not! I love you. I love you deeply, but I want you to be mine and mine only. That’s how it should be with anyone.”

“Nah. I won’t take it like that. If there is a real written rule, you show me. If not, then I make my own rules for my own life.”

“Argh! Ok then. You know what? You’re back to 3 boyfriends now. Bye!”

“Oh boy. One more lost because of the unwritten stupid rule….”

This post was written based on the prompt Unwritten, from Writer Write’s October prompts.

BFF

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Her best friend has moved to a different country, on another continent, at the other end of the ocean.
She passes by the beach and stops to look at that immense mass of water.
She squints her eyes trying to see her friend.
But it’s no use, her friend is too far…

This post was written in response to Sacha Black’s Writespiration #136 52 weeks in 52 words, week 41 and also to today’s prompt BFF from Writer Write’s October prompts.

In the Writespiration prompt we’re supposed to say what happens next, after the picture. I wrote instead about what was happening at that very moment.

Angels

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She saved my life.

She found me laying naked at the woods behind her neighborhood. I was cold and feverish. My back was hurt. 2 big cuts near my shoulder blades.
I had no idea of who, where, when and why I was. My mind was completely blank.
They said it was amnesia and she took care of me. Like a guardian angel.

My memory never came back, but I learned to love her. And she loved me too.
We got married and were very happy. Then she got sick.

It was my turn now to care for her. I did all I could to make her feel better and comfortable at her illness. I gave my life to her. I stopped working, ate just a little, slept lightly so I could hear her calls. It was her turn to call me her guardian angel.

But after some time, her body gave in and she drifted away.
At that very moment I felt a sharp pain on my back, right at the scars near my shoulder blades. The scars opened up and from within something came up.
Wings!
And with the wings, the memory of being sent from heaven to care for her on her illness that was already invisibly starting then.

I looked up and saw her spectral form, reaching her hands to me, calling me to go.
I fluttered my wings and off we went.
Together again, until my next call to earth.

This post was written based on the prompt Angels, from Writer Write’s October prompts.
‘Angels’ was actually the theme for October 1st, but today I decided to switch as I couldn’t come up with nothing worth writing for today’s theme: Rehab. I’ll keep trying and may publish it later (or not ;o)

The Fire Whisperer

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No one knows how the fire started, and even how it stopped. Everything happened too fast.

The village was quiet that night. Not many people on the streets at that late hour. Except by Brandy Brady, the town’s official drunk. The bar had been closed for almost 2 hours, but Brady was still wandering around, talking to the wind, even on that still night.

Then the houses were suddenly set ablaze. First one, then the next, and the next, until the fire had spread throughout the entire village and all the houses became a huge pyre.

People were awekening amidst the flames and trying to escape their houses as not to be burnt alive. It was so fast that by the time the fire department was notified and came, all was finished and consumed by the fire.

No one saw him, except again Brady, but later no one would believe him.

He was sitting at a bench at the other side of the road that circled the village, looking at the fire in deep concentration. His lips moving slightly, as if he could speak with the fire and control it. The flames ran fast bringing everything down with them, turning all to ashes. When they reached the road, right in front of his bench, they went down. Immediately. As if someone had cut the gas on a gas stove.

He got up and walked away.

This post was written based on the prompt Fire, from Writer Write’s October prompts.

Phones

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When I was a teenager, there were no cell phones. We had a landline at home. Just one. Our phone had wires. But not those long ones that you could bring to other rooms. So when in the phone we had to be either in the living room or at my parents bedroom.

At that time there were no computers and little devices with social media. The few computers we would see had old pre-windows systems, with no graphics and a very slow processing speed.

It wasn’t as easy to communicate, you’d say. But we did, and I guess we did well.

I’d be hours on the phone with my friends. Talking about any and everything. I knew them well and they knew me well, even if we didn’t get to know every step each other took, every restaurant we ate at, and how many electronic friends we had.

We were friends. Simply. And we talked. On a time when phones were for talking indeed.

Today I have a smart phone. Can’t live without it. I use it for facebook, instagram, pinterest, kindle, untappd, seesaw, classdojo, linkedin. I also make my grocery lists on it! And take pictures with it! I also chat very quickly and cryptically with people via whatsapp, messenger, skype.*

Oh! And I can also even talk to people!
Wait…
When have been the last time I actually used my phone to talk to someone? Have a real conversation, talk about life’s problems and blessings, tell jokes, tease, flirt?….
hum… let me try to remember…….

This post was written based on the prompt Phones, from Writer Write’s October prompts.

I almost didn’t publish this one today.
To be honest I didn’t like it much. Mostly because it sounds like a statement, and I don’t necessarily agree with what it says.
Yes, there is some truth in it, but I guess the point is a bit exaggerated and fails to see the good things about the smart phones and new communication methods.

But… I didn’t want to skip today, and well, I had a piece written already… So why not make it public? ;o)

* all the brand names used here are trademarks of their respective owners.

Feathers

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As a kid, his favorite dish was fried chicken.
The crunchiness of the outside followed by the tender juicy meat on the inside.

Then he set up his mind that when he grew up he’d raise chicken just to be able to eat them everyday.

On his 15th birthday, he got his first chicken.
It was a gift from his grandaddy, who made him promise he would not eat that one.
Ever.
He could eat her eggs if he liked (and he did like eggs!), but never her meat.
She’d have to live as long as she would last and then be buried in the backyard, next to the coop.

He made his promise and took the chicken home with him.

Three years later, after graduating from high school, he started his business. He bought himself a lots of chickens, build a coop and start raising them to eat and sell.

But the more he eat them, the more he wanted.

And that was what broke him. He stopped selling, so he would consume them all. But his hunger was insatiable, and he ate them faster than they were able to reproduce.

Eventually all was left was him, an almost empty coop and the aging first hen.

He made a promise to his granddaddy though.
So no, not her.
She was to die naturally and be buried.

Another month has passed and with no money and no other chickens, he started to starve. He still had some eggs from the hen, but they were not enough. He became feverish and delirious.

One night, he got up in the middle of the night, not completely awaken, but very determined on his goal. He left the house, went to the coop and took her. It was stronger than him. He worked all night in preparing her and, came morning, he had the best breakfast of his entire life.

It was also the last one.

Right after taking the last thread of the juicy meat, a wind blew around the house, bringing her feathers up. The feathers were swirling around the house, getting in and surrounding him. In his ecstasy he didn’t notice. Thought it was just a dream.
But the feathers kept coming. Much more than the ones he took out of his first pet hen. In all colors and shades and sizes and fluffiness. The feathers of all the chicken he killed and ate.

It was their turn now. They closed in, filling the entire house, spilling to the outside, until he was swallowed by them. Buried alive in a sea of feathers.

This post was written based on the prompt Feathers, from Writer Write’s October prompts.

A lost key

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I was running late for a meeting and in the rush I dropped my key.
She saw me dropping it, grabbed it and came after me.

“Sir, sir, you lost your key.”

I couldn’t go on without my key, so in spite of the hurry I had to stop. And when I turned to grab my key and thank the lady, time stopped too. Everything did. All I could see was the personification of beauty and gentleness handing me my own key.

Then a car honked nearby waking me from that dreamy state, I grabbed the key shyly, said thank you and ran to the office. Just to found out the meeting had been cancelled.

She never left my thoughts that day and the days that followed.

About a week later I saw her again. I was almost running late again, but couldn’t care less, I just had to talk to her.

We met, we talked, we walked together around town, we laughed, we exchanged phone numbers, emails, instant messaging ids, we fell in love.

We joked that on that first encounter, the key she handed me was actually the key to her heart.

We were happy together.

For a few years….

Then, time passed, life happened and that warm feeling started to cool down.
For her, not really for me.
I was still warm by her side.

One day she sits me at the couch, in front of her, and announces she’s leaving. She still loves me, but not in the same way as before. Not be to my wife anymore. Maybe friends if I wanted her friendship.

I tear comes down my cheek, I can’t say anything. She turns and leaves.

I can’t find that key anymore… It is lost.

This post was written based on the prompt A lost key, from Writer Write’s October prompts.

To Do

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My To Do list is incredibly strong and grows much faster than I’m able to get to it. It almost looks like it feeds on Miracle-Gro or something!

And you know what’s the problem with it?
The bigger it grows, the lazier I get.
I guess I feel overwhelmed just to look at it.

I’ve tried doing smaller daily lists, but since all those items need to be done anyways, my daily lists either get too big and unattainable, or I include only the most urgent and the old stuff I’ve been postponing for like forever just continues to get postponed…

And overwhelming feelings lead to anxiety.

So yes, I’m a real deal huge nasty procrastinator and a somewhat anxious person.

Is there cure?
Maybe I just need to start getting things done!!??
Yeah! That’s it! That’s the answer to all my problems!
Deal then. I’ll do it all!

But tomorrow…
Now, just to think of the size of my list I feel sooooo lazy and stressed out….

I guess I’ll grab a book and relax a bit. Maybe some tea, a bubble bath…

The list can wait until tomorrow, right?

Yeah…

Good bye then. 😉

Today I found some writing prompts at the site Writer Write, and decided to try them.

The list has 31 prompts, one for each day of the month.

I’m starting on the 6th, so I’ll follow the prompt for the 6th, but I may go back a few, if one day I decide to write more.

And today’s prompt it To Do.

I have written a piece on paper, but it was more like reflections than fiction. Here I tried to merge, and create fiction (??? really?) based on those reflections.