A note about microfiction

I participate in a few twitter prompts, not always consistently and often not following the rules. Some of my post titles might be confusing if you’re not familiar with microfiction hashtags, so here’s the guide! Twitter allows 280 characters per tweet, and VSS (Very Short Story) prompts challenge you to create a whole story within 280 characters. This works for me better at some times than at others, and I often end up with something that’s not quite self-contained but is more of a writing prompt.

#vss365: a daily prompt word for producing a very short story in tweet-length

#flexvss: a newer daily prompt of a more common word (since #vss365 can be obscure).

#whistpr is another daily one-word prompt (for any art, not necessarily for a very short story)

#366FF, which has a monthly optional theme and a daily prompt (the FF stands for Fanciful Fables).

#bravewrite is another daily one-word prompt.

I’ve also done the weekly #brieflywrite and semi-daily #mentalhealthprompt as the whim strikes me.

These are mostly a fun exercise for my brain, and the reason I repost them on the blog instead of leaving them in the Twitterverse to die is that some may be writing prompts for future stories. I end up writing in genres or voices I don’t usually use because the time investment is so small and sometimes I’m surprised by what I come up with. I usually knock these off in the morning, but sometimes I let them marinate all day. Sometimes I combine prompts and sometimes I do separate tweets for each prompt. Some days I just don’t feel it and skip. Some days I come back to a previous word.

So for the weirdly short posts with hashtaggy titles, that’s what’s going on!

#vss365: skeptic

‪Little sunlight pierced the canopy so deep in the wood. Dead leaves, branches, and were those bones?crunched under my feet. I heard a strangled cry and called out to our guide. “Zia?” No answer. I’d started the hike as a Sasquatch #skeptic but I wouldn’t end it that way.‬

#vss365 ongoing story

UPDATE: HEY, IT’S DONE (SUCH AS IT IS)!

VSS365 is a daily twitter writing prompt, a challenge to write a Very Short Story less than the length of a tweet. I thought it would be fun to try to make a longer story out of a series of prompts starting with June 1 and see how long I can keep it going. Prompt words are hashtagged.

The real estate agent gestured broadly. “It’s hard to find a #littoral dwelling like this in your price range!” “Isn’t this the house where the family disappeared without a trace?” “Well, yes, but the double-paned windows—“ I drank in the view. “I’ll take it.”

I could swear I heard someone humming, but I was alone in the house. What was that song? It was so familiar. A knock at the door made me jump. A tall woman carrying a #hydrangea in an unusual blue vase said, “Welcome to the neighborhood. I hope you’ll stay.”

‪I poured a cup of tea for my new neighbor. “What do you know about the people who used to live here? I heard they just disappeared.” She shifted in her seat. “Tea isn’t strong enough for this. I’ll need a bit of #potvalor if you’ve got a drop of brandy.”

“Someone wanted them out of the house. It was straightforward at first, the mailbox riddled with #buckshot and threatening calls. But then it got weirder. Music playing somewhere in the house, creepy stuff.” Chilled, I hummed the song I’d been hearing. “That’s it!”

I was walking down to the mailbox when something fluttered in the breeze. I moved closer and saw…I’m not sure what. Like a snake had #sloughed off its skin, only bigger. And human-shaped. I tried to grab it but a gust of wind blew it into the road.

I tripped over something and fell onto something hard. A bone, with bits of #sinew still clinging to it, much bigger than the rabbits and squirrels I’d seen around here. I ran into the house and slammed the door, just as the strange song began to echo from upstairs.

A green light briefly filled the room. I looked out the window and saw nothing. The #aurora wasn’t visible this far south. What could it have been? I thought I saw a dark shape out in the yard, but when I blinked, it was gone.

I ran to the door, hoping to catch the dark figure in the yard, but a sudden #languor overtook me. My steps slowed and then stopped. I sank to the floor and my eyelids became too heavy to keep open. The nightmare I had next raised more questions than answers.

Someone was holding a glass to my lips. An #effervescent liquid tipped into my mouth. I swallowed. “You were on the floor when I came in,” my neighbor said. “This is a #panacea my grandmother brewed.” I remembered the dream I’d had. “There’s something under the house.”

“This tastes weird,” I said. “#Sapid, right? Like drinking flowers, but not in a bad way. All the women in my family learn to make this tonic.” “What happened to me?” I asked. “I think the spirits came to warn you, but they don’t always know their strength.”

“I’ve become #inured to the spirits’ visits, but they seem to have hit you hard. You were on the floor when I came in. Do you remember what they told you? You said something about under the house.” “I’m supposed to dig,” I said. “In the cellar.”

“Go get a shovel!” I put down the cup of liquid #ambrosia and stared. “You want me to dig up the cellar floor now?” I realized I felt energized and excited, not even a bit afraid of what I might find down there. “When the spirits tell you to do something, you get moving!”

My shovel struck something hard, and I brushed away the dirt, revealing a wooden trapdoor. It seemed my cellar had some long-forgotten #penetralia beneath. “Is this what I’m supposed to find?” I whispered. I felt a breeze that might have been a sigh.

I descended the stairs into the hidden room and shone my light around. It was mostly empty, but I spotted an old-fashioned #carrel against one wall. A pile of dusty books waited on its surface. One was open. I sat gingerly in the rickety chair and began to read.

The dusty tome chronicled all the phenomena I’d witnessed in the house. “Did the people who disappeared write this? ‘When the #zephyr blows and the moon is new’–” My neighbor was impatient. “What’s next?” “It ends there. Were they writing down how to find them?”

“So what next?” she asked. “They wrote to search the #benthos at the deepest part of the lake. So I guess we go fishing? Or dive?” I thought about the cold, murky water. Who knew what was down there? Could it be the Parishes themselves, slowly nibbled down to their bones?

We sat in the canoe, watching the fishhook drop until it was lost in the murk. We hadn’t used bait since we weren’t hoping for fish, but something stranger. And we found it. Tiny lights began to #constellate around the boat and the pole nearly jerked out of my hands.

The silver of the fishhook glowed in the mass of eerie lights, which were suddenly extinguished with a loud GULP as something very large #ingurgitated the hook and nearly pulled me into the water with the fishing pole. I’d seen that shape before, lurking in my front yard.

As she reeled in the line, the stone of her necklace began to glow, so bright I had to shield my eyes. “What’s that?” I asked. “It’s a #periapt my grandmother made me to protect me from things like this.” The dark shape broke the surface of the water. “And we need it!”

“What in the world is that?” I asked as the creature broke the surface of the #submontane lake. “It’s not from this world. Or the next.” It stilled in the glow of her amulet as if transfixed. “I think it can tell us where to find the missing people.”

It was hypnotized by her amulet, its urge to flee become #velleity in the glowing stone. She released the hook from its mouth. At her prompting, it began to speak in a series of meaningless grunts. “I know where we have to go next. I always knew I’d have to return.”

“Where are we going?” I asked. “To the place where my grandmother first took #tellurian form. I’m not entirely human–it’s why I can hear the spirits and understand the lake creature.” I expected something dramatic, but at the end of the dark path was…a hole.

A #rubiginous light emanated from the crater. I heard a soft humming. “That’s the song I’ve been hearing in my house! What’s making it?” “This is where the spaceship carrying my grandmother crashed. She was able to take human form, but some of the spirits linger here.”

A hush fell on the #verdant wood as she kindled a fire and emptied jars and vials into the pot hanging over the flames. “This should either give the spirits human form or send them back home,” she said, and she began to sing.

She #slathered her naked body in the potion and began to dance around the fire, still singing the eerie melody that had haunted me since I moved into that house. Strange lights began to billow towards her, and I waited to see what the spirits would do next.

The #viridity of the forest seemed to intensify for a moment before the strange lights winked out. “Oh,” she said softly. “I’ve sent them home. I’d rather hoped they’d take human form. It’d be like having my grandmother back.”

“Is this #escapade finally over?” I asked. “Almost. The trapped spirits have gone back to their home planet, but don’t forget the lake monster. Or the thing that tried to eat you at your house. They have form, so we’ll have to deal with them physically.”

“Heads we tackle the lake monster first, tails the #basilisk in your yard.” I watched the coin flash in the air, unsure which to hope for. “Tails. Okay, we save the #sculling for later. I’ll drive; you google ‘how to kill a basilisk.'”

“Can’t you do that chanting thing you did with the spirits?” “Not once they take physical form. What did you find out about the basilisk?” “Well, we can either wait for the new moon and–” “Let’s #nix that idea and get this done today.” “Okay, where can we find a sword?”

“No sword. Let’s see, we have a tire iron, jumper cables–” “I think this potion will work.” “You think?” “Well, grab the tire iron just in case.” I didn’t see exactly what happened in the ensuing #chaos, but the basilisk was gone and a green shimmer floated skyward.

“The potion works!” she said, as the green light billowed toward the stars like an #angel. “You can put down the tire iron now.” “To the lake?” She held up a vial. “To the lake!” “What will I do without all these ghosts and monsters around?” “Have you considered macrame?”

She flopped back into the boat in exhaustion. “Well, that’s the lake monster done, then!” “I suppose we’d better start rowing home.” “Yes, there’s still the #demogorgon to contend with.” “What!” “Just kidding! Our adventure is finally over. Want to get a drink?”

THE END

Notes: The pacing could use a lot of work, and I think I left some plot holes. Not everything makes sense. But it came to some kind of resolution, and it was a fun exercise. The words for June were…challenging, to say the least, and they pushed the story in places I wasn’t expecting. I didn’t see aliens coming at all until, hey, there they were. I started with no idea where it was going, and I got there in there. I’ll probably do this again, and I might do a rewrite of this idea into a real story where I actually remember to name one of the main characters and tie up the loose ends.