“There’s a #biblioclept plaguing the libraries of the city. Smythe, take your #macrosmatic hound and see if you can find his trail. The rest of you, guard the houses of books from further disruption. You are authorized to #defenestrate on sight.” #vss365
“Imagine walking through a desert. The sand is hot under your feet. You’re thirsty and tired, and you come upon an #oasis. Describe it for me.” “There’s just a blue door. I’m going to open it.” “No, wait–” This had happened in #therapy once before. #whistpr #bravewrite
“Just through here is the dining room, and beyond it—“ “Uh, are we going to talk about the boarded-up door?” “It’s been sealed since the 1912 #fire.” “I’m sorry, fire?” “I’m not required to disclose any of this but you can google “Tipton murders ghost.” But the view!” #vss365
I’ve been ignoring the #vss365 prompts, which lately I have to look up, but I busted out one today using the ones I’ve missed. I’m glad to have other prompts to make up for it.
The #ulotrichous maiden sat down to write a post-#jentacular poem but was overcome by #kakorrhaphiophobia. She pulled at her curly locks so vigorously that she became rather #erinaceous. Erinaceous! she thought. That was the next word. #vss365
“We’ll have to go #deeper into your #memories this time. There was some sort of block behind #the #nudiustertian morning. I think there’s some #burden you don’t want to #dwell on. The emotions you report #dwindle to nothing. So, let’s go back before you saw the bright light…”
bravewrite #366FF #flexvss #vss365 #whistpr #brieflywrite
They met on an #archaelogical dig, where he was digging for #multifarious bones in pursuit of a doctorate. She was an #obstreperous allosaur, still wandering the earth after all these millions of years. Their love would inspire epic poetry and reality television shows. #vss365
“Game, #set, and match,” she crowed. He threw down his racket. “What was the bet again? The planet Poglop?” “Ha! Nice try, Jinda. Poglop is a barren rock. We wagered for Surgnor, and you know it.” Damn it, he thought. He was going to miss those ice mines. #vss365
A #quantity of empty bottles littered the floor. Amelia picked her way through the mess and gave Sir Peter a shove. “Go ‘way,” he muttered. “I’m having an #existential crisis.” “Get dressed. Time to fight the dragon.” “A metaphorical dragon?” he asked hopefully. “Nope.” #vss365
I seem to have started another ongoing microfiction story over on Twitter. I have NO IDEA where this is going! This one uses #366FF, #flexvss, #bravewrite, and #whistpr prompts. Most entries I managed to use all four, but for a handful I only managed 2-3. I also used #vss365 at least once. Prompt words are hashtagged, but I removed the prompt hashtags for smoother reading. Original tweets contain prompt hashtags.
“Don’t #blame me for your #neglect! I gave you instructions when you bought the thing.” “But it’s #enormous! It doesn’t even fit in the house anymore!” “The only thing for it is a #journey to the old wizard. He knows a chicken-shrinking spell.”
Chance walked back home, muttering to himself. The giant chicken at his side clucked softly, #mimicking his #inflection. He squared his shoulders. It was not the time to sit #idle. He had an #obscure mage to seek out, and a chicken to shrink.
Chance heard a #ripping sound from the other room. The giant chicken was tearing his sheets into strips. He watched, #mystified, as it fashioned them into a nest and settled onto it with a soft cluck.
His mind on the long #commute ahead to the wizard’s lair, Chance struggled to adjust to the problem at hand, the #large chicken in its #amorphous nest. To #paddle past a #kelpie was one thing, to move a recalcitrant giant chicken was another.
He was losing #patience. He didn’t mind a good #monster fight, but coaxing a giant chicken to leave his #bedroom with #vague assurances of a better life was beyond him. As he stood flummoxed, the chicken clucked loudly and laid a giant egg.
Chance collected supplies from a #cabinet and studied the chicken, #bemused. “All right then, off we go!” The chicken stared. Chance had faced many a foe on the #battlefield, but this! He looked at the #net in his hand. Was it large enough?
The chicken seemed to #grasp his nonthreatening intentions. It gave him a #cryptic look but allowed him to #peek at the enormous egg. “What if we bring it along?” he asked. The chicken gave a #favorable cluck. “Guess I’ll find a wheelbarrow.”
“Where did the old wizard #disappear to?” Chance asked the innkeeper, who claimed #amnesia. The whole pub seemed to #clam up, but one old woman muttered, “Take the north road, but don’t #quote me on that.” “North it is,” he told the chicken.
The #wind blew. The wheelbarrow bumped along the road. The giant chicken watched to be sure Chance wasn’t #careless with her egg. He tried to #remember that the old wizard would make it right, but he wasn’t #ecstatic about this journey.
The evening #gloom had descended and Chance was #faint with hunger when he reached the house where the old wizard lived. A light came on and #sad music began to #play. The chicken clucked and hopped onto its egg in the wheelbarrow.
Chance knocked, and a wizened face peered out. “Go away.” Chance knocked again. “Was I #unclear? I’m retired. Gods above, that chicken is as tall as you are!” he continued in a higher #register. “You’d better come in, but the chicken waits outside.”
“Well, this is a #unique problem.”. “Is it? I heard you had a spell just for shrinking chickens.” “Did I? My memory’s gone a bit #nebulous. Part of the reason I decided to #leave. I’m not sure I have the #energy.” “I have gold.” “Ah!”
“I guess it’s true that a wizard never really retires. I’ve gone a bit #forgetful, I’ve got lumbago, arthritis, and #vertigo, but when someone comes so #far to seek my counsel, my past #glory calls. Let’s see this giant chicken of yours.”
“You’re not here as a #trap from the king, are you? To lure me back into service? I’m done with the magical #crafts.” “No, I’ve just made a mistake with my chicken and I hoped you’d help.” The chicken clucked and tried to #hide its head under its wing.
“I bought it from a royal #messenger selling magical #animals.” The wizard rummaged in the cabinet on the #wall. “And you weren’t supposed to let the chicken eat any millet for a #year?” Chance nodded. “I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“Will your chicken-shrinking spell work on the egg?” The wizard ran to #feel it. “Something’s #alive in there!” His eyes shone with greedy #attraction. “This could be my payment.” The chicken clucked, possibly calling Chance a #traitor.
“No, #the egg is hers, not mine to give.” The wizard scowled, but took the gold and cast a complicated spell. “Oh, dear. Instead of shrinking the chicken, I’ve made her human. Hmm. Does she have the #burden of chicken #memories, I wonder?”
The former chicken stood with surprising #poise and grace. Chance and the wizard were unprepared for her #flood of words. “Well? Get me something to wear. And something to eat. And then I can #ride that #chestnut horse home. Wherever home is.”
She waved a #dragonfly from her porridge and began to #speak again. “I don’t #own anything but this giant egg, but it should fetch enough at the #funfair.” Chance spluttered, “You can’t sell your offspring!” “Do you want to buy it then?”
“Do I want to buy your egg?” Chance #echoed. The wizard was #annoyed at being left out. “You’re #dancing around the point that you’d still be a chicken without my spell!” “This strange #conglomeration of magic is not all your doing,” she said.
“My lady, be my wife! Your beauty! Your #balletic grace! I would #bleed and die for you!” “I think the #adrenaline #flow has gotten to you,” she said. “We just met.” “But you were my chicken!” She shook her head.
“I don’t wish to be reminded that I was a chicken,” she told Chance, regarding herself in the #mirrors. “Now, I’ll need a #gown. This plain robe won’t do at all. #Lead me to a seamstress.” She turned to the wizard. “Unless you can magic one…?”
“I said gown, not #clown,” she told the wizard. “Think sweeping and elegant.” “My knowledge of fashion is out of date,” he said stiffly. “#Stop. I’ll draw what I want.” The #hound at her feet, she sketched, humming a strange scrap of #music.
“I #remember a perfect-shirt-making spell I won in a #raffle at a wizards’ fair. I might be able to #invent a perfect-gown-making spell based on that. Let’s see, this should have the #correct measurements. And–ah! Breathtaking.”
“In this dress, the court will find a #space for me!” she declared. “The other ladies will be pale with #jealousy,” the wizard said. “Thank you for the #rescue from life as a chicken.” Outside, snow fell like #confetti.
“To the palace, kind #knave! If the wheelbarrow won’t #carry the egg through snow, we can leave it with the wizard.” Chance’s refusal #frustrated the wizard. But everyone stopped and stared when the egg began to jump like an #acrobat.
Chance felt #afraid and excited as the giant egg began to hatch. He’d started to feel fatherly toward it. The wizard leaned forward, eyes glittering. The lady tapped her fingers on the table, impatient to leave.
They stared, their faces #masks of confusion. The wizard went #limp and #melted back into his chair. Chance couldn’t make out his #whispers. In the #remains of the eggshell stood a tiny chick. “It’s cute,” said the lady. “Can we go now?”
“It could be some #novel species,” said Chance. “It might have #unseen powers,” said the wizard, peering at it through his #spectacles. “Peep,” said the #star of this drama, a tiny, fuzzy little yellow chick.
“Well, it’s just an ordinary chicken,” said the wizard. “You can leave it here and be on your way.” “Oh, I know your #game!” Chance said, #anger rising. “You think it’s magical and you want me to give it up.” “Peep,” said the chick.