The #orphans were on their daily outing to the park when a #storm #rose from the east, thunder rattling their bones as dark clouds blotted out the sun. They felt a #change in the air as dozens of fairies descended, wings aglow, to carry them away.
“What are you watching?” “It’s my soap opera, #Passion of the #Pachyderms. Stella is about to #leave Steve after a #quarrel over the best tree bark, but she doesn’t know he’s actually been replaced by a Steve from another #dimension.”
“Time is #resilient, but…” She shifted the first man’s body and wiped her hands on his shirt. “Let’s #pretend nothing happened and just pop back to 2020 and assess the damage. We’ll #lie our asses off to the captain. How bad can it be?”
The villagers gathered at the #blue #obelisk to hear the priest. “The gods send a message to build a temple near the water!” “I think you just want a beach house,” muttered Stan. “Banish the #heretic #forever!” they cried in #unity.
Eleven #writers gathered on a dark and stormy #night to collaborate. The biographer tossed another #split log onto the fire. “Enough stalling,” she said. “It’s time we wrote the #truth.” “My truth or yours?” asked the poet #timidly.
I caught a flash of #green from the corner of my eye. “Not again!” I groaned. “He’s #hunted me down. We’d better run.” “Wait, is that a…toad? Is it limping?” “I accidentally mowed over his foot last week. Who knew an amphibian could be so #vengeful?”
I draw near the #hungry whirlpool and think back to the witch’s words: “Just #scull around #Charybdis #eleven times and your skin will clear right up!” I still have time to turn back. I touch the enormous blemish on my chin. Worth it.
“Close the #gate!” I #yell as he runs for the front steps. “Don’t look behind you!” His eyes are wide and his breath ragged as he darts past me through the door. I slam it shut, throw the bolt, and brace my #shoulder against it, waiting for impact.
“Come on, Steve, it’s your #destiny to #catch the giant pike! You can’t give up now, not since he got away last time!” “I feel like I’ve read this book before. It didn’t end well, Bill.” Steve sighed. “You’d better get me another beer. Fate makes me thirsty.”
“This weekend? Sorry, I harvested peaches and I have loads of #jam to #can.” “Is that like ‘I have to wash my hair?'” “No. I’m actually making jam. I sell it. It’s my job.” He laughed. “Okay, Grandma. How about the next weekend?” “Then I have to wash my hair.”