Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction challenge calls for the use of a dragon in the story I have a couple flash stories with dragons, but here is a very short one.
Departure-The Dragon’s Drama
With a powerful down sweep of his wings Langir rose up and off the cliff. He caught a thermal draft, and soared higher toward the orange sun, taking deep breaths to fight off oxygen deprivation. No one else dared to fly so high, and he bugled his triumph as the air drafts pushed against his wings taking him higher.
“Still, if some are occasionally begotten from demons, it is not from the seed of such demons, nor from their assumed bodies, but from the seed of men, taken for the purpose; as when the demon assumes first the form of a woman, and afterwards of a man; just so they take the seed of other things for other generating purposes.”~Saint Thomas Aquinas
The wind rushed unrelenting over the parched land whirling the topsoil into a stinging whorl of fine sand and I hang back into the door jam. The sound of it was horrible, like the wail of demons joining in an awful chorus. I’ve shivered and gathered my cloak around me.
Chuck Wendig posted his most impossible challenge of all:
Grab 1000 words of your NaNoWriMo work-in-progress (or, really, even if you’re not participating, any WIP of yours), and slap those 1000 words online for all to see.
Eeek. I mean, I’m just not ready to do that. It’s still working, foaming in the vat of writerly inspiration, not quite ready for public inspection. Instead I give you the first thousand words of Forced Labor, which I’m happy with.
I don’t know though. My twenty-eight year old middle son read the first four hundred words and thought it was pretty cool. (I didn’t know he picked up a copy.) But he has been too busy to read the rest of it. How do you get too busy to read your mother’s work? There is no good excuse. Ahem.
Forced Labor (2/3’s of First Chapter)
Arekan sat on his narrow bunk in the bowels of the aging space vessel stitching his forearm. It was a nasty gash, but nothing unusual for him. It would be just one more scar in the litany of scars that scored his body. He winced as he threaded the needle into his flesh, wishing he had liquor in him before he did this.Continue reading Chuck Wendig’s Newest Challenge: First 1,000 Words
The diabolical Chuck Wendig chose the picture for the newest cover of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as the inspiration for his latest flash fiction challenge. Yes, I agree it is creepy, worthy of inspiration. The challenge: one thousand word based on the picture. I’m not quite the horror type, but I gave it a shot anyway.
The Good Girl
Eight-year old Merry knitted her little fingers together, her arms twisted to her back while she surveyed the scene. Her mother’s tea set sprawled over the length of the living room, some of the pieces inexorably shattered, lost beyond repair. Her upper teeth pushed into her pink bottom lip, the barest quivering of tears wetting her eyelashes. It was revenge, and she knew it.
“I didn’t do it, mommy,” she said. Her voice was plaintive, but she knew what was coming.
“You never do it,” said her mother with disapproval. “Just like the Christmas ornaments you smashed. Go to your room, and stay there.”
She went to her room, but only for a little while. Merry was told enough times by both parents that she was a bad girl. She was supposed to be perfect. At times she was. Merry never fussed while mother made up her hair just so before she went to school, and she took care to keep her clothes clean when she was out in public. Even her teachers told her parents how good she was at school.