Thursday, June 18, 2015

So very, very late

Here's another sentence-story from yesterday ;)


(via)


Dallas ran from the barn as fast as he could, the clocks in the house told him he was late, so late. He dug his feet into the ground, springing forward so fast it sent his cape sailing backward as if he were flying. The laces on his red Chuck Taylors whipped across his feet. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and withdrew his wand from his suspenders. Falangrus was going to be so mad if he wasn't there precisely at nine o'clock.

Which was five minutes ago. 

Dallas burst through the doors of First United Church of Our Blessed Savior's Holy Mountain of Zion Church, and flew past the pews. He tore through the side door and climbed into the baptistry, then slipped through the old wooden door at the end of the room. Up, up, up the winding stairs he went to the bell tower, spider webs clinging to his face as he whipped past them. His heart hammered and sweat ran down his face. He pushed up his glasses again. 

He reached the top of the stairs and slammed to a stop. Holy harsh face, batman. Falangrus stood with his arms crossed, his grey robe spilling out at his feet. His eyes were narrowed to slits, his lips pressed so tight together Dallas wondered if God Himself could pry them apart. 

Dallas swallowed past the lump in his throat. Why did he always forget? Never, ever make a wizard angry. 



Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Jurassic world of crushes

Got another great sentence as inspiration for today's story (it appears in red).

(via)




"Want to go see the Jurassic Park movie with me?"

Jemma blinked up at Grant. Had she heard him right? She stared at the granite counter top, the same one Grant had eaten snacks and dinners on since they were kids. She'd grown up with him at her house, playing Play Station with her older brother Jeremy and eating all the food her mom could put out. 

She'd been infatuated with him since she was twelve, a silly crush that had blossomed over the past four years into full on love. 

He had seen her as nothing but annoying at first, desperate as she was to hang out with her brother and his cool friends. Then last year he had flirted with her like crazy. She flirted back, he never asked her out, she grew to hate him for it. They had a huge falling apart one weekend in the back yard. He said he thought he had liked her, but didn't. They were too close to ever date. They'd go back to how they were. 

It was easy. They would be friends. She would hide her true feelings and move on.

Hard to do when the boy she was in love with and trying to get over just asked her to the movies. " 

Grant stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced at the kitchen counter, then at her. "Friday, maybe?"
 
"What, like, with a group?"

He looked at her, his brown eyes piercing. "No, just you and me." 

His words were a hammer, pulverizing her heart into the tiniest of pieces. No, no, no. He couldn't do this. 

Jemma shook her head. "That's not what we agreed on."

"I know." His voice was steady. How could it be steady? He was ruining everything.

"No." She moved to the other side of the kitchen island. "No, that's not what we said."

"I know." In two steps he'd come around the island and swallowed up the space between them. "I know that's not what we said. But it's what I want."

Jemma wrapped her arms around her middle."No, Grant." She'd lose him. He'd change his mind, just like last time. Her throat tightened and she forced out her words. "We're just friends. You cannot change the rules." She stared down at the floor, unable to look him in the eye. 

Grant laid his hand on her arm and tugged it loose, then twined his fingers through hers. "We are friends. That's why I want this."

Jemma shook her head, hating the wretched tears that were streaming down her face. "You'll change your mind," she whispered. 

"No I won't," he whispered back. 

"Jeremy will hate it."

"I'll kick Jeremy's butt."

"You'll get annoyed with me."

"I haven't so far, and I've been around you all my life." Grant rubbed his thumb over her palm. "Please, Jemma."

She had no idea what to say, but opened her mouth anyway. 

Before words could form, her mom rounded the corner. "Hi, Grant."

"Hey Mrs. Brantley." Grant kept hold of her hand.

Holy crap, he kept hold of her hand. 

One sentence to start it all

Thought I would try something new again for Five Word Wednesday, so I asked for sentences to incorporate into a story. I got some great stuff (as always), and the first story to pop into my head was this one.

(via)


As the sun began to rise, she sat there with her mind uninhibited, breathing in the salty air, finally feeling at home. It'd been so long since she'd had that. Funny that it was here, with the wide Atlantic spilling out in front of her, that she felt most grounded.

Alicia smoothed her hands over her cut off jeans. Her fingers brushed over the key in her pocket, the one to her house, and once again the tears rose from the locked place deep inside her.

She didn't care.

She didn't care that the South Carolina coast was boiling hot and dripping with humidity. She didn't care about starting a new school her junior year. She didn't care that she shared a room with Izzy and enough La La Loopsy dolls to fill an entire ToysRUs. She didn't care that the Miller's house was small and they all shared a bathroom. Or that they didn't have enough money to buy her a car or send her to camp.

The ocean waves crashed on the shore, and images of the twelve foster homes she'd been in over the years flashed through her mind. Small and cramped. Sometimes she slept on couches. Sometimes she got yelled at for something one of the parent's real kids had done. The Millers shouldn't have been any different, but they were. Mostly because they actually wanted her to be there.

Alicia fingered the adoption papers in her hand, dog eared and crumpled because she couldn't stop pulling them out of her backpack and looking at them to make sure they were real. The sun rose bright and golden over the ocean. Her stomach grumbled, angry with her for getting up so early and not feeding it first. She'd eat at a breakfast table this morning. With a family.

Hers.

She brushed the tears from her eyes and jumped down from the bench. It was time to go home.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Queen of the dogs



Sadie scrunched up her nose.

Juliette Maynord strutted up on stage, a shocked expression on her face.

As if.

Juliette had been a shoe-in for prom queen since they were freshmen. Juliette's daddy was a big time lawyer in Crayville. Which wasn't saying much; the town was barely a dot on the map. But if your daddy was a lawyer and a schmoozer and had lived here his whole life, it meant you were a goddess in the eyes of everyone else here.

Teachers let Juliette skip class. Boys fawned over her. Girls talked bad about her behind her back, but then sidled up to her, each of them elbowing the other to try and be Juliette's best friend. A game Sadie had intentionally refused to play. Juliette was more fake than a Barbie doll.

Juliette smiled, her white teeth glistening under the lights of the hotel ballroom. Her white strapless dress shimmered as if it were made from pearls. It might as well have been for what it probably cost. Her mama had taken her down to Atlanta to buy it, and of course, by the following week everyone in school knew how much it had cost.

Sadie squinted. Oh dear gosh, the girl was actually tearing up. Juliette in her eight hundred dollar dress, with her fake tears and fake friends and snobbery, which made her the ugliest person in school despite her gorgeous hair and size six body. Sadie watched as the principal put the Prom Queen tiara on Juliette's head. She chuckled. It was like putting a crown on a dog.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Big hair


She looked like an owl in a sombrero.

Cady pushed the straw beach hat further down on her head. But as soon as she took her hand away - boing! - her blond curls pushed the hat up a good six inches. Dear stars in heaven.

Maggie leaned past the doorframe, the smell of her sunscreen pouring over the room. "Are you coming?"

Cady pointed to her head. "I look like a doofus."

Maggie smiled. "You like fine."

"I look like a poodle." Cady poked at the mound of hair. Even after brushing it and pulling it as tight as she could, her curls gave her ponytail more lift than botox did to a middle aged woman. She slammed the hat on tighter and growled. "Maybe I should go without it."

"You will fry up like a lobster," Maggie said, pressing her tan finger into Cady's pale, freckled arm. "Remember last spring break?"

Images of blistered skin flodded Cady's brain. "Fine," she said. "From now on we will call my hair Gustav. He has a personality and mind of his own, and may as well have his own zip code for as much room as he takes up."

Maggie kissed her cheek and looped her arm through Cady's elbow. "Fine. You and Gustav need to come outside and see the cute boys who are playing volleyball not far from our towels."

Cady snorted. "The only boy I am interested in is one who has room enough in his life for both me and my hair."

"Noted," Maggie said. She dragged Cady through the sand, then elbowed her side. "What about that one? I think he's perfect for you."

Cady glanced to where Maggie nodded. A tall guy stood near the volleyball net, his tan legs bent and his calf muscles tight and ready to send him leaping toward the net. Cady let her eyes travel upward. His blue swim trunks were sensible. No nonsense. And not hanging half down his butt like some of the guys on the beach whose egos could rival her hair in size. No six pack, but he was lean, and muscles ripped all over him. Good gosh. Then Cady saw what Maggie meant. Of course he was perfect for her. The guy's head was completely shaved, not a single hair on it.

Cady gripped Maggie's hand. "Let's go watch."


Elephant Love

So in lieu of five words, I asked for pictures today. And man, oh man, did I get some good stuff! I have stories I want to write for all of them, but we'll start with this little gem:


          Hello, said Danny.
Hello, said Fran.
          May I tell you something?
Well, of course you can.
          Sometimes I watch you.
Oh, really, you do?
          You're the sweetest thing.
Why, I think that of you.
          And well, I think you are lovely.
Oh stop, you big lug.
          You are so pretty!
Can I give you a hug?
           Your trunk is so delicate
 You're making me blush.
          And your ears are so big - No! I mean your eyes...your EYES are so big,
Oh, you shush!
          I brought you these flowers.
I'll put them in some water.
          They're not as pretty as you.
Could you be any hotter?
          I'd like to take you to dinner
Oh, I just ate!
          How about a movie?
I can't stay out that late.
        How about a walk?
Up over the hill?
          Will you hold trunks with me?
You bet I will.