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Sean knew he shouldn’t keep the telly open well past bedtime But he couldn’t help it. He also did not regret it.
“That stupid movie again?” his brother grumbled under a clump of moss.
“Shut up,’ he hissed back, not blinking. Never taking his eyes off the scene.
Even with the movie muted, the now familiar cacophony of human screams filled Sean’s head as the windy funnel took the school bus off the road and threw it like a weightless rock to the sea.
It was the biggest shark-fest in movie history.
And Sean loved every bloody second of it.
*Inspired by the prompt hate to love from The Daily Post.
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The intruders were young, barely teenagers.
They were sprawled on the carpet, watching cartoons while eating
He’d tell them to leave, if he weren’t too worried about upsetting Sally again.
Sally hated it when he treated her guests unkindly.
Even when they were rude and were eating his cake!
He had been hoping to dig into that sugary treat tonight. He’d even practiced his fridge opening technique, too—!
“Dad!” Sally called out. “Your stupid old dog’s home! I think he wants to eat my friends!”
But if they weren’t too skinny, he’d seriously be considering it.
*Inspired by the prompt unexpected guests from The Daily Post.
photo by Tony Wang via Unsplash
The old man stood there, a hand pressed to his chin, and the look in his eyes so unnervingly focused that when he moved and finally approached, I shrieked and turned the other way.
He grabbed me by the arm, his grip surprisingly gentle, and asked if I was Olive’s kid. I replied with a slow nod and a quiet yes, wondering how he knew my mother.
“I can’t stands yer pops,” he grunted, then his face began to ease into a smile, wistful and affectionate, “But tell yer momma Popeye says hi.”
*Inspired by the above for photo prompt of the Week 193 Three Line Tales Challenge @ . Only 100 Words
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The Mickey Mouse shirt held memories—too complicated to admit, yet too special to let go.
Pierre never intended on wearing it again.
But after Gwen
accidentally poured coffee on his suit while on the way to meet her probation officer, Mickey was all he had left to dress up his dad-bod flabs.
Why he kept it in his car all this time, he had no idea—
“Mr. Bautista,” Ted, the probation officer says, a familiar glint in his eyes. “I see you’ve kept my shirt.”
Who knew being a dad to a teenage daughter could be
this messed up?
*Inspired by the prompt third rate romance from The Daily Post.
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The words came to him in a flood of inspiration, merging and flowing together as though in a dream, creating scenes as vivid as life and as intense as his next breath.
What usually took him half a year to plan and the other half to barely finish, was now coming to him in droves, springing out of an endless well of ideas that was all his to exploit.
His fingers were on a mission, willing slaves to his mind’s final bursts of whimsy.
Because tonight was his last night on earth.
And this story could never die with hi;bbvyjugfhkjlkllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
*Inspired by the prompt because the night from The Daily Post.
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The lab took Daddy away in a burst of flames.
It was an accident, Mommy told everyone.
Old chemist tinkering with new ideas, resulting in bad chemicals colliding…
But the sadness in her eyes did not fool Sophie.
Sophie was down there, too. She saw everything through a slit in a forgotten closet.
old chemist was Daddy. The new idea, his assistant. And the bad chemicals were them and Mommy colliding in a burst of tempers, betrayal and threats of death.
Sophie had never left Mommy’s side.
She hated Mommy for leaving her there.
Mommy didn’t even feel sorry.
*Inspired by the prompt 10,000 spoons from The Daily Post.
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The painting moves!, the little girl would often say.
It was only kooky Aunt Elsa who believed her. Everybody else thought it was just a phase.
But Aunt Elsa knew better—
The little girl had always been Grandpa’s favorite.
Not even the locks on the dead man’s old room, where the painting hang, could keep him from taking what was his.
So when the little girl finally disappeared, it was only Aunt Elsa who knew why.
She could see them—
A grinning old man and a scared little girl, blending in with the otherwise vibrant colors of
The Marketplace crowd.
*Inspired by the prompt the artist’s eye from The Daily Post.
Here’s a new challenge I’m trying out hosted @ sammiscribbles
…… her weary soul finds solace in
…….. a corner of that old house
……… void of the town’s petty grievances and
………. explosive tempers that ate away at her sanity
….whe n she was still alive.
*Inspired by the prompt from the Haven Weekend Writing Prompt challenge @ . sammiscribbles
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Kitt looked at the little girl on the bed, face as pale as the sheets. The sight brought an ache that gripped at his heart and screamed at his soul.
“Are you sure?” the kind lady beside him asked. She smelled of earth and grass, felt warm and true like sunlight.
Kitt looked at the man keeping vigil by the bed. Daddy’s eyes were red and swollen, his face a portrait of helplessness and fear.
The lady took Kitt into her arms. He didn’t really need to say the words.
“They’ll know,” she said, then took the cat’s soul away.
Superstition (more of a note, really =^^=): I have had cats die unexpectedly at around the same time as a loved one came close to danger and/or death itself. My Mama says there’s a belief that cats do and will exchange their souls at a moment’s notice to ensure their human family’s safety. I do not believe in a lot of spiritual hogwash these days, but this one will forever hold a special place in my heart. ♥️
*Inspired by the prompt take care from The Daily Post.
photo by Sara Riaño via Unsplash
“Peter, where are we?” Dorothy asks, cuddling her dog tighter. “This is neither Oz nor Kansas.”
“I don’t know.” Peter scratches his head, sending pixie-dust flying everywhere. “This sure ain’t Neverland, either.”
“Oh, stop whining, you two,” little Alice sighs, throwing away her cake. “I’m just glad everything’s the right size again.”
*Inspired by the above for photo prompt of the Week 192 Three Line Tales Challenge @ . Only 100 Words