Thursday, December 13, 2018

100 Words a Day 1261

“Anything’s possible on the moor.”

I’d thought that the old man was repeating a bit of folk musing, or else trying to scare me, when he’d said those words in his hoarse voice. But as I wandered, utterly lost, having long ago given up on walking towards what I had assumed were the lights of some house, I came to understand what he’d meant. Weird noises issued from the darkness and strange shapes stalked the edge of my vision. When the thick clouds parted, the moon was always in a different spot, and I never recognized any of the constellations.

Saturday, December 8, 2018

100 Words a Day 1260

Alex shifted in his chair as the sound of the voices neared. He glanced over his shoulder. There were two men coming down the row of cubicles, one walking slightly in front of the other. Alex was sure they were coming for him. He thought he could hear the heels of each mans’ feet striking the ground as they came closer. He caught the lead man’s eye and snapped back around. He stared down hard at his desk, heart racing. He forced himself to look at his computer screen and struggled to act normal. Maybe they weren’t coming for him.

Friday, December 7, 2018

100 Words a Day 1259

The warriors of Ish Tamir attributed the prowess of their armies to their great devotion to the sun god Altarir, and they claimed, in public at least, that they would never lose so long as they fought under their god’s watchful eye. During times of war, fighting men were exempt from the rigorous devotions their sun god demanded. They joked, always out of earshot of Altarir’s priests, that they were so successful because they got to sleep in the day of the battle. Hosts normally assembled just after dawn, when the Ish Tamir would normally already be deep in prayer.

Thursday, December 6, 2018

100 Words a Day 1258

Spring had arrived. And that meant a renewing of the campaign against The Bastard King. He had holed up in a fortress build on the side of one of the floating continents, which made it notoriously difficult to assault. It was situated such that any invaders would constantly struggle against the gravity shifts. The Red Bull had a plan however. He’d made a pact with a strange elf, one who could change his shape. He promised that he and his troupe would sneak into the castle and open the gates. When the Bull had asked how, the elf simply smiled.

Wednesday, December 5, 2018

100 Words a Day 1257

“Once I was criminal, but now I’m a cultist.”

“Usually it goes the other way, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Emilio leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, usually it does go the other way. But,” he shrugged. “That’s how it goes sometimes.”

“You seem pretty okay with the transition.”

Emilio shrugged again. “Yeah, being in a cult isn’t as bad as you’d expect. Always plenty to eat.”

“But, aren’t their weird rules and stuff?”

“Yeah… there’s a few of those, but they don’t bother me. Beats worrying about someone trying to kill me.”

“Uh huh…” Gasper nodded slowly, confused by the man.

Tuesday, December 4, 2018

100 Words a Day 1256

Dave was so exhausted by the stop-and-go traffic that he oozed out of his car more than he stepped out of it. He staggered down the street and huffed up his front stairs. The fuzziness in his brain made it hard to get the key in the lock. When he finally did manage to unlock the door, he sagged against it until it opened.

He pushed the door shut and stumbled towards his room, shedding his backpack and then his clothes as he went. Down to his underwear when he finally reached his bed, he collapsed onto it and slept.

Sunday, December 2, 2018

100 Words a Day 1255

The door creaked open revealing an old spiral staircase. The steps were covered with thinning carpet, worn by the tread of many feet. The bare brick walls that surrounded the staircase were cracked and crumbling. The handrail squeaked when I put my weight on it. I sighed.

It’d always been rundown, but it was never this bad. It was like when I went home and saw my mom limping for the first time. It wasn’t much of a limp, but it shattered the illusion that the things I’d taken for granted in my life were as perpetual as they seemed.