Fiction Fragment Fridays: Spiritualist

FFF
**As first mentioned on March 21st**
For the next little while I’m going to be busy building up a new backlog of material to post on Fridays, amidst the other stuff I’m working on, so for the next few weeks I’m going to satisfy myself to simply post a drabble a week. For you writers out there, feel free to use these drabbles as prompts toward writing something bigger and better, and if you care to share what you’ve written, please send me a link so I can check it out. 🙂

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Spiritualist

The man was very old. Sitting there in front of the fire, hunched over with his eyes closed…you could almost imagine that he’d died in that position. When he opened those eyes, however, they were full of fiery life. He picked up the staff at his side and shook it over the fire; the bobbles he’d tied to the end of it clinked and clanked and glimmered in the light.

“So…you can do magic, right?” I asked, “So, you can help me with my…problem?”

His slow grin was one of the most frightening things I’d ever seen.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Witch

FFF
**As first mentioned on March 21st**
For the next little while I’m going to be busy building up a new backlog of material to post on Fridays, amidst the other stuff I’m working on, so for the next few weeks I’m going to satisfy myself to simply post a drabble a week. For you writers out there, feel free to use these drabbles as prompts toward writing something bigger and better, and if you care to share what you’ve written, please send me a link so I can check it out. 🙂

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Witch

I always wanted to be a witch. Magic – or magik, if you prefer – always fascinated me in a way that nothing else did. I especially enjoyed the religious aspects. The idea of a God and Goddess who are the embodiments of nature and it’s manifestation of life always appealed to me, particularly the stories which describe the Goddess as the being that contains and conceives the universe and the God as her inspiration for life. I felt I had a connection to them…that I could harness their eternal power.

Oh, how gloriously wrong I was…how very, spectacularly wrong.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Gamer

FFF
**As first mentioned on March 21st**
For the next little while I’m going to be busy building up a new backlog of material to post on Fridays, amidst the other stuff I’m working on, so for the next few weeks I’m going to satisfy myself to simply post a drabble a week. For you writers out there, feel free to use these drabbles as prompts toward writing something bigger and better, and if you care to share what you’ve written, please send me a link so I can check it out. 🙂

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Gamer

Video games are my life. It’s pretty pathetic, I guess, but it’s true. I own all the consoles available, and even some that aren’t, including a few which failed miserably and only sold a few thousand units. My game collection rivals that of anyone I know, kid or adult, which is a massive point of embarrassment for my parents. But you know what? There’s just…something…something about immersing yourself in the life of another; seeing what they see, experiencing what they experience. It’s the greatest thing, to become someone else, someone cool, someone amazing.

God, I’m such a loser.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Monsters

FFF
For the next little while I’m going to be busy building up a new backlog of material to post on Fridays, amidst the other stuff I’m working on, so for the next few weeks I’m going to satisfy myself to simply post a drabble a week. For you writers out there, feel free to use these drabbles as prompts toward writing something bigger and better, and if you care to share what you’ve written, please send me a link so I can check it out. 🙂

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Monsters!

Why does Godzilla always attack Japan?

As a young monster growing up I idolized Godzilla. He always seemed like the biggest and baddest of all the monsters. Even when he lost the battle he was still the coolest because he always came back.

But I did always wonder what exactly he had against the Japanese. I mean, with so many other countries just ripe for the picking, some of them even very close by, why constantly torment the same poor nation over and over again?

I’m all grown up now, a fully grown monster, and I’m going to attack Canada.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Risky Love and Bloodlust

Well I am very sad to say that for the time being I have completely run out of Final Fantasy: Returning Hope to share with you all. I hope to continue on with the story very soon in the future, but in the meantime I’ll need other things to post on Fiction Fragment Fridays. For today I’m giving you a pair of drabbles that I wrote a while back while experimenting with telling two sides of the same story.

Risky Love

I was completely and utterly in love with her.

I looked into her deep onyx eyes and was totally lost. Her face was pale and flawless against my trembling fingers; her lips were full and red as fresh, wild berries.

“You ready, sweetie?” she smiled seductively, sweeping long strands of violent red hair behind her ears.

I gulped and nodded; she grinned and leaned hungrily toward my neck.

Yes, I was irrevocably, unconditionally in love with her…and I was ready to become a vampire to be with her.

I just hoped she loved me enough to stop drinking in time…

Bloodlust

He smiled at me and I felt an intense surge of love for him. It wasn’t right. I shouldn’t be able to love, being the monster that I am. But when he smiled at me, I could feel the beautiful pain in my chest. Perhaps…perhaps I had a soul after all.

I sunk my fangs into his tensed throat, holding his body tight to mine, and drank. His blood was warm and sweet and…he was better than anything I’d ever tasted, or ever would.

Yes, I definitely loved him, but was that love stronger than my thirst for his blood?

Fiction Fragment Fri- Er…Saturday: Pervert

My dear, lovely readers, I want it put on record that I have no idea what happened to my Fiction Fragment Friday post for yesterday. It wasn’t until I looked at my blog stats this morning and noticed a distinct lull in traffic for yesterday that I realized no post was made. Since I had scheduled the post over a week ago I looked into it and found no post anywhere in my records. It simply…vanished. I can’t honestly say that it was the fault of WordPress and not myself, but I am gloriously infallible, so I’ll let you make your own judgements from there.

Since I had (presumably) scheduled another section of Erased, but I don’t have a copy of that file out West with me I’m going to have to go with something quick and dirty that I can type out on my iPhone since I don’t have Internet access on my tablet right now. It’s a but of a ridiculous go-ahead really, but I want to give you something since yesterday got screwed up.

With that said, here’s a Drabble I wrote a while back:

Pervert

Jake liked to hang out at fitness gyms. He wasn’t particularly into weights or cardio, and he didn’t really need the exercise; he liked to hang out and watch the women. There were the chubby ladies in jogging pants, panting and practically sweating blood in their attempts to shed the extra pounds, and there were the super skinny girls in designer exercise clothes who looked like they probably ate wheat grass and soy milk for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Both types had their own particular kind of…appeal.

Jake got kicked out of fitness gyms at least three times a week.

Can Someone Please Invent a 36-hour Day?

Because time seems to be slipping away from me at an ever-increasing rate and I’ve been completely unable to find the time for any decent posts over my recent days off, here are a couple of drabbles for you. They’re fanfic drabbles based on the Harry Potter universe:
The Godfather

Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy. Not that he was unhappy on a regular basis – on the contrary, he was a very cheerful person. Nevertheless, at this particular moment he was what he would have described as ecstatic.

“You….you’re sure?” he asked, nervousness in his voice, “You’re both absolutely positive?”

Lily and James smiled at him, her from her hospital bed, and he from her side. “Yes, you idiot,” James insisted, “Of course we’re sure!”

Sirius couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he looked down at the newborn baby in Lily’s arms.

“Hello, Godson!”

Hired

Sybil shook her head a little. The headache had come on suddenly, a most unwelcome distraction from her interview with Headmaster Dumbledore.

“Excuse me, I just…” she started, but before she could pardon herself she found the pain had intensified tenfold and she clutched her temples.

If you told her afterwards that she’d been speaking in a most disturbing voice, she’d never believe you. To her, mere seconds passed before she looked back up to the Headmaster and apologized for her transgression. However, as she did, Dumbledore was staring at her with a thoughtful and calculating gaze.

“Congratulations. You’re hired.”

You Can Trust Us

Have you ever felt like someone was asking you too many questions? Have you ever filled out a form or a job application and thought, “Now seriously, why the hell do they need to know that?” Well I have, and that regularly-occurring experience is what lead me to write the following drabble, entitled ‘You Can Trust Us’.

Mental Heath Questionnaire

Please answer honestly.

What is your age?

Are you currently taking any prescription medication?

Is there any history of mental instability in your family?

Do you suffer from any form of mental instability?

Are you sure?

You wouldn’t lie to us, would you?

It’s okay. You can trust us.

Seriously, we aren’t trying to trick you into lowering your guard.

Why must you think poorly of us? We’re only trying to help.

Okay, that’s it. You’ve forced us to take matters into our own hands. Orderlies are on their way to detain you. Have a nice day.

Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar?

I’ve been a little busy lately, what with the hubby coming home, and preparing for my upcoming trip to my new job. I was subjected to a drug test on Monday (always fun), and had to take my Construction Safety course yesterday, so this is the first time I’ve really sat down at my computer since before hubby came home.

Regularly scheduled updates will resume at some point, but for now I thought I’d share another drabble. This one comes from a small collection of Harry Potter fanfic drabbles that I wrote a while ago. I was attempting to write a drabble for each important character in the book. I stopped at 18, but maybe I’ll get around to finishing the series someday.

Anyway, here’s the one I did for Harry:

It was quiet for a moment. Then a earthshaking howl echoed through the house. Harry cringed and sunk himself deeper into the space between the bath and the sink in the washroom.

He couldn’t understand what he’d done…one minute the cookie jar was on top of the refrigerator where it always was, the next it was on the floor, spilling out more cookies than logically could have fit in it. There must have been a hundred chocolate chips all over the floor.

There came another howl and thundering footfalls up the stairs.

Uncle Vernon didn’t like chocolate chip cookies.

Cats: A Drabble of Truth

Cats are magnificent creatures. They’ve adapted to the world in a most fascinating way. They are adorable creatures who spark our loving nature and cause us to take them, cuddling all the way, back to our homes. There, we feed them, let them sleep wherever they wish, and even clean up their waste by hand. And what do they do to thank us for our generosity? They ignore us, snub us, occasionally scratch or bite us, and if we’re really really lucky, when we’re doing something important, they’ll come up and sit on us.

There’s something wrong with this picture.
I wrote this drabble back when I was still working on the 100 Drabble Challenge. The reason I’m posting it here today is because of a present one of my cats left me this morning: a large pile of vomit – not a hairball, mind you, but vomit – right on the living-room rug. This rug, mind you, is an 8’x5′ area rug and is the only 40 square feet of flooring in our three story home that isn’t bare hardwood or laminate. In other words, they choose (and believe me, this has happened more than once) to expel their sickness on the one small spot of flooring in the house that cannot be simply wiped up with a soapy cloth.

Some of it was also on the pillow that we leave on the living room floor for the baby to lay on while she watches her Sesame Street videos. Insult to injury, anyone?

It’s surprises like this one that make me wonder why I ever liked cats in the first place and what insanity leads me to keep them around when all they really do is terrorize my home and expect me to clean up their excrement. Damn you, you little fuzzy balls of evil. Damn your cute little asses right to hell.