Prompt: “Your doorbell rings. You answer the door and find this on your front porch. You yell into the house, “We’ve got another one!”. Finish this. Part 1.

I was used to strange. I could handle strange. But, the constant stream of strange that had been flowing through my front door since the news broke last week was about to break me.

The doorbell chimed.
My right eye twitched.

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Prompt: “I regret sleeping on that couch.”

I regret sleeping on that couch.” He thought to himself as she came into view.

The rapid fire clicks of the mechanical keyboard came to an abrupt halt. The cursor pulsed, patiently waiting for the next hammering barrage.

Breath he didn’t know he was holding exploded suddenly from between clenched teeth. His glasses fogged immediately in the cold air of the tiny apartment providing a temporary respite from the present view and predicament. She moved quickly with an efficiency of movement which should be at odds with the silly song she was singing in various tones, but like everything else she did, it somehow worked.

“Hey, Ground Control to Major Tom, you with me?”

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Prompt: Write a story about snow that isn’t snow.

Didn’t get around to writing tonight, so enjoy an older prompt of mine originally posted on a tumblr blog my sister and I share:

I looked up from the microscope and blinked slowly.

Surely not, the only thought my mind could manage.

I dragged my hand through unkempt, tangled hair. I spent time slowly and deliberately tucking wayward curls behind my ears, buying myself time to comprehend the enormity located just two feet away. Continue reading