Trapping Wings

I didn’t participate last week but I wanted to try my hand at fantasy and possible humor for this week’s Twittering Tales? Or a humorous situation? Either way, this was a fun one. I wonder if I can participate in the A-Z blog challenge doing something like these little shorts?


$10,000 REWARD!
Small songbird escaped May 4th.
She has gold wings, pearl beak…’
Ell recalled the poster when she saw a bird with actual gold wings and beak of pearl.
She thought, ‘The sweet songs are lovely but I think she’s worth more than the reward.’
That day she set her traps.

© Jo-Creative PTSD Gal
Character Count: 280
Word Count: 52

Dreaming Wheel

I’m so behind on my writing and luckily I’m slow here at work for the moment. I wanted to take the time to try my hand at today’s photo prompt.


‘This is the dumbest decision ever!’ Lara scoffed buying a ticket for the Ferris wheel.
‘You said you’d be willing to try. You’ve been on some horrible dates anyway, so what’s to lose?’ Liz chided snagging one herself. The tickets read, ‘Sit and enjoy the ride. The person across from your carriage is your true love.
The girls jumped in their carriages and around they went. Lara’s turn came to meet her date when she saw Liz walking off with HER ex. Deflated, she immediately regretted everything until she saw him.
‘Hello, I’m Tucker.’
‘I dreamt of you!’
‘I know.’

© Jo Creative PTSD Gal
Word Count: 100

FOR SALE

I did my workout this morning and my body hates me. I’m in a puddle here but fell in love with the short story I was able to come up with. Positive thoughts and vibes today. Maybe another short story later.


‘FOR SALE’
Being a piano teacher I thought this piano would make a great yard ornament.
‘This is being sold as is and still plays. Will not deliver.’ I thought that was a reasonable request.
‘Must be of Christian faith and have a priest present at pickup. NO RETURNS.’
I called the number provided because this is EXACTLY what I am looking for, faith or not.
‘Do you have a strong faith and priest?’
I said, ‘I’m not much of a churchgoer.’
The seller said, ‘your choice.’

Demonic notes played all night that first night. My ad started, ‘FOR SALE’

© Jo Creative PTSD Gal
Word Count: 100

Trained Love

I needed a break, however brief, from the toxicity of work and decided to try my hand at this week’s twittering tale. This is not my usual fantasy, horror-ish theme. How about something that a young woman might have felt from a historical period? Kind of new to me but here it is.


Clara sat nervously next to strangers as her stomach turned. The echos of passing tracks below hinted her new life was soon docking.
‘Will he be good to me? Will there be love? It’s survival.’ Clara pondered.
The picture-bride was pulled closer to the station where Eli was waiting.

© Jo- Creative PTSD Gal
Character Count: 280
Word Count: 49

Crying Wolf

I have a sick little guy this morning and I’m scrambling trying to figure out what I’m going to do while he goes and lays back down. Here’s a quick little story. Happy Friday Y’all.


‘What exactly happened?’ The officer sat with a pen at the ready.
‘It was like being at a motocross race, non-stop engines revving. Windows shook and Peppy couldn’t even go outside. She just sat and shook.’
The officer looked at the little fluffy marshmallow in the corner stained with red.
Sessy continued, ‘I walked outside and warned I was going to call the cops. Next thing I know Peppy was at one of the boys’ throats and the bike was through my front wall. Is the boy ok?’
The officer chuckled, ‘He’s ok, but said it was a wolf attack?’

Word Count: 100
© Jo Creative PTSD

With new ambitions on the horizon, a quick poll will help a lot.

 

Desert Proof

Taking a little break from work and recharging my study of HTML to try my hand at another Twittering Tale hosted by Kat.


Deep in the desolate desert, a rumored oasis sits.
Shawn’s dad swore it was there but warned that it’s a wasteland for society’s failures to quell their thirst.
Ten long days he traveled and at the end of the tenth night, ‘THIS IS IT’ glowed in the darkness.
Now he sits and drinks.

Characters: 280
Words: 53
© Jo Creative PTSD Gal


I had mentioned earlier about possibly trying to publish some of my short stories let me know what you think. I’ll start adding polls to my short stories for input. Comments are welcome as well.

 

Deli Crimes

I had time today to do this little quick dark story up for the Friday Fictioneers and thought if I took all my short stories of 200 words or less and put them into a collection would anyone purchase to read? I’d like to think I’m getting good at these. Thoughts?


Crime scene tape long weathered away. The only remains of the murders is this shell of a building. The town nominated the old market as a shelter during disasters since it was the only building with its own well and generator. The owner, old man Cecil owned the store but it was his daughter that ran the deli. Each week a newly sliced deli sandwich cleverly named such as ‘Texas Two Step Brisket,’ combo would be featured on the menu, ‘for a LIMITED TIME’ always preceded the title. The dark truth of multiple victims followed the headlines, ‘Deli Sliced Nightmare.’

Word Count: 100
© Jo Creative PTSD Gal

Mom’s Words

One positive thing about my toxic work environment is downtime. I even got to play with this week’s twittering tales hosted by Kat. Y’all I think this is helping me find my own style and voice in writing not to mention honing my editing skills. I’m digging these short story prompts.


‘You lay down with dogs, you’ll wake with fleas,’ Sam’s mom warned. A friendship, once innocent quickly had a bad influence on Sam.
Now, just released on bail he crawled into bed.
‘OW!’ Sam pulled back the covers to find his bed swarming with fleas.
‘MOM!’ he yelled.
‘I told you!’

Character Count: 279
© Jo Creative PTSD Gal

Freshly Baked Secrets

I had the hardest time with this photo and I ended up in the weirdest place for the story but I ran with it.


Ana’s home has a bakery, ‘Fresh Baked Secrets’, in front where she sold secret recipes baked into sugary confections. On the table next to her register sat a vase full of gold trimmed roses. Customers had nothing but compliments about the arrangement when purchasing cookies.

We all know the darkest of secrets are behind closed doors and the basement was always locked. ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ warned the sign. This was Ana’s space where she honed skills in the darkest magic imaginable. Her cookie recipe would enchant her next victim never to be seen again. Each rose represented the innocent soul captured.

Word Count: 100
© Jo Creative PTSD Gal

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: