Prompt: 1) A van drives through the yogurt shop front window and 2) a panther escapes from the zoo

Carrie walked the empty zoo paths, making her final rounds of the Southwest exhibit. The coyotes were settling into their den, and she paused to watch the kits gambol. She was waiting for Shariya’s grumbles to startle them into the shallow cave, but there was no sound from the next enclosure. Carrie walked along the fence, looking in all the big cat’s usual hiding places. She didn’t really feel uneasy until she rounded the rock face and saw the light from the rear hallway…through the open door. “Oh, no,” she breathed.

Steve finished unloading the produce delivery in the zoo kitchen. John had signed for the delivery when he arrived and then pushed a cartload of food through the interior doors, so there was no reason to hang around. Steve actually liked the zoo deliveries, and he traded with the other drivers whenever he could. He’d loved the zoo when he was a kid, and his grandfather used to walk the trails and tell him Apache stories of the animals.

Thinking about his grandfather, Steve folded his loading cart and lifted it onto the frame inside the rear van door. Sliding the latch bolts in place, he climbed in the driver’s seat and pulled out of the delivery bay, waving to the security camera as he drove down the long drive. Emerging from the zoo grounds, he turned into the remaining evening traffic and headed back to the city.

Two blocks away from the warehouse, Steve heard a low growl from the back of the van. Shivers ran down his back, and his heart raced. Swallowing hard, he reached out slowly and pushed the power knob on the radio. In the sudden silence, he heard another long, rumbling growl. He didn’t have to see it to recognize the sound. Staring ahead, looking for a place to park and get out of the van, Steve spoke quietly, “Ndoihi…Ndoihi, I am honored. But it’s not safe for you here. Please stay where you are, and I will get you someplace—”

The cat roared. Steve felt it in his bones. His foot drove down on the gas pedal, and his hand jerked the steering wheel. His head thumped the back of the seat as the van rolled over the curb. The cat roared again, and Steve cried out, “Ndoihi!” Desparate, he pulled off his seatbelt and pushed the door open, diving out of the still-moving van. He rolled into the parking lot, then jumped up, watching in horror as the van drove straight into the glass window of the FroYo frozen yogurt shop.

The van perched on the low wall of the shattered window, rocking slowly, tires spinning. A building alarm was blaring, red and white lights flashing. Steve ran toward the wreck, then slowed as he saw the driver’s door swinging wide…

Time writing	Too long, too scattered
July word count	10,362

Prompt: someone cleans out their closet only to find something extremely unusual

“Davey, go pull everything out of the closet in your room. I want to wash the walls down before we put your stuff in there.”

Davey groaned. “But Mom!” She just gave him That Look and pointed upstairs. Davey stomped toward the stairs. When he hit the first step, his mother said, “Thanks, Davey. I really appreciate your help. Get the closet cleared out, and you can take a break and go look around the block for other kids, okay?” Davey refused to look at her, but he nodded and then continued upstairs.

He didn’t remember the house, but Cassie said they had come to visit their grandparents when Davey was two, before Daddy went to Afghanistan. She remembered a Christmas tree in the living room, and the pass-through window from the kitchen to the dining room. That was eight years ago. Daddy was gone, and now his parents, too. He didn’t understand why they had to come live in this stupid big old house.

There were four bedrooms on the second floor. Davey and Cassie were in the back two. She shared a bathroom with Mom, which meant Davey got the second bathroom all to himself. That was pretty cool, he guessed. He had a big walk-in closet, too. But it was filled with his grandparents’ junk, like the rest of the house. They were trying to go through everything. Mom called it organizing. It felt more like moving stuff from one room to another. But Davey knew better than to argue when she was slinging That Look.

They’d already gone through all the clothes, so Davey turned on the closet light and started pulling things off the shelves that lined the wall opposite the door. None of it was very interesting to him, as he carried armload after armload out into his room and spread it on the floor. When he got to the top two shelves, he pulled in his desk chair to climb up.

Reaching up to the top shelf, his hand knocked against something hard that scooted away – he followed it and clasped his fingers around a small box. Tugging it off the shelf, he carried it down and sat on his bed to open it. An old style cigar box, with pictures criss-crossed in a collage. Davey lifted the lid and peered inside. A handful of baseball cards, a few letters, a fishing lure, and a man’s ring with a tiger eye stone. Davey slid the ring on his finger and picked up the cards.

Cassie burst through his bedroom door. “Davey—”

She looked around in confusion. “Davey? Oh, Mom is going to kill you for sneaking out, you brat!” She backed out of the room and disappeared down the hall.

Davey pulled off the ring and stared at it. “Wow. What was that?”

Dogs in House	Houdini, Brindle
Music	Santana on youtube.com
Time writing	40 minutes, distracted
May word count	1,047

Prompt: Death and the Taxman

The fat man huffed and heaved as he climbed the last few steps. He flung himself onto the bench and pulled out a fine linen handkerchief to wipe his face. His companion sat silently, looking out over the view.

“Why do you always choose such faraway places? I could recommend a great restaurant in any city of the world,” the fat man complained.

A smile may have ghosted across his companion’s lips. “I’m sure you could. Next time, we will meet at a location of your choosing.”

They sat together, looking at the vista laid out before them. The fat man continued to wipe his face, his neck. He looked out, but he did not see. His companion may have smiled again.

“You’ve been busy,” he said.

“Yeah, tis the season,” the fat man grinned, folding up his damp handkerchief and tucking it into his pocket. “You know I love this time of year.”

“Indeed.”

After a while, the fat man turned to look at his companion. “What does that mean?”

“Where are we?”

“What? What do you mean? You chose this godforsaken place! Are you out of your mind?”

“No, I mean, I want you to tell me where we are. What do you see out there. Without looking.”

The fat man frowned. He looked down at his hands. He started to turn his head out to the view, but ducked it back down again. It wasn’t a good idea to ignore his companion’s questions…or suggestions.

“I…I don’t know. I mean, I know where you said to come, and I hauled my way all the way up here. But I guess I was caught up still thinking about other things just now. I don’t know what I was looking at.”

“Good. I like it when you’re honest, at least. You have much to learn, my friend. And it’s time.”

Suddenly the fat man was alone on the bench. But he wasn’t on a remote mountaintop anymore. He was in a city square. He looked around. He knew this place.

Whatever his companion had been on about, it was time to go home. He started to stand.  Losing his balance, he fell back against the bench. Two young women walking past looked alarmed and rushed toward him.

“Ma’am? Are you okay? Do you need any help?”

Ma’am?

He looked down. He was wearing a dress. And his belly was huge, but not fat. He felt something move inside him. “What have you done?” he whispered.

Dogs in house:	Houdini, Brindle, Eggs
Time writing:	15 minutes
April word count:	8,004

Prompt: One foot in front of the other

Jerrel heard the bells ring and twisted in his saddle. “Kembie,” he called, seeing his sister slouched over to the side in her saddle. “Kembie! Wake up! We have to keep going!”

Kembie jerked and straightened, stretching her arms and legs straight out to her sides. She looked up at the cloudy sky and sighed. “I’m sorry, Jerrel. Thanks. Good idea with the bells,” she replied softly.

They hadn’t seen anything crossing the dunes since they started their journey four days ago, but they both knew the dangers. Well, some of them. Kembie looked straight ahead and cast her senses wide open. She saw Jerrel’s silver glow, pulsing around him. The dim rust-colored glow of the two bechembets they rode. Nothing else. Not so much as a gold flash of a night scrim on the sand, or a flitkol catching kelsits in the air above them.

She relaxed, and her night vision returned to normal, Jerrel and the bechembets no more than dark shadows moving over the endless black sand. If they really weren’t being followed, they might make it to Paton-lau in two more nights. If they made it to the city, they only had to evade the entire city guard in order to reach safety. Home. Father.

Kembie reached into the saddle basket behind her for a flask of water and a bag of travelers’ food, the hard bread and sausage she had lived on for far too long. She’d given Jerrel her last citrule when she’d peeled it and saw him drooling. He’d caught her pass neatly and eaten it in three bites.

The bechembets were the only beasts capable of making the desert journey. They followed the ley lines back and forth between Segh-bew and Paton-lau, needing no guidance nor food nor water on the way. They plodded single-file across the dunes from sundown to sunrise, then curled into living boulders to sleep through the day. Kembie and Jerrel could rest in their shade if they stayed very still under the burning sun.

Four days gone. Mother was four days gone. Surely Segh-bew was in mourning and flitkols had been sent bearing messages to Paton-lau. But what lies had the messages told? They could trust no one until they reached the safety of their father’s palace and spoke with him in person.

Tears felt hot on Kembie’s cheeks as she held up memories of their mother like holograms she could turn under a light…

Dogs in House	Houdini
Time writing	~40 minutes
April word count	4,985

Prompt: A Mermaid in Venice

Liliana swam in the wake of a crowded vaporetti, concealed in the darkness, despite the close quarters of Venice’s Grand Canal. A young boy leaned over the edge and peered down into the water. She considered splashing him, just a little play, but she had business to attend and little time. Regretfully, she swept her tail down to let the water bus pull ahead, and she turned toward the dock of the Palazzo Dario.

A boyish young figure stood on the corner, looking up at the emerging stars, studiously avoiding looking down and drawing any attention to the water. “Psst…Marcella?” Liliana spoke softly, letting her voice carry across the water in case anyone else were close enough to hear.

The boy stepped into the light, revealing curls escaping from under a concealing fisherman’s cap. Liliana stayed low in the water as her servant climbed down the steps with a dark blanket. In the moonlight, she noticed Marcella’s curves straining against her boy’s clothes. Others would surely notice too, if they hadn’t already. Marcella wouldn’t be safe for much longer.

Marcella leaned down, unfolding the blanket until it draped almost to the water. Liliana quickly ducked under and pulled herself up the first few steps of the ladder until she could draw her tail out of the water. It only took a few moments for her transformation, and a few more for her to recover, shallow breaths carrying her past the pain.

Her legs were still wobbly as she climbed up the ladder, concealed by Marcella’s cover. “Clever girl,” she praised and stroked Marcella’s chin as the girl draped the blanket around her. “Quickly now, you have my clothes?”

“Of course, milady,” Marcella answered in hushed tones. She led Liliana to the dark side of the palazzo and held the blanket high to shield them both as Liliana quickly dressed. Her hair shed water in the night air, and Marcella twisted it into a fashionable knot, loose curls framing her face. “There, you’re ready, milady. Where are we going tonight?”

Liliana grimaced. “The Palazzo Salviati,” she said, and held up slender fingers to stay Marcella’s protest. “I know, I know. He will be there. I will be quick. There is no other way. I promise I’ll be careful.”

She turned and walked quickly down the dock. Marcella sucked air between gritted teeth and followed with stomping steps. “You always say that,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Liliana heard and smiled fiercely without looking back. It was true. She was careful. But trouble still found her. Still, she had no choice. La principessa del mare was honor bound to serve … both of her masters.

TBC…

Dogs in House	Houdini
Music	Jesse Cook, Rumba Foundation
Time writing	40 minutes, including research
April word count	4,577

Prompt: After the Fall

“Jase? Jason! Mom said come on—”

Jason looked up as his younger sister Bethany threw open his door. She stared open-mouthed as he swept the items on top of his desk into the center drawer and slammed it shut. He glared at her. “Honestly, Bebs—”

“Honestly? Jase, a techhead? How could you? What if someone saw you? What if they took you away like Daddy? What would happen to Mom and me?” Bethany burst into tears and ran from the room. She ran into her room and slammed the door shut. Jason sighed and followed her down the hall. Coming into her room and closing the door, he faltered at the sight of her standing in the middle of the room. She hugged her arms around her middle and stomped her feet. He’d taught her that trick. Let the anger chase away the sad. After Stacey died…

Jason knelt behind her and wrapped his arms around her in a big hug. Leaning his forehead against her shuddering back, he said, “I won’t get caught, Bebs. I promise. It’s just…there’s so much…I just want to see if I can make anything work.” She tugged away in his arms, and he picked her up with a squeeze. “Besides, you’ll scare away anyone who comes looking for me with that scowl,” he teased, tossing her on the bed and tickling her.

She shrieked and threw pillows at him, then climbed up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please, Jase. Be careful. Tech is bad.”

He hated to hear her parrot the party line. Hated that they taught it in school. Hated that their dad had been cuffed and carted away for trying to tinker with medical equipment when their older sister had been dying and no one could do anything about it.

Now. The technology had been lost over two hundred years ago when the Peacemaker virus swept through all the interconnected systems throughout the globe. It had been lights out for everything with, well, lights. And in the Aftermath, all tech became the enemy.

But their father, a doctor trained in a real medical school, knew stories about technology that did wonderful things. Saved lives. When Stacey got sick and he couldn’t cure her, he went looking for options, and found rebel techheads in an abandoned hospital who showed him some of what they’d been able to restore. Not much, with no power grid. But he brought back a few tools he thought might be useful.

How did they know? Did someone tell? Men showed up in the middle of the night and took him away. Stacey got worse. Then she died. If the tech could have saved her, how was that bad? Jason ran away from home and found other techheads. When he came home three weeks later, their Mom didn’t ask any questions.

TBC?

Dogs in House	Brindle, Houdini
Music	Chorus frogs
Time writing	~30 minutes
April word count	1752

Prompt: A barking bookworm must stop a village with the help of an army of monsters

Cadi heard the angry human voices and slunk behind the shelves. Hekba, her human, was arguing with the two men who had come into the bookstore, bringing cold air and wet snow and anger. Always anger.

Hiding beside the philosophers, Cadi rested her nose against one of her favorites, the green cloth binding and gold foil outline of the human and dog facing each other. She whined deep in her throat. The humans were shouting again, and she knew it was only a matter of time before their anger overtook even gentle Hekba’s kind nature and drove them to violence. It was always the way with humans.

Silently, Cadi slunk to the back door and pushed her nose and paw against the weak spots that released the latch without jostling the bells. She carefully nosed the door open and slipped outside, ruffling her fur against the bitter snap of the wind at her nose. It was dangerous, but she dared not wait. It was time to summon help.

Hiding in the evening shadows, Cadi ran swiftly through the small village where she had spent her last five lives. She snorted with brief-lived amusement at the humans' belief that only cats had more than one. This life with Hekba had been her favorite so far. She fought the uneasy feeling that it was about to end with fire and death. So much death. Worse than her third life. She shuddered and ran past the last house and into the dark forest.

There was no moonlight and no trail. Cadi opened her senses and felt her way toward the gadjibo. If she could find them. If she could warn them. Was it too late to save them? To save the humans from their own fears and hatred? To save Hekba, her favorite human since sweet young Dabo so many years ago?

Pain lanced through her right forepaw as she stumbled and yelped, then snapped her mouth shut in dismay. She sat on her haunch and held up her paw. Blood on the pad—she had stepped on something sharp. She glanced behind, but even the starlight her eyes drew in was not enough to reveal the culprit.

She could show no weakness to the gadjibo. She hoped the human stories she had been collecting would be enough. They might not listen. They might like her blood more than stories. They might tear her to pieces. Foolish pup, she snapped at herself. Wipe your paw and be on your way. You do as you must and they will too.

Cadi ran on. A ring of ancient trees around a rising barrow. Be brave, she exhorted herself, imaging Hekba’s comforting hands on her fur. She ran up the barrow and crested the top. She froze. So many gadjibo! As far as she could see in the starlight, their eyes reflected back at her. She swallowed a whine and shook her ruff. Her first bark sounded weak, even to her own ears. The eyes stared, unblinking. She stepped forward and barked again, then again, gathering courage to call the gadjibo to help her save the humans from themselves…

Note: Hat tip to the "Really Random Plot-o-Tron - Traditional Fantasy Edition" for the prompt!

Dogs in House	Brindle, Houdini
Music	Martine Kraft, Fragile Mind
Time writing	20 minutes
April word count	507