Prompt: After accidentally setting a forest fire, a retired ballet dancer wakes up in a strange house

Courtesy of Jay Sacher’s The Amazing Story Generator

Nicola tread lightly over the deep leaf litter. She carried herself with a dancer’s poise even after all these years. A mourning pigeon burst from the ground cover, startling her, and her arm flung up in a graceful curve, fingers outstretched, then curling into a wistful wave. She still dreamed of flying.

It was Nichole, of course. Her mother had insisted that an exotic name would be more attractive on playbills and marquees. As a girl, Nichole loved the idea. As a rebellious teenager, she was reasonably certain her name wasn’t the source of her fame. But it was too late by then.

Around the trail’s curve, she was stopped by a fallen tree. Her hand fell to her hip. She rubbed against the old familiar pain. The congenital dysplasia that eroded her bones until she could no longer dance, no longer walk. The doctors insisted she shouldn’t feel anything with the titanium skeleton that supported her now. They said the pain was imaginary, in her head…a ghost, like amputees who still feel their missing limbs.

She crouched and pushed up, jumping easily over the tree, arms and legs outstretched in a grande jetée, landing in a glisée and turning into a pirouette. Ah, how she missed the stage. Heat raced from her core, shooting out through her arms and legs. She moaned and clenched her fists, swinging around until she hit the nearest sapling. Sparks flew around her, and the dry leaves underfoot began to snap and curl as they burned. Nichole ran…

Note: This actually took me by surprise, because I had thought of a fantasy-style version, where Nichole placed her hands on the tree and her anger flowed out in flames. Where did the science-fiction skeleton come in?!

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And so, with a loving heart, I offer you

Namaste

I’ve heard many translations. Here’s my favorite:
The light of the universe that shines within me recognizes
the light of the universe that shines within you.

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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

Prompt: Bigfoot, person with a toothache, broken promise, wrong way

He moaned as he lay in the nest of soft leaves he had built over the fall, deep in the cave’s comforting darkness. His jaw was on fire, pain lancing from underneath his mouth along the side of his head to point behind his ear. He turned his head side to side, opened and closed his mouth, but nothing helped.

Is this what prey feels? He thought. Is this my end time? He had no words, no speech to voice his agony. Only instinct shaped by a life alone in the wilderness. Everything had an end time – plants, animals. He must too. He didn’t know it would hurt so much.

Help? He tried to frame his inchoate thoughts. Out there…help? He had always avoided the white animals who yelled and chased him. He did not want to be prey. But could they help him now? Help pain end time?

He groaned and rolled over in the next, climbing to his feet. Stumbling through the leaves, he hid in the darkness at the edge of the cave. He usually did not go out in the bright yellow light – that was when he saw the white animals. He clutched his hand to his jaw. It was hot to the touch, and moving it made him moan again as pain shot through his head. Help pain end time…he staggered out of the cave’s entrance, dropping his inner eyelid to shield his sensitive eyes from the intense yellow light…

Note:

Very short beginning...

...as I started, I thought it would be fascinating to try to get into the head of someone without a full command of speech. We talk about "internal monologues" - what would that be like for someone who didn't have a complex language system? Probably would require much more intensive world-building than I'm prepared to do for a brief sketch, but an intriguing idea...

Dogs in house	Houdini
Time writing	~20 minutes, interrupted
February word count	5,912

Prompt: Searching for neutral ground

Thanks to one of my favorite artists, Artur Rosa, for permission to use his lovely, "Archipelago 27"!

Makim stood motionless in the shelter of the trees and watched the figure walking along the shore. If she hadn’t recognized her mother’s form the moment she appeared, Makim would have fired a warning shot by now.

As it was, she kept a vigilant watch in case any others from the Archipelago appeared. There was no one else she would hesitate to shoot, including her mother’s mate. Makim refused to call him father.

Makim was on sentry, for the Exiles never knew when the Archipelago might send troops to sweep the forest. A guard stood watch on each port entry along the twenty-mile shoreline, and a sentry leader held central position to relay alarms from any one. Makim’s shift was two days gone, three to go. Mostly it was boring and tedious, watching flocks of fist-sized black-winged pleekots fly across the cloudless sky.

Her camoshield jumpsuit rippled colors tight across her skin, reflecting the forest behind her, the ocean before her, and the silver sheen of the two moons above. She gripped her forearms, taking comfort in the slender blades resting under the camo fabric. Her long dark hair swung loose, hiding her face as the chill north shore breeze swept past.

Makim looked out at the luxurious mansions that framed the closest island fortresses of the Archipelago. Some looked like mirrored rings around the steep, impregnable slopes of the tiny islands that thrust like bullets out of the ocean. Some rested on top, perfectly balanced no matter the fierce winds that swept across the water. Makim grew up looking inland, dreaming of the ultimate luxury -- freedom.

Looking down, she saw her mother had crossed the sand and was struggling to climb the rocky dunes. Narrowing her eyes, she turned again and studied the shoreline and forest, searching for any other guards who might sound the alarm. They would shoot first and ask questions later. But Makim had a question that burned in her chest day and night. She left the trees’ shelter and headed toward the steep dune. Finally she would have the chance to ask her mother.

Why?

Dogs in house	Houdini, Brindle
Time writing	25 minutes, interrupted
January word count	3718

TA DA! One Full Year Complete! [Prompt: Stairwell in the forest]

*Bowing* A blog post every single day in 2013. Every. Single. Day.

Thanks to so many of you for your encouragement over the past year. Special thanks to the many artists on deviantart.com and elsewhere who have so generously allowed me to share their inspiring images with you. And to Anne for sharing much of this adventure with me. I’ve really appreciated your creativity and support.

Still ruminating on the blog’s direction in 2014. But for now, one last story to round out the year. Enjoy!

Prompt: Stairwell in the forest

Thanks to “psdeluxe” for permission to share his beautiful image, “Forest”!

Dabren followed about twenty paces to Kingla’s left, sweeping his scanner side to side as they crept through the ancient forest. They had pulled off their helmets but kept the atmo films over their nose and mouth.

Technically they could breathe the oxygen-rich air, but it was hard to concentrate. When he got that much oxygen, all he wanted to do was take her back to the pod and…well, it was better to keep the film on.

He could tell by Kingla’s jerky motions that she was getting frustrated. Her whole career was riding on this venture. He was just the engineer keeping things going. She had the research community – and the rest of the galaxy – waiting with bated breath for their findings.

Which so far had been zilch. Nothing. No sign of HLS – high level sentient life forms – at any of their target landings. If they didn’t find something soon, they’d get recalled, and Kingla would be a laughingstock. A failure of epic proportions.

So yeah, the stakes were high, and she was wound tight as a coil on the pod’s engines. He cut her a lot of slack when she snapped at him, which she did frequently. She always made it up to him in the dark.

They entered a clearing in the trees. Kingla followed the curve of the water stream away from the pool, intent on her scanner. Dabren heard wind sweep through the leaves overhead and looked up from his own scanner. And stared.

“Kingla,” he said softly.

“Kingla!” He almost shouted. She turned around, a retort on her lips, whitened by the film. Her jaw relaxed and her eyes widened. He would have laughed if he didn’t feel the same way.

Steps. A curving staircase. Ancient. Rotting wood. He wouldn’t dare to climb it. Covered in moss, they curved around the far side of the pool.

His scanner trembled in his hand as he followed the line of the staircase. He thought it ended against the massive tree on the opposite side of the pool. But it didn’t. It ended in midair.

He glanced over at Kingla. She was moving toward the steps. “Kingla, don’t! It could fall apart before we have a chance to study it!”

She didn’t turn around. “I’m not an idiot. I don’t plan to step on it. Go back and get the gear pack. I want to climb up that tree next to it.”

“But it’s not—”

“Not attached,” she breathed as she came close enough to see. “Where does it go?”

Good question.

To be continued, perhaps…

Dogs in house	Houdini, Maize, Malachi
Time writing	~30 minutes, interrupted
December word count	12,036