Prompt: Staring Down the Crocodile

Allie sat on the old rusted stands overlooking the river. Perched at the end of the third row, she could see around the river’s bend, where the rapids flattened out and the water grew slow and murky. On the far side, a crocodile floated, his pale belly and arms barely visible in the brown flow. Only his eyes showed above the water, locked on Allie.

They stared at each other, unblinking. Allie knew he could move faster than she could scramble up the bleachers, leftover from some public spectacle long before the Collapse. Now people avoided the river – and the crocs.

Which made it the perfect hideout for Allie and her sister. June had gone hunting in the early hours and taken both their handmade spear and bow. Allie had her staff and a wicked blade, but she didn’t think either would be much defense against a full-grown croc. She couldn’t tell for sure, but this one seemed small, maybe seven feet long. Savvy though, staying still and hidden for so long.

June would be mad if she pulled energy – it might draw attention. And she couldn’t always control it. They’d had to leave the commune when June pulled enough energy with her first blood to burn the fields. Even their mother turned away from her, fear in her eyes. Everyone but June, who tightened her lips until they were white and stomped across the floorboards as she threw their few possessions in two backpacks and held Allie’s hand tightly while they walked out, heads high.

Allie had tried to control it, a little each month, and she got better, enough so that she didn’t set fields or trees on fire when she pulled the energy down from the sky. But she couldn’t control it enough to be of any use for them, such as hunting, so June told her not to risk someone seeing it and finding them.

But June was gone. And Allie had sat on the cold rusty bleacher a long time. And the croc wasn’t moving as long as she didn’t, but if she tried to climb up, it might chase after her. Surely, surrounded by all this concrete and metal and water, she couldn’t do too much damage to anything by the croc? She would try a very, very little bit, the thinnest line of energy from the sky into the river. Maybe she could even cook the croc and surprise June with dinner when she returned.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, imagining a pool of light high above, spooling down in a long thin ribbon into the water across from her. The unique smell of burning air snapped open her eyes, at the same time she heard June’s voice crying out, “Allie! Allie! What have you done?”

Dogs in house	Brindle
Time writing	~30 minutes, interrupted
February word count	7,222

Prompt: Traveler of Dreams

Thanks to Anna Butler for permission to use her beautiful image, “Third Step: Traveler of Dreams”!

“You can’t take that in the boat.” The crow cocked its head and shifted its feet on the candlelit lantern, looking uneasily at Driana’s armload of fur.

Driana glanced down at the placid hrmfox, who gazed implacably at the crow. Full grown, he was mostly thick fur and weighed a mere twenty pounds, his body dangling as he rested draped over her crossed arms, his tail stretching almost to the hem of her warm cloak. A slight twitch of his large, thin, bat-like ears was the only sign he paid any heed to the crow.

“He must come with me,” she insisted calmly. After all she had been through tonight, no snippy crow was going to stand in her way. She leaned over the side of the rowboat and rested the hrmfox on the forward set.

The silver-glowing dragonflies fluttered around her, darting over the boat and toward the water, then back, as if encouraging her to follow. They would lead her to Ambion, she was sure of it. The first dragonfly had flown in through the library window when she was searching the maps for a sign of the sacred island. It had landed on a map and fluttered its wings until she unrolled the crumbling parchment, then it had dropped onto the unfurled map with a purpose that made her examine it more closely. Ambion! The island sanctuary of her dreams did exist!

As she stood, the crow eyed her balefully. “Then I want the shiny at your throat, as well as your ears,” he demanded with a sniff. “He’ll probably try to eat me for my troubles,” he grumbled.

Sweeping her long black hair away from her delicate face, Driana pulled the ruby earrings from her ears and tugged impatiently at the pendant around her throat. She felt a fierce satisfaction when the clasp broke. She had never wanted them, never wanted to be wed, and never to a fat, oily, nasty man like Rupon. 

The crow could have his wedding gift to her, and gladly. She held them in her palm, and the crow nodded to the floor in front of the hrmfox. “Let him guard them, then,” he cawed, hopping from the lantern to the stern of the boat. “Well, are you planning to stand there all night? This goes much better if you actually climb in and row, you know. If you can figure out how to do that.”

Driana suppressed a smile. No one spoke to her like that. Ever. She kind of liked it, although she wouldn’t let the crow know. She pulled up the horrid frilly hem of her wedding dress and climbed over the edge of the small boat. The oars were already resting in their rowlocks, and she picked them up with practiced ease. Pampered child princess, sold into marriage she may be, but she had grown up the baby sister to six older brothers. She was used to being underestimated.

She smiled more grimly. After tonight, she didn’t think people would be so quick to underestimate her. As she leaned down and wrapped her hands around the oars, her cloak pulled back to reveal the stain of Rupon’s blood on her white sleeves…

Dogs in house	Houdini, Brindle
Time writing:	~35 minutes, interrupted
October word count:	17,572

Prompt: Backpack, falls, crossroads, soothe, message (use at least 3 of these)

Charley lay on the sun-warmed riverbank, drying off after a long overdue bath in the deep pool below the roaring falls. Hero sat patiently by her side, keeping watch and panting as his fur also dried. He loved swimming almost as much as she did.

Finally she pulled on her mostly-dried long-sleeved tee and threadbare jeans that she’s washed in the river and dried on tree branches in the sun. She pulled on her black Lucchese boots and tucked the Ruger 9 mil in her right boot; out here, she didn’t hide it under her jeans. She hadn’t seen anyone on the trail since she’d shared a campfire with a young couple three nights ago, but you couldn’t be too careful.

She finished braiding her hip-length light-brown hair and stood, stretching and twisting before she picked up her backpack.

Hero took a few steps along the trail they had followed to the river. Charley shook her head. “Come on, boy. We have to get out to the road. Storms are coming, and we need to get some miles behind us.”

She headed towards the distant road. Hero trotted next to her and whined.  She rested a hand on his back to soothe him as they walked. “I know, boy. I don’t like it either, but we’ll be okay.”

At the road, she hiked along, turning and sticking out her thumb for the occasional car. They sped past and she shrugged and continued walking. Finally a dusty red pickup truck passed and then pulled over. As she approached, she could see a child’s head in the back seat of the cab. That bode well, although she was kind of surprised they stopped, with Hero by her side. She didn’t plan to put him in the back, so she figured this would be a quick conversation.

The passenger window rolled down. The driver was a handsome guy, maybe thirties, short hair, dark skin that made his smile extra bright. He had a long scar from the side of his right eye down his cheek and under his chin. Charley wondered what his story was, then cut off that thought. It didn’t do to ask questions. People asked them back, and she had no answers to give.

“Hey, where you headed?” he called.

“As far west as we can go,” Charley said, hoisting her backpack and resting her hand on Hero’s back again. He sat under her touch, alert and quiet.

“We’re headed to Denver. Can your dog sit on the floor in front of you? I don’t think he should go in back with Pete.” Charley leaned forward and looked into the back seat. Pete sat on a booster, bouncing with excitement, reaching both hands out to wave at her. She smiled and nodded to him.

Looking back at the driver, she said, “Yes, he’s a good dog.”

“I can see that. He’s big.”

The door unlocked. Charley swung her backpack behind the seat next to Pete and climbed in, pointing to the floor. Hero neatly jumped in and sat next to her, facing Pete. She reached out a hand to the driver. “Thanks. I’m Charley. This is Hero.”

He pulled back out onto the freeway without taking her hand. “No problem. This is Pete, and I’m Daniel.”

Charley didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until she felt the truck slowing down. She opened her eyes and jerked upright when she didn’t see Hero next to her. Looking back, she saw him curled up on the seat, with his head in Pete’s lap. Pete’s hands were fisted in his hair, and he slept with his head dropped back against the booster and his mouth hanging open in that wide, vulnerable look kids keep in their sleep longer than they do awake.

She looked around to see where they were stopping. Daniel said, “I need a break, and I figured we could grab a bite to eat…”

Charley bit her lip and wondered if Daniel and Pete would notice that she didn’t eat anything. She wouldn’t need to feed again for several more nights…

Dogs in house	Houdini, Brindle
Time writing:	35 minutes
August word count:	11,882

Prompt: River crossing

Tabitha pulled off her hiking boots and rolled up her jeans. David was already halfway across the ford, and she could see the water was still below his knees. The long-abandoned road they had followed for the past few days went straight across the river and continued on the other side into the dim forest.

David called something to her, but despite the shallow water, it made enough noise she couldn’t understand. He stood, looking over his shoulder at her, waiting for a reply, she guessed. She raised her hands up in an exaggerated shrug and called out, “I didn’t hear you!”

“It’s slippery! But come see what I found!” he shouted back.

She took a step into the water and gasped at the cold. She stood for a moment, letting it stream over her feet and ankles. It actually felt pretty heavenly after more than a week of hiking. She looked up and down stream wondering if there was a pool deep enough to bathe in.

David waved at he, encouraging her to join him. “Okay! Okay”! she said, but not really loud enough for him to hear. Adjusting to the cold, she took a careful step. The water was crystal clear, running just a few inches over the old road. Its brown concrete was broken into huge slabs, big enough for her to lie on, with a black speckling spread evenly across the light brown.

She took another step and winced, feeling sharp points under her feet. She bent down to examine the roadbed more carefully, and her eyes focused on the black speckles. They were raised, and she reached her hand into the water to touch one. It felt like a stone, but when she tried to pull it up, it felt stuck, then released with a pop.

“It’s a snail!” she exclaimed, then called to David, pointing into the water, “they’re snails!” He grinned and waved. It was like they were having two different conversations at the same time. She felt like that a lot, actually.

She gently dropped the snail back in the water, then considered how to cross. There was no way to avoid stepping on them. She walked to the side of the road, which had an unusually defined edge, with no dirt packed up against it. There were rocks all over the river bed, mostly looking flat enough for her to stand on. She saw no snails on the rocks, so she stepped onto one. And promptly slipped, almost falling into the water. The dark rocks were covered in a fine algae or moss that made her foot slide right off. She gingerly stepped back onto the road.

“Well, sorry, guys. I’ll try to step lightly,” she muttered, making her way out into the river. David was standing on the downstream side of the road, bent over to look into the water. “Hey, what’s so interesting there?” she called to him.

A long white tentacle whipped out of the water, almost faster than she could see, wrapped around David’s legs, and yanked him off the road into the river. It must be deeper than she realized, because he was pulled completely under and disappeared. He hadn’t even shouted or struggled.

She stood frozen in horror for a moment, torn between her instinct to run away and her desire to save David. She waited for turbulence, thrashing in the water, another tentacle coming after her. Nothing.

“The hell with that!” she cried out. Reaching to her back, she pulled out the taser he insisted she carry since they had been attacked in an old town several weeks earlier. She ran across the snail-covered road to the middle and looked over the edge. “Come and get me, then!” she screamed.

Dogs in house	Houdini
Time writing:	20 minutes
August word count:	8,366

Prompt: The mist flows like a river over the ground

Serrin sat in the bow, lightly holding her staff in the water to feel the water’s depth as they silently moved upstream. The pre-dawn light barely filtered through the eerie mist that flowed down the banks and pooled on the river. She looked back at Kel Jennis and shivered at the sight of his wide milky eyes. He turned toward her with uncanny precision.

“Fra Serrin.” His voice wasn’t a whisper so much as a ghost on the breeze. “We are close. The sentry must not give an alarm.”

Serrin nodded, then whispered a simple “Yes.” She knew her role on this expedition. Men never liked dealing death. She looked past Kel Jennis to Kel Barik and Fra Nessa. It would be up to her and Fra Nessa to clear their way. Nessa caught her eye and crossed her gauntlets in warning. Serrin nodded. The mist was problematic, hiding their approach, but hiding their quarry equally well. She crossed her own gauntlets and turned back to the shore.

Serrin’s staff jerked as it slid into the sandy bottom. She pulled it up and rested it across her knees as she gathered a small wind to blow the mist in soft eddies up the bank, allowing them to see their approach. But no sentry. Serrin’s neck prickled with unease. She looked back, hoping to see Kel Jennis causing her alarm. He sat motionless, staring ahead of her.

The bottom of their boat slid further against the sand, and Kel Barik quietly slipped into the water to pull them ashore. He grinned as he held out a hand to Serrin. She rolled her eyes, but took it anyway, leaping past him onto the sloping shore. They had been paired often enough for him to know that Serrin needed little help. She would have to remind him of that next time.

She led them through the mist, up the bank to the broad grassy path that led to the town wall. The mist eddied around them, fine as air, but still too thick to see their feet on the ground. The prickling ran from Serrin’s neck down her spine. No sentries. She shook her head and held her palms facing forward to sense any movement in the air.

She almost stumbled over the first body sprawled across the path.

Dogs in house	Houdini
Time writing:	20 minutes
July word count:	2,306

Prompt: Fly Away Home, New Moon, Two Brothers, Room with a View, Wild Orchid (use at least 3 of these)

Tanna thinks its punishment to send me up to the loft. She has a wicked smile she never shows Father. And it’s true the heat shimmers from the bread ovens below, cozy in winter, unbreathably hot in summer. But I have a secret. Tanna doesn’t know about the window.

You can’t really see it from the yard below, hidden by the gables, ivy, and the old oak. It was boarded over on the inside, and I only found it out of desperate boredom when she locked me upstairs for an entire week when Father and Uncle Jake took a cartload of baked goods across the river to Festival. One of the planks had come loose, and I started prying it away and discovered the glass underneath. Real glass! I wondered if Father even knew it was up here. He probably would have pried it out long ago, though. I wonder if Mother knew.

Once I had pulled off the boards that covered it up, I found the window frame held eight rippled glass panes. I couldn’t see any hinges, but there were catches along one side like the fancy picture frame Mother used to have over the hearth. Good thing Tanna didn’t know about pocketknife Uncle Jake gave me, either. I used the thick blade to pry open the catches. But the damn thing wouldn’t move. It was stuck so fast I couldn’t even figure out which direction it would go. I pushed and pulled along every edge, every grip, starting in one corner and working my way all the way around the window again and again and again. Finally, it loosened up enough to swing in the slightest bit. From then on, it was just patience and time. I will give Tanna credit for giving me plenty of both.

Opening the window was like opening the world outside. I didn’t care anymore when Tanna pulled out her switch and motioned to the stairs. In fact, I’d just as soon be hiding up here, staring out across the river and the savannah across the banks as working downstairs, wondering when she would next flick the switch across my arm, or leg, or cheek.

From up here, I could see forever, I thought. I could smell the mud on the river banks, the water flowing by, the cattle grazing, the sweet grass waving. I brought my sketchbook and drew all the birds I saw flying by, circling overhead, resting along the river banks. I drew the crocs hiding in the water, and the cattle moving in tight herds. 

Once a giraffe family joined them for a day, and I drew the baby a dozen times before darkness fell. I wanted to see if giraffes stood or lay down to sleep, but it was a new moon and no light shone on them. They were gone in the morning. How I wished I could go with them. Everywhere. Anywhere. Anywhere but here.

[TBC perhaps]

Dogs in house:	Houdini
Time writing:	25 minutes
May word count:	14,550