The medium prompt is now closed.
The new prompt, courtesy of Amy, is bars.
Cordelia ,'The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco'
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
The medium prompt is now closed.
The new prompt, courtesy of Amy, is bars.
Hey, it's Sunday.
I guess that means the bars prompt is now closed.
How about a photo drabble?
Photos One through Five are taken from the Library of Congress' photostream on Flickr.
Photos Six through Ten are taken from the Look at me site.
Crap! I am so dense.
Crap! I am so dense.
What?
I forgot to do the drabble.
Me, too. Not that I had one. Which is probably why I forgot.
Me too. Crazy, busy week.
Okay, so I don't miss it again, here's photo five:
Fate
"...beam snaps, the wheel buckles and collapses. Those people get trapped and crushed."
I listened with macabre amusement, while wondering how many goddamn cycles were left. That should teach me to ride with a stranger.
"This side will bend closer to the ground.” She turned to look at me, wide-eyed. Her tone was now pleading. Urgent. “That’s when you must jump. You'll fracture your ankle, but roll to safety."
"And you?" I couldn't resist.
Her voice resumed its eerie calmness. "I die."
You know the rest. I’ll still never understand one thing. Why did she get on the ride?
Nice one!
Never mind the rest. Wolfram beat me to it.
here's one for #6. Other than being 100 words I don't think it's a true drabble since I think you can see the twist ending coming.
We tried not to hang around Dad at the summer place. We were embarrassed of his little swim trunks and the board he never learned how to ride. Mom spent most of her time chatting with the other moms. Dad tended to hang around with Uncle Henry. He never married; he was such the gentleman, and a gentle man. Back from the beach he’d help Mom in the kitchen or take me out on the porch to trim my unruly bangs. Looking back now, I can’t believe it never occurred to me he and Dad were more than just friends.