The Winding Street

There is a street that cannot be found on any map, wandering and slithering like a serpent through the undergrowth. Old brick and peeling plaster slink from one corner of the city to the other. Even in midsummer, there is a heavy grey fog, thick as soup, and even in midday, the crescent moon hangs in the sky.

And at the top of flickering lampposts, stars twinkle, bound in glass and iron. Long ago, an old woman reached into night and plucked them down like flowers from a meadow.

Now they light her street, long after she is gone.

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Word Count: 99

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Sandra Cook for providing the prompt photo!

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Reserving a Book

The Man in White walked between white tents. Wind tugged at the corners of his robe. The brim of his hat hid his face in shadow.

He came to a stop in front of the bookseller. She looked up at him and smiled a crooked smile from behind crooked glasses. Books rose and fell behind her on mountains of rickety shelves: dusty paperbacks, worn leather, tattered jackets, yellowed pulp.

“Anything you’re after?” she asked. “Mystery? Science Fiction? Magical Realism?”

“I seek the Book of All Souls,” the Man in White replied. “It was entrusted to you. And now the hour has come for it to be claimed.”

The bookseller coughed. “Nobody ever gave specifics on who’d be picking it up. Only that they’d come today.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying tough luck,” the bookseller replied. “I just sold it for twenty dollars to a girl with purple hair.”

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Word Count: 149

This is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Dorothy for providing the prompt photo!

Missing

He stood on the edge and breathed. His eyes closed, he felt the wind against his cheeks, the cement under his feet, and the emptiness in front of him, pulling at him like an eager lover.

He heard the screeches of tiers, the laughter of children, and the honk of horns. The city throbbed around, a living, pulsing organism.

Whispers and shouts rose up from below. People were watching him.

They were waiting for him to fall.

His heard pounded in his chest. It had to be now, before someone came up to stop him. Before he lost his courage.

A thought rushed through his mind – Flying is just throwing yourself at the ground and missing. He smiled.

And stepped out into nothing.

He felt the wind against his cheeks, the air under his feet, and the emptiness around him.

He opened his eyes and laughed.

He was flying.

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Word Count: 149

This is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Grant-Sud for providing the prompt photo!

A Dance in the Dark

Brooke’s feet pounded the pavement as she raced under the shadowy sea of dark clouds.

Behind her, the people danced, a whirling storm of limbs around the death-like figure who grew larger with each passing instant. The sway of the dance was like a storm.

Brooke drew a silver shard from her pocket.

Holding it high, she reflected the light of the Moon into the heart of the dance. The figure hissed, the light shining straight through it.

The dance ended.

The dancers drifted away as if in a haze, unaware of the shadow that had passed over them.

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Word Count: 99

This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Dale Rogerson for providing the prompt photo!

Pale Hands at Midnight

At midnight, she rummaged through the dumpster with long, pale, mud-stained fingers. All around her, other shadowy people were doing the same, their saucer-wide eyes watching for a sign of the Abovefolk.

She chanced upon two bears and a doll, neglected and forgotten. Taking them in her arms, she carried them Beneath, where all the forgotten things go.

Down in the deep, amongst mud and stone, along the twisting halls of Underneath, the children of the Underfolk play. Sometimes they laugh so loudly that you can hear them above, the faintest whisper of a giggle hanging in the quiet air.

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Word Count: 100

This is for Friday Fictioners. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Karuna for the prompt photo!

Fan-Voted Story: Part 4

What? It’s back?

Yes, that’s right! Part 4 of the Fan-Voted Story is back with a vengeance.

Unfortunately, no one voted last time, so I continued on my own. So, if you want to help shape the story about what is going to happen to Kayla, please vote down below. If you like someone’s suggestion, like it! I’ll choose the highest voted suggestion or, if there isn’t one, the suggestion that I like best.

If you want to catch up with the story, please go to the Evan Elias section of the Living Author’s Society page.

Back to the action!

Fan Voted Story: Part 3

Hello everybody!

It’s been a long time coming but Part 3 of my Fan Voted Story is here!

The winning suggestion from last time was made by Mandibelle16. Thank you for the suggestion that the ring was dark magic and there were consequences for using it.

If you need to catch up on the story, feel free to go back on the Evan Elias section of the Living Author’s Society page. While you’re at it, feel free to check some of the other authors as well, they’re very talented.

As always, please comment down below about what you think should happen and what you thought. The winning comment will dictate where the story goes from here!

Now, without further ado, let the story continue…