Saturday, June 25, 2011

Christmas Joy

Emily tore through the presents under the tree, her claws ripping into gift wrap and tissue paper and tossing it all aside like a rag doll. She did get a doll actually. From her Aunt Ruth. Too bad she was too old for dolls.

The porcelain doll hit the floor with a thud, her little face cracking down the middle. When Emily had finished opening cameras, clothes, and jewellery, she turned on her parents like a wolf.

"Is that all there is?"

Her mom blinked away tears and her dad glared at her.

"You've been given over twenty gifts, even one from Santa--"

"You mean you."

Her dad frowned.

"Isn't that enough?"

Inspired by Carry on Tuesday and Sunday Scribblings.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Maffick Monday has begun

Hey all,

The first Maffick Monday prompt is now up. Yes, it is up early but I'm going to be camping so for this post it is Maffick Friday.

So come post and have fun.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Maffick Monday announcement

Hey guys,

I'm going to be coming out with a new writing prompt blog. I'm hoping to get it under way this coming Monday but if not then the next. Come check it out:

As the name suggests, the prompts will be posted on Monday. They will be from one of three categories every week (setting, plot, or character).

So come check out Maffick Monday to find out the definition of "maffick" and to get writing.

Get a Grip

A thread poked its head out from the hem of my blouse. I gripped its neck and held tight. I would've preferred our first date be somewhere nice. A restaurant or something. But Mick wanted to go to a scary movie. You just didn't say no to the most popular guy in school. I was lucky he asked me out.

The screen flashed in font of me when the moon shone through the bedroom window. The young girl heard a sound and dove under the bed.

"No," I whispered. "No, he'll find you. Leave the house!"

A creak and then footsteps. The woman's breathing was too loud. Sheets lifting....

A scream. Mine or hers?


Mick looked at me and snickered under his breath.

Monday, June 13, 2011


Slipping through my fingers
Like flower petals

Inspired by Carry on Tuesday.


Walking through the halls of Bennet High, I pretended the marbelled floors were made of sand. I walked as if my feet sunk low and then lifted, low and then lifted. I pretended my shoes had been cast by the ocean (the lockers served this purpose) and, before dancing in small circles, my head spun to check both sides of the hall. No one was there.

I spun and spun and spun. And then I stopped. Footsteps sounded around the bend, coming from the caf. I rushed to my knees to slip my flip-flops back on, running down the hall away from the sound.

Flip-flop. Flip-flop. Flip-flop.

Voices followed the footsteps. I knew those voices. My hand dug into the pocket of my Walmart jeans and my fingers hugged the plastic, craft-store seashell. Faster now.

Flip-flop. Flip-flop. Flip-flop.

And then I saw them. Which means they could see me.

Two of the girls had gone around to ambush me. There they stood, blocking my only exit from Bennet High. The other three came behind. A hand on my shoulder. A hissing in my ear. And then I was on the ground. Yelling.

I clutched the seashell when one foot and then another dove into my side.

Inspired by Magpie TaleS: