Writing Prompts

I belong to a local writing group and our meetings usually start with a writing prompt.

The fascinating thing about these prompts are how many truly different stories can arise from a single prompt. Since our group has horror, sf and fantasy authors; all three types of stories may well be represented.

If you gave the same writing prompt to 100 different writers, you would get 100 different stories. It's quite likely that some would be similar, but you have a few people who took the prompt in a completely different way. You would have a few people who managed to create a twist for the ending. Some of the stories would be short, others would be much longer.

A couple of the flash fiction stories I have posted on my web site started as a group writing prompt. They needed a bit of work, and usually a proper ending, before they could be posted. They were quite different from stories by our other members though.

The Muse

Some artists rave on about their Muse. You can tell it’s meant to be with a capital M. 

Their Muse helps them soar to new heights. Without their Muse present, they can’t work.

Let me tell you, my Muse is a damned bitch. 

She never shows up when I’m hoping she will. I sit at the keyboard, slowly typing away. The daily word count struggle as ten words become twenty and twenty reach 100.

It’s about the time that the word count loses importance that the bitch Muse shows up. She wants to take credit for all the words. 

But I won’t give her the satisfaction. I worked hard on those first words of the day. They took real effort. 

And no bitch Muse is going to claim credit for them.

The next time she shows up, I am chaining her to the desk.

Time - A short story

“Once upon a time.” Doesn’t that sound like a typical and safe story start?

Of course, if you think that, then you don’t understand time. Time hates to be called into account. He hates to be mentioned in any form.

He also has a long memory and a taste for revenge. Beware of beginning any tale as “Once upon a time”.

You don’t believe me? You think time is merely a concept? A construction? Have you not heard the tale of Manuel the Bard? Nor that of Cassandra the Storyteller?

Sit and listen as I tell you more…

—

Manuel the Bard was the most amazing performer. He could sing and play on his guitar all the best known songs without flaw and wrote his own music on a regular basis.

He decided to compose a new piece celebrating the life and love of the Lady Feinal. Her beauty was still much discussed, even though she and her husband Prince Aekyn had lived and died more than 200 years before.

Unfortunately for Manuel, he began his ballad with “Once upon a time”.

Time took offence and then upon a revenge.

Manuel grew older and older. His sight was weak, his hearing gone, his fingers too curled to play an instrument. Still he lived. All his friends died and still he lived. In fact, he still lives though he wishes he did not.

—

Then there was Cassandra the Storyteller. She always held her audiences spellbound with her tales. She knew the old folk tales, tales of the gods, and tales of the travellers that had returned from seeing the world. All this and she had yet to reach her twentieth year.

Everyone in her town loved Cassandra. She was welcome in every home, and would be offered food and a bed during her visits. In exchange, she would entertain the household for the night.

There was a fateful evening where Cassandra started her story with “Once upon a time…”

Time struck back.

For Cassandra, the days suddenly began to fly by. By the end of a year, she had aged ten. Five years for the rest of the town was fifty years for Cassandra. During the sixth year after uttering the phrase, she had passed of old age. She looked to be eighty even though her real age was 26.

Never begin a story with “Once upon a time…” Time does not like that.

The Student and the Magician

(This story was based on this prompt from Seventh Sanctum. "This is a tale of personal transformation. The story is about a smooth magician. It takes place in a keep in a university town. The story climaxes with someone getting lost. A magical accident plays an important role.")

“Yo, Bailey, you going to the show tonight?”

“What show? I’ve been so deep in my coursework that if it’s not in one of my books, I haven’t noticed it.”

“Campus art gallery has a magician doing a show tonight. It’s 20 bucks to get in, part to pay for his appearance and part to pay for some renovations,” Ollie replied. “His show is supposed to be pretty good.” Ollie slapped at the book on the table. “And you really need a break, mate.”

“I must have been out of the dorms at least once today,” Bailey huffed.

“I might believe you’ve been out once this week. But not today or yesterday.” Ollie tapped Bailey on the head. “Your brain is going to be mush. Nothing but mush. Tell you what, I’ll shout the first drinks.”

“It’s in the gallery, Ollie. There may not be drinks,” Bailey protested. He tried to concentrate on the book in front of him.

“Of course there will be drinks. Where do you think the REAL money for the renovations is coming from? Overpriced beer, but you can get slapped with penalties if they catch you sneaking some in.” Ollie reached over and closed the book. “Come on, it will be fun.”

“Are you going to take no for an answer?”

Ollie gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’d rather you said yes, but I’m not going to drag you there. So, I guess I’ll have to find some hottie to buy a drink for.”

Bailey stood up and stretched. “Well, if you are going to twist my arm,” he said as he held out one arm. Ollie lightly grabbed the wrist and gave it a tiny twitch. “OUCH! All right, all right, I’m going,” Bailey laughed.

“The show starts in 2 hours. Time for you to change your clothes and we can grab a burger before heading for the gallery.”

“Change my clothes?”

“I swear you have been wearing the same shirt all week. Go on, get changed and we can take off.”

---

They arrived at the campus gallery half an hour before the show was due to start. As Ollie predicted, there were drinks available. The choices were overpriced beer or overpriced wine by the glass.

“I love the high class,” said Bailey as he grabbed the plastic cup.

“Don’t bitch about it. After all, this one is on me. When you buy a round, then you can complain about the plastic.” Ollie took a gulp of beer. “Besides, can you blame them? I’m sure they will have plenty to clean up as it is. They don’t need broken glass everywhere.”

“Dude, check out this sculpture. I swear, we should be art students. My baby sister could do better than this.” Bailey was staring at the twisted form on the pedestal. It was composed of ‘found’ objects, namely trash collected from around campus.

“You know why we aren’t art students. The odds of being successful at it are too low. I know I don’t want to spend four years just to flip burgers because I can’t find a job.”

“Not every business student finds a job,” protested Bailey.

Ollie shook his head. “Our odds are still way better. Especially if we do well at one of the special subjects in the last year.”

They wandered around, looking at the other art while waiting for the show to start. A couple of beers later and the art was looking much more interesting. Much of it was for sale, but neither of them had the inclination or cash to think about buying anything.

---

The magician was Malthos the magnificent. The show itself was pretty decent given that it was a small stage in an art gallery. Bailey was certain Malthos could do more, if he had a more elaborate place to set up. As it was, the magician had made a lot of things appear and disappear. His pretty assistant had been through the crowd a few times, much to the delight of the guys.

“Now for my next trick, I would like a volunteer from the audience.”

“Here’s where they grab a plant, wonder who it will be?” said Ollie in an undertone to Bailey.

Malthos scanned the audience a few times. Several people raised their hands but his eyes barely paused as he looked around. He pointed directly at Bailey. “You, sir. Would you kindly approach the stage?”

Bailey looked around but everyone was already applauding and the assistant had a firm grasp on his arm. “Right this way, if you don’t mind.”

“But I do mind. Take someone else.”

His protests fell on deaf ears. He gave up and let himself be led up on the stage.

“Now, kind sir, your name please.”

“Bailey.”

“And have we met before, Bailey?”

Bailey shook his head. “We definitely have not.”

“Now, all I need you to do is step into the magic cabinet, right over here. Will you do that for me, Bailey? Don’t worry about anything, just step inside.”

Bailey nodded and stepped into the box. He heard Malthos talking to the audience as he shut the door. He began to worry about his next exams. They were soon and Bailey wasn’t as prepared as he wanted to be. “There are times when I wish I were somewhere that exams didn’t matter. Grades didn’t matter. For that matter, somewhere that universities don’t even exist.”

Time passed and Bailey grew tired of standing. “Ready or not, here I come,” he said as he pushed open the door.

He was in a lush green forest. He looked back but the cabinet was gone. “Where am I? How do I get home?”

The Lights - a short story

Henry came home after work. He went into the kitchen to get the daily newspaper and then walked over to the living room light switch. When he flicked the switch, there was a brief flash and a pop as the light burnt out.


"Martha, could you get me a light bulb. This one in the living room just went out."


"I'm sorry, dear, but there aren't any left in the house. I had four extras but this is the fifth light bulb to go out this week. I should have bought some more at the store but I thought that after four bulbs in one week, we wouldn't need any more for a while."


Henry grumbled as he looked around for another place to read the paper. He finally settled in the dining room. Just as he settled down to read, there was another pop. One of the lights in the chandelier had died. Fortunately for Henry's temper, there was still enough light to read by.


The next day at work, Henry found the light in his office had gone out. He called the maintenance department, who promised to come right over and replace the bulb. It took two hours for maintenence to come and the office was too dark during that time for Henry to read any of the reports on his desk. Finally, there was a knock on his door, and a voice said, "Maintenance."


"What took you so long? I called your office three times, trying to find out where you were, and all I was told was that you were on your way." "Well sir, we had go out and buy lights, and we've spent the rest of the morning trying to catch up on replacing them. I don't know why but we never just have one light go out. It's always a lot of lights, and we never seem to keep enough extra bulbs in stock."


Henry thought about the coincidence of lights burning out, but soon he forgot about it. At lunchtime, down in the cafeteria, he run into Thomas Chambers, one of the company's best research and development men. He decided to pull Thomas's leg a little.


"Hey, Tom, I have a little problem for you to work on. Why is it that light bulbs always burn out in clusters?"


Tom chuckled, "Is this one of this new cosmic problems caused by the invasion of earth? Henry, you're going to have to do better then that if you want me to believe you. Next thing, you'll be telling me about a guy in a red suit, and a bunny that delivers eggs." They talked about other things while they finished their lunch and both of them forgot about light bulbs.


Tom's lab was working on an automatically fastening seatbelt. The work had just progressed to the final testing stage when the lab was hit by a plague of lights burning out during critical moments. First, there was the light over his desk, then the one one over the scaled down model of their new belt, then the light right over the full scale seat belt fastener just as they were trying to test it.


"Henry may have been just joking around last week but he may just have a point." Tom did a few quick calculations on his computer. “Definitely, the odds against a coincidence are almost astronomical."


Tom set up an experiment in his lab which had a series of ten lights automatically turned on and off, four times every hour. There were five cameras set up to film the lights. The cameras took a picture once every minute.


After a week, Tom developed the film. At first, the only thing he noticed about the lights was when one of them would burn out, another would go out within two more on/off cycles. Then he noticed an odd blur on one picture just before a light burned out. That blurry spot was far too small to be human and there were no animals allowed in the lab.


Tom replaced one of the cameras with a high speed movie film. This was set up to take pictures just before the light was due to come on. On this film, Tom got an image of a small creature that appeared just before the light burnt out. He spent the afternoon making a still picture from the film. He rang Henry on the office telephone. "Met me at the pub on the corner, after work. I've got something to show you."


Tom had been served a drink by the time Henry arrived at the bar. "Drink up," said Tom, "I think you'll need one before I show you what I brought." Henry ordered his drink and waited until he was half through before he spoke.


"Well, what's this about? I can't spend long here, Martha hates it when I'm late."


"Remember the problem about lights you talked about a couple of weeks ago?"


"Are you trying to get even for that simple joke?" "No, I found the answer. There is a reason why lights always burn out in groups." He handed Henry the picture he had developed that afternoon.


Henry stared at the picture. There was a small furry beast, standing on the ceiling of a room, doing something to a light. It had large hands and eyes. "Good fake. How did you do it, put a light on the floor done up like the ceiling?"


"It's real, I swear. Hard to believe but true."


"What is it? I've never seen anything like that before."


"You remember in world war II when a plane went wrong, they would blame gremlins? As far as I can tell, that's what this is. My theory is that they consume power, and after the war, they decided to go after the most common appliance they could find."


The men stared glumly at the picture. "What hurts is that I don't ever dare tell anyone about this. I'd never be believed again. But I've put traps around all the lights in the lab. Maybe, someday...when I've caught a specimen to show people."


"Yeh, but if they were easy to catch, wouldn't someone have done it by now."

Random Story

There were two weeks left to go. How could there only be two weeks? Was I ready? 

I opened the door leading to my domain. The first thing I heard was the scurrying feet of the rats.

Thank the gods, the rats were obviously breeding well. It’s one of the first things that the judges would look for. 

That was always one of the problems, starting a new dungeon. It wasn’t too hard to get it to the proper degree of mould and mildew. As long as the dungeon was below ground level, as long as there were cracks in the floors and walls, you’d get the mildew.

Vermin counts were always important for a dungeon. Not only rats, but roaches and spiders had to be plentiful if you wanted to win. I had no problem with getting a good roach population. Like the rats, as long as the guards threw scraps in the corners, the roaches would come.

Spiders though, I’ve been having problems with the spiders. I was hopeful that today’s shipment would make it much less obvious that there was only one spider actually living in my dungeon. That one was a jumping spider so it didn’t produce webs. Damn the gods.

I decided to inspect the equipment next. The rack had been a problem. It was so difficult to make it look well used and old when it had been installed new a mere six months ago. I had finally started making serious progress on ageing the rack by a combination of chicken blood and water. The vermin chewed at the leather bits, the water began damaging the iron. 

I was about to start my final inspection of the day when a guard entered the dungeon. “Master Flay? Your delivery is here.” The guard barely got out the words and then fled to the main part of the castle.

I went to get my delivery. It was half a dozen crates. They were very light, but they were meant to be so.

“I need you to sign here,” the delivery man handed me his clipboard.

“You must be joking. I won’t sign until I can inspect the goods and I’m not about to do that out here.” I looked around. Where was my useless assistant. “Boy!” I bellowed. “Come!”

It was a few moments later before I heard the footsteps. Damn. “I wanted Bobby,” I snarled as I turned around. 

“Sorry, Master. It’s Betty today.”

I hope Bobby will be there when the dungeon is judged. Betty goes for curls and bows, not at all the look of a dungeon assistant.

Mind you, Betty is far more blood thirsty, if we are doing some business.

“Right, Betty, I want you to help me carry the crates inside. We’ll open them up in the main chamber.”

“I’m not supposed to let this shipment go out of my sight,” protested the delivery man.

I grinned at him. “You are welcome to come with them. Betty and I won’t mind a bit.”

The dude backed off a few paces. “You promise to sign if the shipment is satisfactory?”

“I will.” I had to or the supplier may never fill my orders again. It’s so hard to find dungeon supplies these days.

Betty and I carried the crates inside. We opened one to find that the crate was nearly filled with fine webbing. A few of the spiders escaped, but that’s why I wanted to open the boxes inside, not out.

“You start putting the webs in the corners. I’ll go sign for the shipment and help.”

I went back out and signed for the crates. The webs would make the dungeon as close to perfect as I was going to have it this year.

The only other factor that is considered is the prisoners. We still only had two. The scruffy revolutionary, by now impossible to recognise under the tangled matt of hair. Half starved, scarred and he spent his days chattering to himself. The other was the witch. The rags left to her after five months no longer disguised the fact that she was middle aged. She had been in decent shape when she first arrived but now she just cackled madly.

In other words, my prisoners were everything I could hope for. It’s just that there are so few.

I envy Master Drawn. His dungeon is over 100 years old. Every cell has at least three prisoners and all the equipment has been repaired many many times. It’s so hard to compete against that sort of tradition.

Who knows, he has won every year for 10 years. Maybe the judges will look for something new.

At least now I have my spiders.

Random story - start

“You must follow the path through the mountains,” the spirit guide told the dreamer. “Beyond the mountains is the river. Cross the river then you will see.”

She woke, breathing hard. It was the third week running that she’d had the same dream. She could no longer deny that it was a true dream.

In the morning, Portia went to the elders hut. “Greetings, most honoured ones,” she bowed politely to the elders. “I have had my true dream.”

“Come closer, child,” beckoned one of the elders. “You are what age now?”

“Fifteen summers,” Portia replied.

“Your true dream comes late for you. Most girls have their true dream by their fourteenth summer. Tell me about your dream. Start with your guide.”

Portia swallowed hard, this was why she’d left the dream twice over. “My spirit guide is a chipmunk,” she whispered.

The elders looked at each other. “The spirit guide symbolises who you are meant to be. The owl is wisdom. The wolf is loyalty. The eagle is freedom. The deer is serenity. But…” he paused. “We have no knowledge of what the chipmunk symbolises. Are you certain, child?”

“Yes, elder. I am certain. For the past three weeks, the chipmunk has visited my dream. And each time, it says the same thing.”

“Go on.”

Portia told the elders exactly what the chipmunk had told her.

“That at least is clear. You say that the dream started weeks ago? Why did you not tell us?”

“I was,” Portia sighed. “I was hoping that it wasn’t my true dream. I wanted to dream…” she stopped. Portia was embarrassed by her true desire.

“You wanted to dream that you were to marry Hactef, did you not?” asked a female elder. “Your feelings toward him have been noticed.”

Portia nodded. “I had hoped.”

“Hopes do not engender the dreams. You should have come to us sooner, child,” the elder chided gently.

“I know. I am sorry, elders.”

“We will have to prepare you for your journey. Are you ready to begin?”

Portia’s eyes widened as she slowly nodded. “Today is your day of fasting. Tomorrow is the day of cleansing. Then we have the feast.”

One of the elders came forward. “Come, child. I will take you to the place where you will fast.” They left the hut of the elders. Portia knew the way to the special hut as well as any in the tribe. But her steps were as slow as the elder would allow, the reality of having her true dream recognised wasn’t what she’d hoped for.

The special hut was set aside for any of the rituals of the tribe. It was isolated from the rest of the huts.

“Mediate or sleep. Someone will bring you food to break the fast when it is time.”

exorcist part 2

“I cannot believe you. Those that are damned to roam the earth need more than an earthly power to send them back to where they belong. Are you sure you haven’t been blest by a priest?”

I shrugged. “Well, I might have been baptised. I don’t know.”

“How can you not know something as important as that?”

“My parents died when I was very young. I don’t remember anything before the orphanage.” I looked at Sister Anna. “I wish I had known my parents, but I never did.”

Sister Anna stared hard at me. “My parents died too. Someone took me to the church and I was raised by the nuns. Naturally, I became one.”

“Sister, there is nothing natural about being a nun. Not a fucking damned thing.” Very gentle dissuasion wasn’t working. Maybe cruder language would make Sister Anna leave me alone.

“Gerald Finster! What would you know about natural?” She took a step toward me, shaking one finger. “You go from place to place, claiming to exorcise demons. How can you claim my life is unnatural.”

Damn, I was hoping she’d take the hint. Apparently Sister Anna was immune to language. Unfortunately, she also had a point. I didn’t have a home, family or even friends. I didn’t stay anywhere more than a few days, ever. Maybe embarrassment would work where cussing failed me. “Have you a method for determining if it’s the same demon time after time? I have no way of knowing.”

She blinked at me a few times. “Not really, I need to talk to a priest about it.”

“Why don’t you do that? When we met again, you can tell me.” With any luck, that should keep her away from me.

exorcist part 1

This is a comedy-of-errors. The story is about a logical nun who is constantly annoying an exorcist. It starts in a house in a village. The master villain of the story actually must be defeated in several different forms. Writing prompt generated by Seventh Sanctum

—-

“I’m so grateful that you could come and see,” the woman told me.  The woman’s voice was an irritating high pitched squeaky one. She found out what I did when I drank a bit too much in the local tavern. I never did learn to watch my mouth after I’d had a few. 

“Can you save my Charlie? I know he’s possessed.” We were standing in a small house at the edge of a village. 

I leaned in for a closer look. The man on the bed was looking very limp and happened to belch as I got close. His breath told me all I needed to know. He might be possessed by spirits, but they were distilled, not demons. Still, if I pretended to exorcise his ‘demons’ maybe she’d pay up. Or at least invite me to a decent meal, it had been a long time since I’d last had one.

“Vade exiit daemonium foeda relinquunt corpus,” I proclaimed over the recumbent body. 

Charlie moaned loudly, which gave me an idea. I had my bag, I always carried the bag with me. In it, I found a bottle of the most foul smelling concoction that I carried. I pulled out the cork and waved it under his nose. One whiff had Charlie out of bed and headed outside, looking very green.

“I believe that the demons are vanquished, ma’am. I assume that you’d like to pay promptly for services rendered?”

“Pay?” she squeaked at me. “Pay? I thought it was your duty?”

“Exorcism is my profession. If I don’t get paid, I don’t eat. And I really do love to eat,” I replied.

“Out, out,” she shrieked at me. “I never thought you’d ask for money.”

I should have known, I really should have. If there is one thing that happens time and again, it’s people believing that some services don’t require money. I trudged out of the house, I could tell that this one was a hopeless case.

“Hello, Gerald. You are looking rather out of sorts tonight.”

Oh god, my night just got infinitely worse. “Sister Anna, what a surprise to see you here.”

Sister Anna may be a wonderful nun, a kindly person, someone that birds simply flock to. From my point of  view, she’s just a pest.

“Now Gerald, I had to find you. We didn’t finish our last discussion.”

I sighed. Now that Sister Anna had found me, I was doomed to listen to more of our last discussion. “I don’t need to belong to your religion to succeed in my job. Demons don’t care if I’m Christian.”

“It takes the power of God to send a soul back to heaven or hell. If you don’t have the power of God, those souls must still roam the earth. You might be exorcising the same demon over and over again.”

I wish I could exorcise Sister Anna from my life. “I send the demons back to hell where they belong. End of story. Your faith is not required.”

Short Silly Fantasy Story

Once upon a time, there was a dragon. The dragon’s name was George. One day, George was roaming the forest when he met a knight.

“Vile serpent, you have met your doom,” declared the knight.

“You sir, are most uncivilised,” replied George. “Is it not common courtesy to name yourself before one of these conflicts? I am George the Mighty, Destroyer of the Weak, Slayer of the Noble.”

The knight blinked twice. “I am Sir George the Noble. Knight of the Realm and Defender of the Fair Sex. Is that sufficient for courtesy?”

The dragon bowed his head and the battle began. George fought George with great strength and ferocity. Such a battle has rarely been seen.

Eventually George won the battle and left his opponent, George, where he lie.

The Fallen (Part 3)

(disclaimer - reposting this - originally on tumblr.)

“Dark red. The whole underwing should be dark red.” I smiled at Raph. “I know, it’s usually done for contrast but I’m going for subtle dramatic.”

“Right, well, full body is going to cost you.” He pointed at the price list. I didn’t even glance in that direction, I’d been here enough times with Maria to memorise the entire list.

“Here’s the cash,” I handed him a small pile of gold and silver coins. Raph took the money and motioned me to the back of the shop.

“Right, full body. So, take off anything you don’t want dyed black. You can tie any of these,” he motioned to a large range of pieces of cloth, “around any bits of you that shouldn’t be dyed. When you’ve done that, I’ll put some protection over your eyes and we can start.” The pieces of cloth had obviously been used to keep dye off his customers in the past. Some were too stiff to be useful any more.

I removed my garments and tied one cloth around my hips. “Done.”

“You weren’t kidding about full body, were you? Now close your eyes.” I closed my eyes and he placed a couple of small sticky things on my eyelids.

He led me over the a small platform and then moved my arms and wings for best exposure. “Now just stay like that.” I could hear a small click then the platform started to slowly turn. I could feel the mist of the dye hitting me. Raph was spraying up and down very steadily as the platform moved.

It was only a few minutes later when he stopped spraying. “That’s a nice even coat, from top to toe. It’s pretty fast drying, so we should be ready to do the second colour soon.” I just stood still, waiting for instructions.

“Seems like forever since you or Maria came in. What’s been happening in your lives?” Raph asked.

“Well, Maria kind of pulled out of the party and dance circuit because she had a baby. A lovely little clouding.” I was trying to keep all of my feelings under control. “And she is more the party goer than I am. So we both stopped.”

“Well, maybe Maria should come by with the little one.” I could hear some rustling noises. “Should be ready for the secondary colour. Keep your wings well up and out. Let your arms drop to the sides.”

I did as instructed and felt the spray of dye against the undersides of my wings. This coat was finished even more quickly.

“Well, there you go, Luc.” Raph pointed at the mirror in the corner. “What do you think?”

I looked at myself in the mirror. The black coated all of me except for my eyelids and what the cloth protected. I spread my wings to see the red, such a deep colour it was barely distinguishable from the black. It should be impossible to see me flying after dark, even if the moon were full. “That’s perfect, Raph. Exactly what I was hoping for.”

“I don’t get much call for black, you’re lucky I had enough dye. And you probably remember, it will last 4 or 5 days or you can wash it off with the special formula. I’m sure Maria has some from all the dye jobs she’s had done."

“Thanks Raph, see you later.” I flew out the door.

There was still a couple of hours until dusk, and I was pretty sure that things wouldn’t happen until well past dusk. So I grabbed a bite to eat. Then I went back to my place, sat next to Celia’s crib and cried all the tears that I’d been holding back. Our Celia, our darling, was by now a groundling. What I was hoping to do tonight wouldn’t and couldn’t save her from that fate.

Finally, it was nearing dusk. I flew to my chosen spot and settled in for the night. From my vantage point, I could see both the exits quite clearly. I had no idea if my suspicions would prove to be right. Or if I’d have to come back a few times. Or if it was too late already, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t true.

Finally, sometime well after midnight, I saw a couple of staff members leave the building by the roof exit. One carried a small bundle, one that could easily be Celia. I waited until they were truly airborne before I launched myself into the sky. I wanted to stay within sight but far enough back that they wouldn’t hear my wing beats.

The flight lasted for about half an hour. Soon the pair were circling a small groundling village. I felt sure they were checking the village to ensure no one was about. So I looked for a place I could stay that wouldn’t be noticed by the groundlings or the pair I was following.

Soon they landed and placed their tiny bundle down on the ground near the centre of the village. I watched as they looked at the baby and then flew away.

I waited a few minutes, until I was sure they had gone. I kept an eye on that tiny bundle while I waited.

Once I was sure that the village was quiet and the others had gone, I flew down and picked up the baby. It was our little Celia. She was fast asleep, I suspect that they had given her something to keep her from waking during the flight. I gently felt her back. All traces of her wing nubs were gone.

“Celia, my sweet. I wish so much that your wings had grown in. But you can’t live in the city with us now. You will be a groundling for the rest of your life.” A few tears dripped from my face and splashed her. She stirred slightly from the tear drops. “I will watch to see who takes you in. And I’ll help them in any way I can.”

I had to fight every instinct, I wanted to carry her home and hide her away. But truly, the city is no place for the wingless, there are simple too many places where flying is the only way in or out. And I’d never seen anyone in the city who couldn’t fly. Of course, I held part of the answer to how that happens in my arms.


I had to put Celia back down. It was getting too close to dawn, surely someone in the village would be moving soon. I gave her the last hug I’d ever be able to and place her in the exact same spot. It nearly broke my heart to put her down.

I flew to a spot where I could watch over Celia without being seen. As the sun began its long slow climb into the sky, the village stirred into life.

At first, people only left their homes to care for their livestock. No one went near the tiny bundle that I cared so much about. By the time the sun was completely over the horizon, people were starting to walk around the village a bit more. Still, no one so much as glanced at Celia.

Then the baby finally woke and started screaming her lungs out. A few people went over to look at the baby but no one picked her up. It took all my will not to fly back and snatch Celia up again.

Finally, one female stepped forward and picked up the baby. She chatted briefly with a male and then they both returned to one of the small homes carrying Celia inside. I memorised the house so I could return later. For now, I had to fly home and talk to Maria.

The flight back to the city took very little time. I flew into our place and looked for Maria. It didn’t take long for me to reach the conclusion she wasn’t home yet.
So first I removed the dye using some of Maria’s left over removal goop. It took a little while to thoroughly remove the black. I listened but Maria still hadn’t returned.

Next I flew back to the healers. It scared the hell out of me when the healer at the greeting desk took one look at me, turned pale and scurried to the back. A few minutes later, the elder healer appeared.

“Lucifer?” she started.

“I’m just here to find out if Maria is awake yet. She’s not home.” I explained. I didn’t want them to think I was here to ask about Celia.

“She’s gone,” the healer said. I tried to work out in my head where else she must have gone if not our place. “She died last night,” the healer finally said when she noticed my confusion. “We think she woke up at some point, opened one of our potion cabinets, drank some random potions and then returned to bed. By the time we noticed that someone had been drinking some very dangerous potions, it was too late. She had died.”

“Dead? How can she be dead?” I could barely whisper the words, it was so hard to say. “You were supposed to be watching her.”

“We didn’t know she had woken. The night attendant wasn’t responsible. It was no one’s fault.” The healer sounded defensive about the affair.

I let loose an almighty scream and then just collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor. Celia was gone. Maria was dead. It was too much. Far too much.

“Do you want me to,” the healer started to say.

“Just get out! Leave me be,” I shouted blindly lashing out with my wings to push away anything within range. I heard footsteps retreating and a door quietly closing. I just let myself get lost in my grief, keeping my wings moving back and forth so nothing would get close.

My brain wasn’t coping with this. How could my life get shattered so thoroughly, so quickly? What was I going to do?

Finally, my mind snapped into focus. There was the life celebration ceremony to arrange. I’d have to start contacting Maria’s family and friends.

The next few days were just a blur. I remember flying to visit Maria’s mother Helen. I remember collapsing on the floor again as I told her first about Celia and then about Maria. She didn’t let me fly home that night. I think Helen said something about not thinking I should go there for a day or two.

She was the one that made the arrangements for Maria’s life celebration. Sometime during the morning after, she realised that I was still in a state of shock, probably because I didn’t answer any question with more than a one word reply. Yes, no, maybe was about all I could cope with.

It was a mere two days later that we had the celebration. Maria’s family and friends gathered to remember all the good that she had done in life. School, work and her love of dance. Part of the celebration was a dance, everyone joined in. I was by far the most reluctant in the room. Dancing was so much what I associated with Maria that it was just painful to even try.

After approximately forever, the celebration was finally over. After I was allowed to fly home since Helen was positive that I was able to care for myself again. That bare, empty place that I was sharing with my family such a short time ago.

It was nearing the new moon, the nights were barely lit. I decided to take the opportunity to visit Celia’s new home.

First I went around my place; putting a few of her toys, a few clothes, a little food and some coins into a small bag. I didn’t want to take a lot on the first time. Just a few things that should help Celia and her new family.

I flew out of the city before the sun was too low on the horizon. I wanted to arrive before the sunlight had faded completely. I would have to be more careful that I wasn’t spotted by a groundling. But the hope that I might see Celia, even from a distance, was too strong to ignore.

For the last bit of the journey, I was soaring barely above the canopy. I stopped when I had a reasonably clear view of the little building that Celia had been taken into. My journey was rewarded, the woman I had seen before was sitting outside with a baby on her lap. Little Celia looked to be doing well, though at this distance, it was hard to be sure.

As the sunlight faded, the villagers all went into various buildings. When all was quiet outside, I flew down and left my little bag by the door to Celia’s new home.

The Fallen Part 2

(disclaimer - reposting this - originally on tumblr.)

Things actually went well that night and for some time thereafter. We did end up being partners for dance competitions. As you’d expect, the first few times we were eliminated pretty quickly, but within a couple of months, we were regularly making it to the final cut and sometimes won second or third place. Never quite first though, it takes quite a lot of effort to get the first prize.

At some point, Maria moved in with me. We agreed that her having a separate place made no sense after we starting spending more nights together then apart.

“Lucifer? I have something to tell you.”

“Yes, Maria?”

“I’m pregnant. I’m going to have your baby.” She watched me closely for reactions.

“But, but, you’re a cloudling, I’m a sunling. You know we aren’t supposed to breed.” The people of the city come in three types; the skylings - a light blue hue, the cloudlings - a silvery grey and the most common type in the city, and finally the sunlings - golden in tone like the sun. While all can live and work together, breeding is restricted by old laws to within your own type.

Maria was determined to have that baby, even if the law was against it. She refused to say who the father was to anyone who asked.

Our friends and family did speculate about it, since we’d been living together for months. But since Maria wasn’t talking, they didn’t push. The only one who knew the entire truth was Maria’s dame. The two of them secluded themselves in a small apartment at the edge of the city during the final two months, our story was that Maria wasn’t well and had to stay in bed for most of the time.

While I waited, I threw myself into the club scene with Mic at my side. I waged my body in The Cage. I’d dance with anyone willing to fly with me. I tried desperately not to think about Maria and the baby to be. I was lucky that none of the idiot things I did during these months caused me any permanent damage.

Finally one day, a brief note arrived. “Maria named her daughter Celia. They are both well and should be with you soon.” The note contained a picture of a tiny baby cloudling - a miniature of her lovely mother.

It was just as well that Celia was a cloudling. If a baby is born that isn’t of the same type as their mother, that baby is taken away to be left somewhere outside the city. There are no punishments for the parents, removal of the child is considered to be quite enough.

Celia, our own little piece of heaven, was such a delight. She was as lovely a baby as anyone could wish for.

Not a change of life I ever expected but she won my heart over very quickly.

We fussed over her, played with her, kept her as happy as anyone could wish. And she’d reward us with the biggest sweetest smile. She was perfect in every way; fingers, toes, her little wing nubs.

---

By the time Celia turned one, we were starting to be concerned. At 18 months, we had a very serious concern. Finally when Celia turned two, it was time to take her to the healers. Maria tried every delaying tactic in the books but not one of them helped.

“Sweetheart, we must. You know that we have to take her.” I told Maria.

“Luc, we both know that her wings aren’t developing. They haven’t grown at all since her birth.” Maria’s voice was intense with her worry.

It was true. Our lovely daughter was growing well in every way except one. Her wings weren’t growing with the rest of her. “I know, Maria. She doesn’t even try to use her wings. I’ve never seen her move them when she needs extra balance.”

“I’ve asked my parents, my friends and Celia should definitely be trying to fly by now. She never does, she’s perfectly happy walking. Our baby is deformed.”

It was true. If Celia basically had no wings, then by all rights, she was deformed. It was a serious and life threatening deformity. “Maybe it’s something that the healers can fix. Or maybe she’s just a bit slow with the wing development but it will happen a little later.” I sighed. “But the healers will have to see her sometime. We can’t put it off forever.”

Maria ignored my warning. All too soon, we were summoned to appear before the healers with an armed escort to ensure we attended. At the age of two, all babies had to be assessed by the healers.

Two staff members took one look at Celia and gently took her from Maria. “What? Where are you taking my baby!”

“Don’t worry, it’s part of the routine. She needs to be weighed, measured. All normal,” a male healer tried to reassure Maria.

“I want to watch. Let me go back there.” Maria tried to push her way past the healer, he gently deflected her back.

I happened to catch one of the staff coming out and shaking their head. My heart fell in my chest. The healer we were talking to said, “There are some questions first. This is your first baby, right?”

“Yes.”

“And how is she progressing? How often does she crawl, try to walk, try to fly?” the healer asked quietly.

Maria sobbed and I closed my eyes. “She’s always moving. She crawls from one end of a room to the other in no time flat. She can walk too, but it’s not as often.”

“And flying? Is she trying yet?”

Maria and I looked at each other. This was the critical question. Maria started off by nodding her head. “Well…”

The healer interrupted her. “The truth is that she’s never so much as twitched them, isn’t it?” Maria buried her face in her hands.

“We haven’t seen her try her wings yet,” I replied.

“I thought as much. It’s a rare deformity that your daughter has. It’s a bit more common when different types have a child together. That’s why we discourage pairings like yours.” He stared at me. “You are the father, yes?”

I nodded reluctantly. At this point, there really didn’t seem to be much point in trying to hide it. “Yes, I am.”

He closed the folder containing the papers he had been consulting. “Well, that’s it. You may go home now.”

“MY BABY!” shrieked Maria. “I won’t go without Celia. Where’s my baby?”

“We’re taking care of her. She won’t ever fly so we are going to prepare her for a new life.”

“New life?” I growled.

“She’ll never be suited to life in the city. We’ll be removing the wing stubs than placing her with the groundlings. It’s where she belongs.”

“No! She belongs with me. She belongs with us. Let us take her home. We can care for her.”

“Now, now, calm down. Have some water,” the healer handed Maria a small glass. She drank it in a single gulp.

I didn’t actually quite see what happened next. One moment, Maria was ranting at the healer at very close range and the next, she was falling to the floor, already asleep.

“Will you go quietly or do I dose you up as well?” he said.

“What happened to Maria? What’s happening to Celia?”

“I’ve given Maria a sleeping potion, mixed with the water. She’ll sleep tonight, tomorrow you can come back and take her home.” He shook his head. “As for Celia, you’ll never see her again. By now, she should be as wingless as any of the groundlings. She’s young. She’ll forget this city soon enough and be just like them.” He looked me in the eyes, “So, are you going to leave quietly? Or join Maria in an overnight stay.”

I laid a hand on Maria’s right wing. It was probably the first time she would have serious rest in the last month, she’d been so worried about Celia. Maria’s wings were so perfect, why couldn’t Celia have been like her mother in that respect?

I had a plan and the plan required that I be awake tonight. Possibly more nights as well. “I’ll go. You take care of my girls.”

The first part of the plan required some scouting around. I flew around the building, noting the two exits. One at ground level, one on the rooftop. I looked carefully around for somewhere I could stay that wouldn’t be too obvious and yet within sight of both exits if possible. I found a spot on a nearby temple that was ideal. It even roof decorations which would meant one object more or less after dark was likely to be unnoticed.

That took some time. The second part of the plan was much more straight forward. I flew to a small shop that I’d visited a few times with Maria.

“Hey, long time,” the chief stylist greeted me. He looked behind me. “Where’s Maria? Don’t tell me you’re getting a job?”

“Yeah, she finally talked me into it. Look, can I get black? A full body job?”

“Full body job? We don’t have much call for those. But sure. What secondary colour were you after?”

I knew he was going to ask and so I’d been thinking about it. My golden feathers would be too easy to spot at night and I was hoping to be doing some stealth flying. Previous visits meant I knew the style was to use two colours. I wanted the second that wouldn’t ruin the effect.

The Fallen - Part 1

(Disclaimer - I've been posting this to tumblr so some of you may have seen this already.)

The Fallen

I was surrounded by four, well let’s just call them angels, as we descended from the airborne city to a mountain top. Two angels to hold me still while two carried out the sentence.

Six times over, there was a loud snap followed by my screams of agony. The three main bones in each of my wings were snapped in half. The two who broke the wing bones were careful to realign them so eventually the wings would heal. But they would never be strong enough to lift my weight again. 

The angels flew away, up and out of sight. I watched, tears in my eyes as they soared away. Grounded forever more from my own stupidity.

Perhaps, I should start at the beginning?

—

Ah, the beginning, I’ll skip over the first memories, early lessons and etc. You’ve probably read so many of those that you already have a hundred such stories already rolling around in your head.

I was actually a reasonably good youth. I did work at lessons, I didn’t play around when I wasn’t supposed to. I listened to the elders and all the official storytellers.

My passion was flight.  Oh how I loved to fly. Of course, when you’re still small, they limit where you can fly.  I would spend some of every day soaring from one edge to the other of what the elders would allow. It was always in the floating city, never beyond.

My friends, my family, they all flew when they had to get somewhere. Me? I never wanted to stop. I was happiest in the air, feeling the wind shift under my wings.

As I grew older, I was allowed to fly further. Then when I finally reached my 100^th birthday, I was allowed to fly away from the city and explore the lands below.

The first flight away from the city, it was so exhilarating. I plunged through a couple of cumulus clouds rejoicing in the cold damp air that made up the cloud.  And the warm bright sun when I reached the other side. Diving through a flock of pigeons just to watch them scatter. I know, that was juvenile, but it was fun and funny the first couple of times.

All too soon, I felt the need to return to the city. I decided to drop by my best friend’s house.

“What is your fascination with flying outside the city, Luc? Come on to the club, I can introduce you to some new hot chicks I met last week.”

My pal, Mic, was way more into clubs and girls then I was. “You know I hate the club. I like to talk to people, not shout at them.”

He laughed at me. “You’re not into talking to people even when you don’t have to shout at them. Come on, let’s go party.”

The club scene was pretty typical really. The music wasn’t as loud or as banal as I was expecting. They had a small live band instead of normal recorded music. The band wasn’t bad. Not great, mind you but not bad. 

There was a few people at the bar. Some of them casually trying out scents to see which they liked best and a few getting wasted on the cheapest scent available. I hadn’t really tried scents yet. Just another one of those ways I wasn’t like most of the people I know.

Like many of the more popular clubs, there was the Cage toward the back, for the thrill seekers. Outside the door to the Cage was an attendant who only opened the door after you signed a disclaimer. The lucky got out of the cage with a few new bruises. Broken bones were pretty common. Today’s game seemed to be for a pair to fly in circles around each other fast. The first to lose control lost the game. Given the size of the Cage, that also usually involved a big collision with a wall and I saw one wing broken within a few minutes of our arrival.

Most of the patrons were dancing, in pairs and alone. A few of the couples were utterly in sync; arms, legs and wings all in harmony. The average couple, more of a tangle of wings and arms then anything else.

I was leaning back against the wall, wondering how long I should wait until I could leave the club. Mic was pretty much in his element, I wasn’t worried he’d notice. He had a few girls who were watching him and his current partner with envy in their eyes.

“Hey, handsome. Holding up the wall?”

“Yeah, it was looking a bit unstable so I thought I’d prop it up.” 

“Can I take you away from that vital job? There’s a slow dance coming up and I *so* want to be up there.” I looked at the girl. She wasn’t the most attractive girl at the scene, but her eyes seemed to carry more of a spark of interest. She was wearing a black dress and had dyed her wings to match. The tips of the flight feathers were silver to add contrast.

“I don’t dance. This is what I’m good at,” nodding toward the wall.

“You don’t dance. You obviously don’t do the Cage, you haven’t the scars. You don’t do scents. Why the hell did you come?”

“Friend thought I needed to get out.”

“Well, in that case, I think you need to dance. Come on, it’s starting.” She grabbed my hand and started dragging me from the wall. After a minute of trying to stay put, I gave in and flew up to the dance.

By the time we had found a space, the music was playing. 

I can’t believe I let some chick I didn’t know talk me into this. She pulled me close and we started to dance.

Of course, slow dance is all about wing control. Some of the couples in the air had perfect control and rhythm with their partner. We tried for awhile to find a matching wing beat but her wings were just enough shorter than mine that it just wasn’t working.

I gently tapped her right wing with my hand. “Would you allow me?” She folded her wings and allowed me to take control of the dance.

Once I had control, I could maintain a slow easy spin like most of the couples in flight.

“So, My Lady, if you wanted to dance so much, why are you here alone?” 

“I didn’t come alone. I came with a date. The idiot decided he could rule The Cage tonight.” She nodded toward the pile of people nursing their wounds outside of The Cage. “He spun out in moments and cracked a wing. He won’t be flying for months.” She smiled at me. “I’m glad I talked you into this. You are very good.”

“So, does he look jealous?”

“Let me just make sure.” Her warm soft lips suddenly gently touched mine. “From his expression, I’d say yes.”

“Whoa, slow down there. I’d like to know who I’m kissing.” We were still slowing spinning in the air, arms tightly wrapped around each other. 

“I’m Maria. I’m 104, I have an office job, and I love to dance. Your turn.”

“Ok, I’m Lucifer though my friends all call me Luc. I’m 102, and I haven’t found a job that suits me. I do love to fly.”

The music slowed to a halt. I looked down to see a rather angry looking fellow glaring up at Maria. “Maria, do you like being the cause of club scenes?”

“Not particularly. I’m just here for the music.” She started extending her wings. I waited until she had enough lift before I released her.

“I don’t know about you but I’m ready to fly out of here. I think there will be a scene if we get close enough to your grounded friend.” I smiled at Maria. “You certainly did manage to make him very jealous.”

“He’s an idiot if he thinks I’ll sit around all evening because he has to prove something by going in The Cage. I could use some food.” 

We flew up and out of the club. Maria’s grounded friend had no hope of following.

“Come on, Luc. I know a little place not far from here. The food isn’t the greatest but it’s cheap and it’s filling.”

I shrugged. “Lead on, Maria. But I hope your friend doesn’t think to look for us there.”

She giggled. “My apartment isn’t far from here either. If the idiot doesn’t go to a medic to get his wing fixed, that’s the more likely place for him to be looking.” We were spiralling down to street level, just in front of a small cafe. “And, I’ve never been here with him.”

We entered the cafe. It was fairly quiet, it was between the times that people stopped to grab a bite before going home and when the club crowd would all want to eat.  We found a booth in a quiet corner and sat down. A bored looking waitress brought us menus. She perked up when she realised it was Maria.

“Hey, doll, good to see you back. And you brought another one? I like your style.” She winked at me as she handed me the menu. “That one is a wild one. Watch out.”

“I thought you said you’d never been here with the idiot?” I asked.

“I haven’t been with that guy but I have been here with a few others. As you might have guessed.” She closed her menu. “What will you have? It will be my treat tonight.”

We ordered. I ordered a basic sandwich. Takes talent to really get a sandwich wrong. She ordered the house special salad.

“So, Maria, is this night going somewhere? I don’t have expectations, one way or the other but I’d like to have this clear before too much longer.” It was a funny thing about having been slow dancing together. I felt like we’d already been an intimate couple. I wasn’t about to assume that Maria felt the same though.

She smiled across the booth at me. “Well, I was hoping that I might be able to spend the night at your place. Just in case Johnny boy does turn up at my place sometime tonight. He is going to be seriously peeved tonight. But I did have another motive,” she paused for a deep breath.

Naturally, our order arrived before she could continue that thought. Once the food was on the table, I realised that I was a lot hungrier than I expected to be. Fortunately for me, Maria was more interested in her plate for the moment. So for some time, the only sounds were our utensils hitting plates.

“Maria, you were about to tell me your motive for bringing me here?” I finally asked.

“Yes, right. I do have a motive. I told you I really love to dance.” I nodded. I wasn’t about to forget something in that short a space of time. “Well, there’s a dance competition coming up in a couple of months. But to enter you need a partner. And I’ve had no luck finding someone to enter with me. Most amateurs have long term partners, and I don’t.”

“So, you think you can convince me to be your partner?” I shook my head.

“Look, it may not be what you normally do for fun. But you have talent, especially so for one who says he doesn’t dance.” 

“I’m not sure I see what’s in it for me. I mean, for a start, how much time would it take?”

Maria reached for my hand. “Well, if we wanted to do it properly, we definitely want to spend 6 hours or more a week practicing. Preferably more.” She gently stroked the back of my hand. “The competition I have in mind requires 3 routines and one freestyle. I know someone who can help create the routines but without a partner why ask?” She interlaced her fingers with mine and gave them a small squeeze.

“This brings me back to the other question. What’s in it for me?”

“Well, I could try saying fame and fortune but that’s not going to fly for long. The only prize worthwhile in this class would be first and it usually takes years to get to that level.” She sat there chewing her lower lip. “Can’t ask as a friend since we’ve just met. It’s good exercise but I can tell you don’t need more exercise in particular.”

A few moments later and she let go of my hand. “Well, really, I can’t see that there’s anything in it for you. Except spending time with me and we don’t even know if we’d like each other.” She gave a deep sigh.

I looked at her closely. I liked her honesty and well, it had been some time since I last had a date. “Didn’t you say you wanted to go back to my apartment?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I really don’t have the energy to deal with Johnny if he does turn up at my place tonight.”

“Let’s finish up here. Then see if you can stand to stay at my place, it’s been a while since I last had visitors. We can work out if we do like each other.”