Inktober: the finale

Happy Halloween, writers and readers! We made it to the spooky end of Inktober: Writer’s Edition, in which I wrote a 50-word story based on a set of prompts everyday this past month. You can read the beginning with prompts here, and my weekly compilations here, here, and here.

Without further ado, here is my final set of entries.

Day 24: dizzy

photo of red roses
Photo by Irina Iriser on Pexels.com

Jake’s kisses made Louis dizzy. Louis knew it was because Jake’s species was toxic to humans but damn if it didn’t feel good. They should stop before the toxins grew too strong for them but Louis had always been a sucker for forbidden love and Jake, well, Jake was hungry.

Day 25: tasty

abstract break broken broken glass
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Few things were as satisfying as the tasty crunch of broken glass when she chewed it between her stainless steel teeth. This glass must have been made from the sands of Mars, the unique bouquet of Martian radiation burning bubbles into the soft brass of her throat as she swallowed.

Day 26: dark

black textile
Photo by Daniel absi on Pexels.com

“I’m not mad, I tell you, I’m a visionary! If you can make power from solar energy, you should be able to make dark power, see? Sun to the black hole, one emits energy, the other absorbs it. All I need to do is harness the power of that absorption.”

Day 27: coat

woman wearing yellow raincoat
Photo by Marcelo Dias on Pexels.com

This coat was my mother’s but my body has changed so much since the war. I hear it tear as I slide the coat over my shoulders, my carapace piercing through the fabric. The zipper will not close against my chitin breastplate no matter how I fumble with my pincers.

Day 28: ride

boy riding bicycle
Photo by malcolm garret on Pexels.com

“Let’s ride.” Seven-year-old Famine climbed onto his muddy BMX. Pestilence placed her favourite doll into a pink basket which hung from her Schwinn. War rode a red Raleigh with training wheels and had spikes on his helmet while his little sister, Death, followed on her battered tricycle, handlebar streamers flapping.

Day 29: injured

man in tunnel
Photo by Jan Kroon on Pexels.com

The ship shuddered when he applied pressure the seam of rivets running up the leeward bulkhead, her whimper echoing through the docking bay. She’d been injured. He pulled out a map of her species’ skeleton, tracing the fracture lines with his fingers and calling for his team of medical engineers.

Day 30: catch

starry sky
Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Pexels.com

“Come in,” said the re-animation specialist. “Before you catch your death out here.”

She rolled her eyes, swooping her net back and forth through the darkness of the Nether Beyond. “That’s the point,” she muttered, too quiet for anyone to hear, gritting her teeth and leaning further into the void.

Day 31: ripe

grayscale photo of moon
Photo by ViCky SiNgh on Pexels.com

After asteroids, moons became ripe. We traveled the galaxy, collecting them. The wild ones were sweeter somehow. We’d carry them in nets trailing behind the ship, brushing near stars to soften their tough outer skin and through wormholes to liquefy the core ‘til the moons would burst between our teeth.

And that’s a wrap! Now if you’ll excuse, I have to get ready for NaNoWriMo. Happy writing!

an Inktober collection

Earlier this month I committed to Inktober: Writer’s Edition, which has me writing a 50-word story every day, following a list of prompts you can read here. You can read my previous week of stories by clicking here.

Here are my stories from this past week, interspersed with palette-cleansing photos for your viewing pleasure.

Day 10: pattern

air air pollution climate change dawn
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Her gaze traced the pattern of smoke stacks on the horizon, each one belching poison into the atmosphere. A factory planet, built for production, left to robots to run when the air became toxic. She tied a scarf over her mouth and nose and cursed her luck for crashing here.

Day 11: snow

photograph of happy children
Photo by samer daboul on Pexels.com

Glowing green particulates fell like snow onto the streets overnight. Children scooped it up, packed it tight, and threw green snowballs of it at each other, giggling, innocent. The teachers bit back their warnings. They’d all be dead soon, after all, best let the children have one last good day.

Day 12: dragon

city near mountain during golden hour
Photo by Roberto Nickson on Pexels.com

Coils of smoke rose from the broken city like dragon’s breath, the sunset bright with flames of colour. She fixated on the hue of burgundy ribboning across the clouds, memorizing the colour of freedom. A far explosion brought a smile to her lips as she began to count the dead.

Day 13: ash

photograph of a burning fire
Photo by moein moradi on Pexels.com

She stared into the ashes long after the fire’s fuel ran out and cold crept inside her bones. A small collapse of ash startled her to stabbing at the cinders with the knife she’d used to kill him. His teeth grinned from the ashes, promising he’d never let her go.

Day 14: overgrown

person holding container with seaweed
Photo by Chokniti Khongchum on Pexels.com

Shattered petri dishes lay across the laboratory floor, their samples long overgrown the agar and spreading in fungal clumps. He sobbed with relief and flicked at the green until a cloud of particulates released. Snorting up the spores, his eyes rolled back as a deep sense of peace overcame him.

Day 15: legend

woman playing electric guitar on top of rock formation
Photo by Stephanie Souza on Pexels.com

He hit the chords power-hard, eyes shut, hips thrust forward, the song he played a legend. The final riff echoed off the Starcruiser above him and he rose his hand, horns up, to listen as they faded. He nodded, satisfied, and put away his axe. Another planet introduced to Zeppelin.

Day 16: wild

adult alone autumn brick
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Watch how he waits, deep in the wild recesses of his own mind, until the first flash of feral anger eases and the bright sludge of adrenaline fades. For a place safe to think, to consider, to plan, and bring the darkest ruin to his enemies. Run while you can.

Are you participating in Inktober or Writober as a writer or an artist? Feel free to drop your @’s below so I can follow along.

 

my Inktober adventures

I’ve signed myself up for the Inktober 2019 Writer’s Edition, which is rather new and diverges from solely drawing to writing a 50-word story based on the official Inktober’s prompts. The following are my entries for the past week, from day 2-9. You can see my day 1 entry and read the full list of the month’s prompt by clicking here.

Because these stories are meant to exist as unrelated snippets, I’m including a photo that suits the story’s mood before the story itself, as something of a palette cleanser. They run a wild gauntlet of un-relatedness, but here they are. I’d love to hear your thoughts on them and please drop your @’s in the comments if you are Inktobering yourself so I can follow your adventures.

Day 2: mindless

heart shaped red neon signage
Photo by Designecologist on Pexels.com

The fairy stroked the zombie’s face. “They’re mindless not heartless. That’s what everyone gets wrong.”

“What is it with you and the undead?” asked her father. “First that vampire, now him.”

“You did necromance me from the grave when she was five,” said Mother. “Children pick up on these things.”

 

Day 3: bait

2019-01-11 09.25.42.jpg

“Just a little dunk for the greater good,” said the fisherman. “Everyone knows they can’t resist the bait of a prince.”

Into the water splashed the Prince, cursing his birthright and this superstition. Mermaids weren’t emptying their nets, it was –

His thoughts scattered as a little mermaid grabbed his hand.

 

Day 4: breeze

love couple sunset sunrise
Photo by freestocks.org on Pexels.com

The wind picked up and he awkwardly put his arm around her so she wouldn’t freeze. He should say something. Something clever. “So… do you ever wonder if maybe meteor showers only exist because a black hole sneezed?”

She smiled, her eyes shining. “I think about that all the time.”

 

Day 5: build

20170402_150627
it me

Build a world from a thought, give it life, give it death. Keep it secret. Build it bigger, amplify its strangeness. Stranger still. Fold it inside out, right again, and somewhere in the creases watch its people unfold, half-formed, un-complete. Keep them secret. Amplify their strangeness, finish them with want.

 

Day 6: husky

photo of person standing on crashed plane
Photo by Frederik Sørensen on Pexels.com

Burly Jane and Husky Hester stroked their beards and contemplated the wreckage of Hester’s starcruiser, planets away from nowhere.

“Helluva first date,” said Jane. “Usually I just say I’m out of fuel and make my move, but you’ve straight up crashed. I admire your commitment to getting in my pants.”

 

Day 7: enchanted

sky lights space dark
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The planetoid mass was enchanted by the star, circling ‘round for a closer, better look. Non-committal, careful, until a solar flare burst forth and danced an aurora ‘round the mass’ atmosphere. Bewitched, the mass fell into orbit, clutched by the star’s gravitational embrace, and spun themselves into a solar system.

 

Day 8: frail

white bedspread beside glass sliding door
Photo by Lina Kivaka on Pexels.com

He peered down at his suddenly frail physique, his sculpted pecs sagging, nipples turned downwards, his hard-won abs a blob of gut hanging over his hips. His manhood – he couldn’t look. “Why?” he asked her.

The succubus struggled into her underwear and shrugged. “Maybe I like you better this way.”

 

Day 9: swing

metal chain in grayscale and closeup photo
Photo by Luděk Maděryč on Pexels.com

A porch swing rusted on the rain-battered decking. In next week’s storm its chain would break, sending the swing through the rotten boards and catching the attention of the building inspector who would condemn the house. For now it caught the sun and its old chain wheezed in the breeze.


Thank you for reading!

IWSG and Inktober for writers

Hello and welcome to the monthly meeting of the Insecure Writer’s Support Group, where writers are insecure the confident ones… eavesdrop. If you’d like to visit the other members participating in the meeting (and please do!), click here to see the full list of lovely, lovely, writerlings.

iwsg

A few of my writer friends have signed up for Inktober: Writer Edition and I have decided to join then and see how frazzled and creative I can get. I once wrote a microfiction per day for a year, resulting in some terrible stories, a handful of excellent ones, and a wild level of creativity, so I’m excited to see what comes from this.

If this is the first you’ve heard of Inktober: Writers Edition, here is what’s been circling and everything I know:

2019-10-02 06.50.15.png

2019-10-02 06.52.19.png

I plan to compile my entries into a weekly post for this website, and post them daily on social media. Here’s my entry for Day 1: Ring

2019-10-02 06.53.36.png

Are you participating in Inktober, as either writer or artist? If so, feel welcome to drop your @’s in the comments so I can follow along with your Inktober adventures. Happy IWSG day everyone!