Flash Fiction Friday #2

It’s all Amelia’s fault. 

That’s really what this story is about, how it is all her fault and I will never ever, ever take her advice when she says to make an offering to Ares. Because you spend all day- days trying to perfect an altar that won’t make a God angry and obliterate you, and he doesn't even show up. No- he sends one of his assistants to take care of the mess that HIS daughter made.

“Hey, pull over here..” J says ( that’s what we’re calling him )

“No “ I say clenching the steering wheel, “I already said no stops, and definitely no stops on the side of the road at two a.m.”

 Lost Gods were the worst hitchhikers because to be a hitchhiker would require asking permission before taking over someone’s body. 

“But I have to pee” I hear him whine. For a centuries old being he sure complains like a two year old.

 “No, you don’t because I don't have to, plus your kind doesn't actually have to use the bathroom! How dumb do you think I am?” immediately after I say it this I regret it because..

“Dumb enough to be tricked into performing a sacrifice ritual for your so called “friend” -honestly how do you humans classify anyone like this just do what I do and find people you like then when they are of no use just eat their souls and go on your merry way, but not Mary’s way because she’d be …"

“ENOUGH!!” I shout-fully aware that I sound and look ridiculous “If I pull over you will want to hunt a person, a rabbit, a deer,  or whatever you eat and I am not eating Thumper or Bambi.”

“Of course you aren’t, I am”  I hear a familiar click-clicking in my head.

  

No, sit yourself down..or float whatever you 
do! You are not taking over my body now especially while I’m driving! And you are not eating anything or anyone’s soul!”

FINE you horrible thing! First you kidnap me me! The God of.. well nothing yet, but still I'm better than some human girl who doesn't even know how to properly cast a circle or a protection spell and winds up getting both of us (me more so than you of course!) stuck in this gaudy situation.

“Its not my fault your niece pretended to be my friend and tricked me to get out of whatever punishment she had coming “ I slam my foot on the gas pedal and feel the jerk. Mama Betty was made for speed, but that was decades ago when my mom still drove, when she wasn't afraid to leave the house. How was I suppose to know my best friend was not my friend and was just a coward?

“Hey you just ran some red lights.”

 I don't answer and keep speeding not caring who stops. I need this nightmare to pause and I need to get back to when friends were friends and my sister wasn’t gone--

“JUST SHUT UP” and the clicking increases and my hands move on their own “I SAID NO you don't get to hijack my body !”  and I turn the wheel the opposite way.

The car screeches and flips in to the field. When I wake up its like I'm looking through binoculars. My hands are wrapped and I am carrying something heavy.

When my vision clears I see I am holding a dead deer.

And the click stops.

“I told you not to!”

“Hey!” J cackles. “I didn’t kill it… Mama Betsy did.. So I guess you did” and he continues laughing.

“I roll my eyes.

“Hungry? You gotta eat before we go back on the road”

I look and see Mama Betsy shiny and semi new (her dent from Veda scratching her was still there)

Before I can ask  he says “ sometimes having acquaintances with my kind has its perks.. But there is a price”

"Ugh FINE eat the deer!! But when I wake up you better have it buried and have washed all the blood off."

He laughs and I go through the binoculars and back into the rooms in my mind (literal not even figurative) and I re-watch the memory files my brain has stored of my mom and sister. I will figure out what happened to Veda even if that means having my body temporarily hijacked by a lesser god, and we have challenges to follow before the miracles can be done.

Everything has a price.. Veda would say, but she didn’t get to that point of our magic lessons, so I’m going to improvise and ask forgiveness after I resurrect her.

Prompt: “Lost Gods were the worst hitchhikers..”

Make sure you check out Kate's response (http://katesnovelidea.blogspot.com) and feel free to join in and write your own responses!! Happy Flash Fiction Friday!! 

Picture is from wikisearch "deer"  "altar"

Note to Self: Let's Be Impractical

*Picture by Belvedere Design

Sometimes, it's nice to live within a "Once Upon A Time". Yes, it's a cliche way to begin a story, but I find it comforting because a majority of my favorite stories begin that way and end with a "Happily Ever After".

Searching for moments of hope and faith resorted isnt a foreign concept, in every story there are numerous characters on a path toward something(s) they want. Some are trying to break down social and financial barriers, and some are simply reaching for a glimmer of evidence that there is more out in the world.  It only dawned on me how important dreams are after the roughest year of my life, preluded by years who were not so kind to me. I would try and blink out ideas of "Things that Make Me Happy" or "Things I Want to Do." After each idea would show itself I'd slap it away because it was deemed too silly or impractical. Life is dull without such hope for the seemingly silly or a chance at being impractical. So, not for this year or some resolution, but as a further note to self remember to find the impracital and albeit impossibilities and bring them into your circle.

Do I want to participate in NaNoWriMo or attend a writer's conference?
Do I want to travel out of the country?
Do I want to dye my hair lavender and wear flower crown? 

No matter the dreams, hold them tight and no matter who scoffs or doesn't understand keep it close and continue to move toward the silly and impossible things. 
I want to live a life full of color and full of fabulous and ridiculous (even embarrassing) stories.

Flash Fiction Friday #1

You'd think murder would have flexible availability, but no apparently it is set to the earliest of morning. It's too early in the day for killing princes. The first three times Morgra and I set our plan to action, at a reasonable hour after lunch but not before coffee, the potion had congealed and no longer would could be used. Instead of wasting time sleeping and enjoying what was left of an already lost couple months bogged down by fires,hangings, and witch trials; Morgra had decided our new plan. We were going back to the classic route- good reliable hemlock.

 


"Ethel, stop dilly-dallying!"  As if treading through leaves in the dark while still waking up were not a task in itself.
  
"Do you have the .."

"Yes, and hush or you'll blow our cover" She says as we are now sat in a pile of dead leaves, dirt, and snail carcasses. Prince Charmaine was suppose to be on his morning walk of the grounds, chaperoned by guards. At the moment of their leaving Morgra and I would sneak into the castle in our maids' clothes ( borrowed by said maids) and slip the droplets into his breakfast wine. Our plan B was to put a couple droplets of peanut oil on the beloved hound- Caesar and let Prince Charmaine's allergies do the rest, but we couldn't risk hurting the hound- we are murders in the making, yes, but we aren't in complete lack of heart. 

Writing prompt : "it's too early in the day for killing princes" Thank you to Kate from Kate'sNovelIDea ( http://katesnovelidea.blogspot.com/) for giving me the inspiration !!

Agatha-Jane Discovers She Has A Conscience (sort of)

Agatha-Jane knew better than to argue with Hester or her mother.  If she had any hopes of attending the apple harvest she'd have to apologize to Mrs. Flemming...but first she'd have to admit to the crime.

Through the night, and into the following morning Agatha-Jane argued with herself between telling such truths and surrendering to the switch, or pretending she was just as gobsmacked and in horror over Mrs. Flemming's missing wig and how it found it's way on the dinner goose.

Her Sunday school teacher Mrs. Amelia-who Agatha- Jane adored and hoped to mirror in spirit and action- would encourage the truth. The truth would have to come forth even if it did mean a switch, reproach, or worse being forced to fast from cookies, cakes, and all other delicious sweets.

Agatha-Jane got out of bed, washed her face and tried to tame her matted curls. After inspecting herself she took a deep breath and puffed out her chest.

"the switch it is I suppose" she stepped into her house slippers "time to tell mom, Hester, and dad"

----------------

Had she given a moment for her conscience to settle she never would have marched to her mother's study and given her full confession. But, she didn't and so she did indeed receive the switch and had to walk, with Hester chaperoning to see the task was done properly, all the way to Mrs. Flemming's house. Agatha-Jane sat for what seemed hours long on the receiving end of another lecture and cabbage soup lunch, such was much worse than ten or twenty switches.

Agatha-Jane and the Kitchen Incident

I hadn't meant to set the kitchen on fire, but when I tried telling Hester she kept looking up at the ceiling mumbling a prayer... or maybe a curse from the look of her wrinkled eyes. First, the fire never would have started had there not been oil splotches on the stove. Second, had Hester not started frying up some eggs this would never have happened, okay maybe I shouldn't have looked away from the stove to play with Ammelthorpe (my brother's new turtle), but Hester should know better than to leave me with...

"Agatha-Jane are you even listening to me?!" Hesters' nostrils flaired and her shaking made what was left of the egg fry up fall from her hair and into her coffee mug.

" now first Mrs. Flemming's wig went 'mysteriously' missing, and now  fires are being set! Do you want to go to boarding school" Hester took a sip of coffee, from the less egg-stained portion

"I was paying attention, but then Ammelthorpe looked soo bored, and I was bored watching the eggs, and then I thought of all the things I would love to do so as not to be bored and then"

"and then you left the hot stove and played with a turtle while the house caught on fire-"

"it was just the kitchen, and mom was already planning on remodling it." Before I could continue Hester threw her head back and laughed-well cackled I'd say. I knew I was done for because Hester, sweet but stern Hester never laughs and usually ends our arguments by having me pick my own switch and settling the wrongs.

"this child 'remodled' the kitchen, just set it on fire".. "Lord, Father there isn't a switch strong enough for this one."

------

When mom got home all I could hear from my hiding spot in the attic were mumbles, a "Lord" here and  a "Agatha-Jane" there. By the time my knees were sore, and my hands numb I heard heels on wood floor.

"Agatha-Jane Elizabeth Parker Kinsley you have five seconds to show yourself and if you don't not even the Lord can save you from this punishment"

My mom had a strong jaw, as my grandmother used to say though I'm sure she meant it in a beauty sort of way and not in a  jaw so strong it made her usual delicate features resemble a bird of prey ready to strike.

"we have given you chance after chance Aggie, and to be honest I'm not sure what to do with you-- and put your hand down! not a word from you either!" mom turned to my brother, now sulking with Ammelthorpe on his lap

"your father and I have done all we can to raise you into kind, and conscientious members of society." Mom paces " where does it end Aggie? After you've stolen every one of Mrs. Flemming's wigs? Set every kitchen on fire, or maybe you will start burning houses down, on top of skipping Sunday school and beating up boys..." Mom leans against the nearest wall and runs her fingers through her mass of curls. After some moments of silence mom raises her head, curls larger and shrouding her face.

"it will have to be boarding school if you can't shape up Aggie"

"mom......" Seamus squeaks " I think Ammelthorpe has burned eggs stuck in his shell"

The ( Awkard) First Page

Neil Gaiman advised fellow writers, and those who are about to 

brave the journey of storytelling to "trust your story." Simple, and 

to the point. It's from this advice this writing blog has come about. 

It is an accumulation of stories and ideas meshed together.

 I hope anyone who comes across finds my words semi-helpful and maybe (possibly) encouraging. 

So with that, I'm off to write some stories!