These are my
Updated July 13, 2019 to add links to original posts.
Date: January 17, 2019
He stared at the strawberry jam sitting on his counter. Healthy, fruity, gloopy. It didn’t sooth his cravings.
Past it waited a dark container in the back. Its white lid stuck as it twisted off, and he spread the Nutella over his bread.
Peanut butter’s perfect match.
Date: January 19, 2019
The sun baked his face as he ran barefoot, his toes slipping in the sand. He yelped as he crossed over pokey shells. Cold moisture sprayed him, surprising him just before he smashed into his first, icy wave. He jumped backward, shivered, and then leaped back in.
Date: January 21, 2018
His fingers snaked through her hair, catching on thick curls and yanking. She yelped, unable to pull free. Scissors in hand, she cut her locks near her scalp. His hand fell, her hair still clasped between his fingers.
She was finally free.
Date: January 23, 2019
Red and white, she wailed as her lungs started to work and breath. A nurse held her captive, wiping her down and checking vitals.
“It’s okay, baby,” he said through the cries, offering his finger. “Daddy will always be here for his baby girl.”
At his promise, she cooed.
Date: January 24, 2019
She carries a black parasol on sunny days. She claims a skin condition, but no one sees her tears in the shade. You only see her face in the rain, where tears mix with raindrops each time a toddler runs by.
Date: January 25, 2019
The nightdress is threadbare and stained with multicolored splotches. But she’s two, and the dress is pink and kitties and unicorns and joy. She feels pretty spinning in it, the bottom swishing around her bare legs, so she wears it every day no matter the season.
Date: January 26, 2019
Dust covered the green velvet. The wooden sides bore beer stains and faded laughter. His dad hadn’t played pool in 10 years, unable to descend the stairs into the dirty basement.
Now he’d never be able to, so his son played one last game by himself.
After this point, most of my prompts were
Date: January 29, 2019
Confined to the night, he regretted never experiencing London to its fullest. He did, however, enjoy the food. The aroma and taste of blood
Date: January 30, 2019
She pantomimed biting. It looked silly, cute even. She did it again, this time with her fangs fully extended.
He knew she was flirting, but his stomach dropped. They looked like his fangs.
Could he return to being human and still have Julia in his life?
Date: January 31, 2019
They claim it’s blissful, heaven even. But watching the vampire go savage as it drained the blood from his neck, it seemed the opposite of euphoria. She vowed to never trust the blood junkies–she wanted to preserve at least some sliver of humanity.
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