Story a day: 5.31.16

It rose from the ashes of color, the ghosts of saturation. The doe clambered off the page, leaving behind a black and white outline. It stepped into three dimensions, dripping color. Puddles of purple and green and orange swirled in its footsteps. Color slid over the doe like melting rainbows.

I watched in amazement. It felt my gaze, set two piercing blue eyes on me. They did not change and shift as the rest of it did, but rather held steadily, perfectly blue. I dared not stare, but could not look away.

Story a day: 5.30.16

“You are the Chosen One.”

He didn’t look up from his phone. “That so?”

“Yes. Come with me and fulfill your destiny.”

He looked up at the tall, bearded man standing over him at the bus stop. The man wore a pointed hat and used a stick for a cane. “Listen, man, I don’t have any change.”

The old man scowled. “I don’t care about your human money. I care about your destiny!”

“Right.” He went back to his games.

The old man grabbed him by the arm and forced him to his feet. “Listen, you little punk–”

He broke free. “No. Get over it. I’ve gotten the letters and visions and messengers from you people. I’m not interested. Where were you 15 years ago when I was living under my uncle’s staircase, huh? Now you step in and want me to do some shit for you? Not. Interested.”

Story a day: 5.28.16

Prompt: Cat got your tongue.


The cats held our tongues hostage. We believed it was a joke until they didn’t give them back. Eventually, we realized we had to fight back. Subduing the cat overlords would not be easy, though…

Story a day: 5.27.16

He breaks the lock. Too easy.

Rows of robots fill the hangar, but that’s not what he’s here for. He’s here for her.

He hurries past the robots, knocks out the guards, disables the security. And there she is.

“You,” she says, cheeks pink.

He sneers. “Now you die, sister.”

Story a day: 5.26.16

I’m doing a lot of research about myths for a project so I’m going to let that inspire today’s entry.


The people had one god whom they named Purple. The god asked little of them, but did require a daily sacrifice of one unblemished goat.

One day, after the people sacrificed their goat, a figure walked out of the clouds. They knew from its holy bearing that it was their god, Purple.

“What have you done?” Purple asked.

“We have done as you asked,” the people said, but they trembled with fear.

Purple raged and dark clouds swirled overhead. Hail rained down to pelt the people and the ground swelled under them. “You defile your god with unclean offerings.” Lightning crashed. Thunder boomed.

The people believed they would all die for their sin of sacrificing an unclean animal, but just when the tempest reached its crescendo and the ground split apart beneath them, the god rend itself in two in the fury of its ire. The storm passed and the people who still lived looked up to see not one god but two.

“We are your gods,” the holy figures said in one voice. “Blue and Red. Honor us with sacrifices of pure silk and jewels.”

Story a day: 5.25.16

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Hush,” Mother said.

She handed me a bundle before tying sacks around her waist and onto her back. Father came in with more bundles strapped to him and waved for us to follow.

Mother took my hand and we rushed out of our house. I looked back at our little home as we walked away from it. The sky was turning pink behind it.

“Where are we going?” I asked again.

Mother didn’t answer. Father was already far ahead. The rest of the village lay quiet. More than quiet. Hollow.

“Mama.”

“Hush,” she said. “We’re leaving. Don’t look back.” She tugged my hand harder.