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The almost wedding of Julia Parker

I sat in the taxi fidgeting the tulle under my gown and thinking I’d rather be at home in my flannel pajamas instead of going to this wedding any day. My wedding as it turned out. You would think in 21st century America arranged weddings would be extinct. Unfortunately for me I was 1/28th part Indian and my parents were 1/10th Indian. Spiritually and mentally however they were 100% Indian through and through so it should have come to no surprise when they told me they were marrying me to an Indian prince who live in Oklahoma but was wealthy from the land and people he owned back in India. I kicked and screamed and didn’t eat for a week but I couldn’t convince them to let me out of it. Another downside of being part Indian was that I was spoiled rotten by my parents who were rich from an inheritance. Some long lost Aunt had died back in India and even though my mother couldn’t remember her she was apparently the favorite niece. This meant I had no job, no income, and no place of my own. If I disobeyed my parents and didn’t go through with the marriage I would be homeless in the middle of nowhere, Oklahoma. My name is Julia Parker. I am 19 years old and I am being married to a 29 year old man who I have never met who has 3 wives back in India. I repeated this to myself in the taxi numerous times because part of me still couldn’t believe it was happening. And then there was Alex.

Alex was my best friend back in Rhode Island. We talked and hung out all the time and only because I would sneak out at night. My parents would have a stroke at the thought of me being unsupervised with a male. Especially a 22 year old white male with full tattoo sleeves on each arm. Alex dressed almost entirely in leather or denim and rode a Harley. He was rough and tough on the exterior but inside was sweet as cotton candy. The feeling where it’s almost too sweet but you can’t help to take another bite. The truth was that recently I had started looking at Alex as more than a friend. The subtle hand brushes against our sides or the just too long hugs made me think that maybe he felt the same. I sighed as a loud honk brought me back to the present. We had arrived at the church for my very traditional Indian wedding complete with belly dances. I exited the taxi and walked towards the church. Looking around I saw bright colors, heard the drums being played and even heard the horse that the groom would arrive on. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a flash of black. Shiny black leather. I whipped my head around but no one was there except the belly dancers. Heading into the church I caught a glimpse of the canopy we would stand under for the ceremony. It was tall and actually quite pretty. The whole thing would be pretty if I wasn’t so against it all.

I was walking towards the powder room when I was grabbed from behind and dragged into a small dressing room. I would have screamed had a hand not covered my mouth. Looking down I saw the finishes of an ornate tattoo sleeve. I spun around and came face to face with Alex. He didn’t say anything, just leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. We looked into each other’s eyes and I realized he didn’t need to say anything. He gave me his famous half smirk and grabbed my hand as we tip toed through the kitchen and out the back door.

I suddenly didn’t worry about anything. I wasn’t worried about where we would go or how we would afford it or even what my parents would think. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing as we rode to the train station on the groom’s stolen horse.

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So the part in bold was my writing prompt for this story. It could definitely have been improved with more length and detail. Maybe even what happens to Julia and Alex or more about how they met but I’m feeling quite exhausted today and I do actually like the picture of them taking off on the groom’s horse which is what the groom usually rides in on in a traditional Indian wedding. I did a little bit of internet research for this one and I hope everything was correct as far as Indian weddings go. I hope you all enjoyed the story and, as always, have a good night!

Lost

Many years ago I knew a young lady. Her name was Hazel Moss. Her and I would joke countless hours about how her name pretty much described moss. She would argue that it was creative. I would argue that her parents were drugged up hippies when she was born. She never argued with the latter.

Hazel loved to take walks. She’d walk in the woods. Walk around the lake. She’d walk anywhere as long as she could take the camera I gave her for her birthday with her. She loved taking pictures as much as she loved walks. She would give me her camera and ask me to develop her favorites.

Hazel didn’t have a job.  She said that working with people brought her down and exhausted her soul. She preferred to be in nature. Whenever we met we would meet in the abandoned shack in the woods that she called home. She frequented the free boxes at yard sales. All of her furniture, decorations, and necessities came from yard sales with the exception of her pictures. She hung her pictures everywhere. She said they made her feel like she was in different places at once. Like she could fly.

For many years Hazel lived in that shack. She loved it and maintained it as well as you could for a jobless person who lived in an abandoned shack. One day a few drunk teenagers came across Hazel’s shack while she was taking a walk in the woods with her camera. They kicked her furniture. They tore down her sheets, and smashed her ceramics. They peed on her bed and poured gas on her clothes. Maybe this could have all been forgiven. Maybe if they had left after all that I wouldn’t be writing this story. Unfortunately maybes have yet to turn back time. They burned her pictures. They took each one and torched it in the flame of a lighter. Such a small flame and yet, it did such damage. After all her pictures were a pile of charred ash and only a few colorful corners remained, they burnt down the rest of the shack. The wood charred and discarded on the forest floor. I don’t know Hazel’s reaction to this. I don’t know what she did when she came back and witnessed what had become of her beloved home and her treasured pictures. She might have cried and cried. The wailing mixing with the birdsong. She might have yelled and threw whatever was left until her throat was sore. Knowing Hazel I find it most likely that she sat on the forest floor. Quiet for a very very long time.

I do however know what she did next. You see I know what happened to the shack because it was in the news the next morning. I was sitting there with my morning coffee and a cucumber sandwich halfway to my mouth when the story flashed across the screen. It was in that same news story that showed my darling Hazel, laying at the bottom of a cliff off of highway 10. She had jumped, of course, because she would never had ridden in a car. Besides there were no other debris besides her fragile body, now broken.  She was in a better place now I suppose. One positive thought to brighten the pain and sorrow that I felt. At the very end my darling Hazel had learned how to fly.

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So first let me say that this story is entirely fiction and made up. The names are made up, the highway is made up. Even the cucumber sandwich is made up as I’ve never had one in my life. This started as a story to a picture writing prompt that showed only some bare wooden trees. I started out with a very different idea but I definitely like this one better. Please let me know what you think! Thank you very much.

The Sun Is Failing

So I decided to follow a writing prompt generator found here:https://thestoryshack.com/tools/writing-prompt-generator/.

Below is my writing prompt details that I was given and under that will be my story. Thank you and I hope you enjoy it!

  •  Word count: 550
  •  Genre: Fairy Tale
  •  Character: A repairman
  •  Material: A mysterious liquid
  •  Sentence: “You will take the fall for this.”
  •  Bonus: The Sun is failing.

 

The Sun is Failing:

It had been a long hard day at the workshop. Leprechauns kept paying him in fake gold for their expensive repairs and he couldn’t ban Leprechauns from his shop because of that blasted Fair Creatures Act of 2200.  Jack started his walk home after work and tried not to think about tomorrow when he’d have to explain for the fiftieth time that, no he wasn’t THAT Jack, and he didn’t have any idea why the beanstalk had popped up in the middle of town and if magic beans were to blame. He was fine with magical creatures, fairy tales, and even the bubble gum river some amateur wizard has created in his backyard. Lately though, everything seemed to be getting out of hand. The centaurs wouldn’t come out of the woods and the fairies were tired of low flying vehicles getting in their way. It was enough to drive any human crazy. Finally home Jack settled in with his modest dinner of bean soup and turned on the news. The beautiful blue sprite that Jack always rushed home to see was already done with her news and had switched over to Temple, the elderly gnome who hated his job. Jack just caught the end of his news story.

“…Well folks, it seems as if the sun IS indeed failing. The city council assures us it has their best people on the job but so far, nothing seems to be working. Back to you Sunder.”

Jack barely even paid attention as the blue sprite came back onto the tv to talk about the unicorn showing. The sun was failing? How could that be? In the millions and millions of years the Earth had existed, the sun had never failed. Why now? Shaking his head and wondering what the world was coming to, Jack washed his bowl and went up to bed.

The next day was even weirder for Jack. Sure no one asked him about any beanstalks which was a definite improvement but all anyone could talk about was the sun. He heard countless theories from his customers about what the cause could be but they all seemed as unlikely as the last. The Alien community had been peaceful for a century now and vampires had declared their annual slumber weeks ago. All the usual culprits of big crimes were in the underground lockup and, with the new dragons in place and the trolls finally armed, they weren’t likely to escape.

It wasn’t until well after lunch when Jack heard something that caused him to take pause and listen. Two old hags were walking past when he overheard their conversation.

“I heard it was that beanstalk that popped up in the middle of town. The thing is so high that its poking into the sun, and there’s a mysterious green liquid that’s been pouring down the beanstalk” , said the hag with the crow hat.

“I don’t know, there hasn’t been a beanstalk that size in ages”, exclaimed the other as they walked away.

Jack sat as his workbench pondering this for a moment. Could the beanstalk have something to do with the sun failing? It seemed unlikely a beanstalk would reach that high and even if it had, wouldn’t it just catch fire? He shook his head and started packing up his tools for the day. He decided it was time to have a talk with Kiwi, his old friend.

Walking downtown always made Jack feel a little uneasy. Sure the Orcs hadn’t attacked recently and the relations between Orcs and humans were getting better, but humans still weren’t that welcome in the downtown area. Here the Fair Creatures Act had been ignored but humans were targeted with buildings everywhere bearing signs that read, “No Admittance to Humans.”

Finally getting to the old brick building, Jack knocked on the wooden door until he heard steps. Finally the door was opened to reveal Kiwi, an elderly elf who had become a hermit in his later years. He was one of Jack’s only non-human friends after they worked together in a factory for many years.

“Jack! It’s so good to see you! What brings you to these parts?”

“Hello Kiwi! I wanted a word, might I come in?”

“Of course, of course. Come right in!”

Jack followed Kiwi in and shut the door behind him. The room had dirt and grass on the floor with plants growing in every spare place they could be put. Kiwi was a wood elf and filled his home with the forest wherever he could.

“So Jack, what did you come to talk about? I haven’t seen you in ages!” exclaimed  Kiwi.

“It has been quite a while with work and the Leprechauns are back at their old tricks during this season. Actually I came to talk about the news recently Kiwi, the sun is failing!”, Jack said, surprised Kiwi didn’t know.

“No! I hadn’t heard without tv, and you know I’m not much for visitors. Do they know what’s causing it?” inquired Kiwi.

“Well everyone has their speculations, but no one knows for sure. I heard an interesting bit of conversion today though that has me thinking. Two old hags were walking and discussing that maybe it was the beanstalk that sprung up in town recently. No one knows where it came from and I thought perhaps with your knowledge of them…I know you’re reluctant to talk about when you dealt in beans but, it could be of some use. Can they really grow that tall Kiwi?” Asked Jack, still in shock over the rumored height.

Kiwi was quiet for some time, as he didn’t like to talk about his life before moving to the city and settling down. Finally he nodded slowly as if deciding he best impart some wisdom.

“Yes Jack, they can indeed grow that tall. Taller even. One was rumored to reach the heavens in the olden days. I suppose it is entirely possible one is causing issues with the sun. They are flame-proof you know, and grow very well in bright light. The sun has been flickering as of late. I suppose I should have known the rumors, even here in the dregs of town, had some truth to them.”

“Wow”, whistled Jack, “flame proof…are they indestructible Kiwi?” he mused.

“No, no nothing like that. They can be chopped down just like any ordinary tree. The bean juice that they’re filled with keeps them safe from flame since they flourish in bright lights.”

After this Kiwi was silent for a while. Finally he looked at Jack with calculating eyes.

“We both know who your great great grandfather was Jack, but you don’t have anything you must live up to. I’ve never said a word and no one even knows your family existed in anything but a fairy tale. Beanstalks are dangerous. Not the stalk itself but what it can draw to the town and to the one who destroys the beanstalk. You know the giants have never signed the peace treaty and wherever there is a beanstalk a giant is far from trouble. Please don’t go looking for trouble Jack.” pleaded Kiwi.

“No I suppose I shouldn’t.” mused Jack. Though even then he was considering how hard it could be to cut down a beanstalk. He could win the town’s affection, charge better rates. Move out of his rickety shack of a home. Kiwi must have seen the look in Jack’s eyes because he said next, in a warning tone.

“Your great great grandfather may have saved the town Jack, but he’s also the one who planted the magic beans in the first place and brought them to this world. DON’T get involved Jack, you will take the fall for this whole situation if you do.”

Jack nodded his head in agreement and headed off back home. He was sure Kiwi was right. Getting involved would do more harm than good and really there were plenty of other young men who could cut down a beanstalk. Still, he wondered as he neared his home, it would be nice to afford a new cow.

*****THE END*****

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Well I went over my word limit lol. I decided not to completely finish the story with the sun getting fixed. I like the allude to the cow in the original fairy tale and I think I like this ending. If you really want me to make a part 2 let me know in the comments section! I hope no one was too bored with the long dialogue. I’m more used to writing poetry and I’m still struggling with short stories a bit. Look for more to come and thank you again for reading!

The planet was her spouse.

She awoke, at what time she wasn’t sure. She floated to look out the window of the spacecraft. There it was, spinning slowly and gracefully, huge and blue, with stripes of grey. One lone teal ring orbiting around the planet. She admired it for a few moments more before heading to the small kitchen for a coffee.

As usual the coffee was stale and the air had the same filtered and artificial quality to it that it always did. She went back to the middle of the cabin and got her helmet on before proceeding to the spacecraft door. She waited in the chamber for the cabin to pressurize before exiting into outer space, her suit attached to the spacecraft. She floated as close as she could safely get to the planet. Gazing with love and admiration. It was 2080 on Planet Earth and they had become so progressive that you could marry anything you wanted basically. Even if it was already married, or not even alive. She had married this planet. It was 20 years ago now that she had become an astronaut and taken her first trip to outer space. As they went through their mission and were heading home, they had passed her planet. It was love instantly. The colors spinning on the surface, the wind gliding in the planet’s orbit. So she had gotten married to it and now she spent several weeks up here every year. She would love to spend more time up here but unfortunately it was too dangerous for the human body to be up in space for that long. Last time she had stayed a week past when she was supposed to come back and was threatened with losing her traveling privileges. She could visit more if she lived on Mars with the rest of her family, but she loved the natural air and green grass on Earth and the crisp ocean water on her skin.

As the spacecraft drew around the planet she turned on the gravity in the cabin, took off her clothes and laid in front of the window. Craving some personal time with her spouse before she had to head back to Earth tomorrow. The planet where she would never truly feel at home.

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I’m in a writing kind of mood today so I went on a writing prompt generator and the writing prompt was the same as the title of this post “The planet was her spouse.”

Let me know what you think and if you’ve written any short stories that you’d like me to read please let me know. Thank you!