anke

Originally published at ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.

Setting: ?
Genre: Fantasy
Summary: Grey has seen better times, and is loathe to waste what little he has.
Notes: inspired by a prompt from Thimbleful Thursday
Words: 96

Originally published at ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.

“It was your idea!”

“I was kidding! You bought it!”

“You could have said, but you went on about cooking it!”

“You tried to put it in the pot, it’s your fault!”

“I don’t care. You two will clean the octopus ink off the ceiling together while I take the poor dear to the zoo.”

So, I'm attempting the April A to Z challenge, with fiction with at most 100 words. "B is for Blame Game" came from Royce Day. C is written, too, but if you have prompts for later in the alphabet, please give them to me.

In Katie’s garden everything grew. She first put this to a test planting jelly beans, being rewarded with a miniature tree bearing sweets. Post-it bookmarks grew into a plant with rectangular leaves in neon colours. An USB stick buried sprouted small chips covering the ground, moss-like. A pin was a seed for a silvery bristling cactus.

Everything grew, bigger every day, until there was hardly any room to move left. The plants were starting to spread beyond the boundary.

Katie planted a coal. It brought forth fire, blooming brilliantly.

What would YOU plant in such a garden?

Originally posted at  ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.

Elin dismissed her familiar spirit of years. She was sick of the ghostly cat coughing up lumps of ectoplasma on the carpet, or leaving half-eaten imps on the doorstep.

Surely summoning a dog would be better.

When the dog brought home an unscathed imp that wrecked the living room before she could dismiss it, she realised she should have made sure not to get a retriever.

Originally posted at ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.

Marilyn tidied up the appartment under a thundercloud, wishing Matt would die in a fire rather than come back, until she walked through the hall with a bottle of india ink in her hand. He had left his best-beloved suede jacket on the coat rack.

This was much better. She would hear him scream.

Originally posted at ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.

Elsa knew from experience that drowning in a storm wasn’t pleasant, but she couldn’t do anything to save the crew of the latest shipwreck. She had tried to warn them, but instead of listening, they had panicked. So, she sat on a rock that was mostly higher than the waves, and, rain falling through her, sulked.

Maybe someone would survive. Maybe at least a couple of rats. Or someone else would stick around after death. That kind of company would last longest.

Maybe I should start trying to sink ships…

Originally posted at ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.

To test a theory, Harriet built a catapult to throw sticks into thunderstorms. She carefully noted what happened to each – usually only the place where she found it again, rarely that it had been hit by lightning, in which case the result usually was a charred stick.
Finally a success: One came back with toothmarks.

Originally posted at ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.

On a walk along the edge of the woods, Manuel took a deep breath, and sighed. “You could almost imagine we were the only people in the world.”
Jessica politely refrained from saying that she could see airplane exhaust trails and hear cars – and that tarmac paths didn’t grow naturally. She found civilisation reassuring, nowadays.

Originally posted at ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.

The house was hers, and everything in it. Six generations of family history, both metaphorically, and in the form of mementos in the form of register, photos, some diaries, books, and all the suitcases, clothes, crockery, and other things someone at some point didn’t use anymore, but didn’t want to throw away, either.
She wanted to burn it down, get rid of all that weight.
Alas, that was impractical. And there might just be something interesting among all that stuff. Sorting through it would take ages.

Originally posted at ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.

“Ah, finally we can talk in private, just you and me.”
Daaren carefully kept his face blank. Counting two guards and three servants in the room with them, who did not seem about to leave, he concluded the Baron must be completely insane. Better not to irritate him.

Originally posted at ankewehner.de. You can comment here or there.