I'm doing the prompts according to how much time I have, so they're going to be out of sequence in datestamp, but I should be able to keep the story coherent. Well, as coherent as it's been so far....
The charm "My, you're a charming young man," said the middle-aged woman running the store's checkout. "It's so nice to see a young man neatly dressed and smiling for once, even if you are carrying a toy gun." "Thank-you," said Death, lifting the neon pink nerf gun and shooting her with it. "I keep telling the others that it's all in the charm."
To fulfill his request for some means of warning, the Whisper Poet had produced a small sand dollar—only slightly bigger than a gold piece; weathered and notched eighteen times around the edge; the holes threaded through with silk thread; and the faint fanning around the center looked like the seven-pointed star of the Sisters, if you looked at it very closely.
Even now, far away from that strange warlock and the peculiar songs their presence inflicted, Qaz swore he could feel the thing buzz in his hand, stirring with the chill humidity that lingered around the water at night—still, he wore it on a cord around his neck under his shirt. He knew this was supposed to warn and help him should any of his unfriendly past decide to come looking for him—he wasn't sure what that meant, exactly, but he figured he'd know once it happened.
He was even less sure what he'd do in response to that warning, or indeed what to do should the others get caught up as well.
3 comments:
I'm doing the prompts according to how much time I have, so they're going to be out of sequence in datestamp, but I should be able to keep the story coherent. Well, as coherent as it's been so far....
The charm
"My, you're a charming young man," said the middle-aged woman running the store's checkout. "It's so nice to see a young man neatly dressed and smiling for once, even if you are carrying a toy gun."
"Thank-you," said Death, lifting the neon pink nerf gun and shooting her with it. "I keep telling the others that it's all in the charm."
To fulfill his request for some means of warning, the Whisper Poet had produced a small sand dollar—only slightly bigger than a gold piece; weathered and notched eighteen times around the edge; the holes threaded through with silk thread; and the faint fanning around the center looked like the seven-pointed star of the Sisters, if you looked at it very closely.
Even now, far away from that strange warlock and the peculiar songs their presence inflicted, Qaz swore he could feel the thing buzz in his hand, stirring with the chill humidity that lingered around the water at night—still, he wore it on a cord around his neck under his shirt. He knew this was supposed to warn and help him should any of his unfriendly past decide to come looking for him—he wasn't sure what that meant, exactly, but he figured he'd know once it happened.
He was even less sure what he'd do in response to that warning, or indeed what to do should the others get caught up as well.
Greg - I hope Death never loses that toy gun. I love that image. So much.
g2 - really like your description of the charm. Did I see a picture of it today on Facebook? I'm pretty sure I did.
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