prompt: asphalt, thunderstorm, chocolate

Rain hit the asphalt in an unrelenting staccato rhythm that meant many things, but mostly it meant Francine would be late. Again. Marc let the curtain fall over the window as he retreated back into the living room in defeat. 

It’d been so long since he’d last seen her chocolate eyes. 

From his well worn spot on the couch, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, allowing himself a brief moment to remember the way her eyes would lighten to amber under the afternoon sun. Recalling the memory was simple enough, but the onslaught of emotions that accompanied it had never been easy for Marc to bear. 

Instead, he opened his eyes again, fixed them on the television, and waited. 

prompt: heaven, broom, car

Katie pulled her thumb out from between her teeth, because this was important. “I promise you, Jessie. Promise, promise.”

Suspicious blue eyes narrowed. “You’re wrong. I saw it, brooms can definitely fly.”

“You saw a movie–”

“And went on the ride!”

“That was all fake. Like when that car flew in that other movie.” Katie continued explaining, but Jessie still sat on the broom, looking over the edge of the couch that they really shouldn’t be standing on. She was still about to jump. 

“That’s different,” Jessie countered. “Cars have roads, what do brooms have?”

“Floors!”

“Well then if I crash into the floor, it won’t be that big of a deal.”

“For the broom and the floor, but for Jessie–?”

But Jessie didn’t hear or didn’t care, instead she jumped. Then, there was a short scream, followed by a crash. 

“Told you so.” 

Jessie groaned, pulling the broom out from under her with one hand and rubbing her head with the other. “I think I saw heaven.”

prompt: envy, doll, gondola

  • envy doll gondola

The curve of her cheek reminded Sarah of a doll, plump and perfect. Even from high above, as she leaned against the stonewall of the bridge, Sarah could clearly see the dusting of freckles and the press of a dimple when the doll laughed. Her laugh chimed like bells along the canal; the surly gondola driver had even cracked a smile. All eyes were on her, and Sarah wanted to be her, even though she knew nothing about her, not even her name.

There was a young man in front of the doll-like beauty, and even Sarah knew his interest far outweighed the woman’s. He didn’t seem to mind. With each long pull of the gondola paddle, the world revolved around the woman, and her plump and perfect cheeks. 

Sarah pushed away from the stonewall of the bridge, just enough to brace her palms on the top of it and hoist herself over its edge. Into the air, it was like time suspended for a moment as Sarah hovered over the gondola. Then there was a thunk as her body hit wood and a series of splashes. The doll wasn’t perfect anymore.