October 2009

The flying monkey screamed over the top panel of my cube and landed in a blissfully silent pile in the corner.  I sighed as Matt jogged in and picked it up.

“Sorry, Chris, I know you hate this thing.  I’ll try to keep it out of your cube.”  He flashed me a grin and went back to slacking, confident that the boss was safely in Chicago.

I just rolled my eyes and went back to work.  Yeah, it was Friday, but some of us actually liked to get work done during work hours.  Funny, I know.  The monkey screamed through my airspace again and I suppressed a shudder.  It would be an act of kindness for everyone in the office if that damn monkey was lost, never to be found again.

“Matt!” I yelled as the monkey made a third pass over my cube.  “Go play somewhere else!  Some of us are trying to work.”

Matt’s head poked into my cube.  “Chris,” he whined, “it’s Friday.  Come have some fun with us.  We’re having a contest to see who can shoot this,” he held up the flying monkey, “the farthest.  The best route goes right over your cube.”  He gave me puppy dog eyes.  “You don’t want to ruin my turn, do you?”

Matt was adorable and he knew it.  He had all of the women in the office wrapped around his little finger, myself included.

Writing prompts:  monkey, kindness, panel

The city was a dangerous place at night.  Ever since the vampires had violently come out of hiding nearly a decade ago even the most hardened criminals took shelter behind blessed steel doors once the sun set.  The few stragglers that hadn’t quite made it home when darkness descended were never heard from again.  The sunset curfew was the law but most people only obeyed it because it was meant to save their lives.

It started in Paris.  After millenniums of hiding in the shadows, the stuff of myth and legend, vampires were forced abruptly into the light.  It is still unclear what caused the vampires of Paris to go on a rampage that cool April night.  They hunted without regard to hunger or need.  Humans were killed by the thousands as they sought to flee.

Traditional weapons did very little damage to the vampires and the city was declared a total loss after a month of trying to fight back.  Only a master vampire could create new vampires but even the oldest of the species had succumbed to insanity and began creating vampires at an alarming rate.  The Council sent in a team of their best warriors to take care of the problem but even they never returned.  Finally, fearing the insanity would spread, Paris was destroyed.

Vampires seemingly disappeared but the humans knew better.  They began developing technology so any future wars would not end the same way.  “Vive la Paris!” became the war cry around the world.  Any vampires caught were turned into lab rats and were subjected to a barrage of tests.  Curfews were enacted and people were told to arm themselves with silver and blessed crosses.  Those who could afford it had their dwellings blessed by a priest.

However, there were a few who ignored the warnings and the curfews.  They came and went as they pleased, to hell with the consequences.  Some of these people thought it was all a government scam.  They generally lasted only a short time before they disappeared.  Others were the wannabes.  These were the disillusioned souls who actually wanted to be turned into vampires.  They too disappeared quickly, though it was unknown if they got their wish.

And finally, there were the hunters.  These were the brave few who decided to stand and fight rather than cower in the darkness.  They generally worked in teams and left the safety of their compound armed to the teeth.  These were the only humans that returned, night after night.

Writing prompts: city, loss, vampire

The laptop snapped closed with definitive click. The restaurant guide I was working on for Seattle was nearly complete. I often said I had the best job in the world. I would go to a new city, eat at the best restaurants, and then write about my experience. Travel, food, and writing–three of my favorite things all wrapped into one fantastic job that I was paid to do.

I tried to integrate everything into my review–the food, the atmosphere, and the nameless element that gave each place its own unique flavor. I wanted to draw the reader into each piece she wrote. I wanted the readers to experience exactly what I experienced, so that even if they never visited the restaurant, they would be able to live vicariously through me. And if they did visit, well, I wanted to ensure they would know what to expect.

Luckily I never really had to write bad reviews. The class of restaurant I reviewed was always outstanding.

Writing prompts: laptop, guide, integrate

The chime attached to the door rang softly, alerting me that someone had entered.  I glanced at the clock and saw it was just five minutes to closing.  I sighed as I put on a smile and moved to greet the customer.  A warm reception made the customers more likely to buy something and return later.  However I was still hoping that this would be quick.

“Hello, sir, how may I help you?” I asked.  He was tall; taller than me and I’m a tall woman.  I felt dainty standing next to him, a feeling I don’t get very often.  Without my heels, my head would probably just reach his chin.

He had a classically handsome face–strong chin, full lips, straight nose, and dark gray eyes.  His eyes were what captured me.  Such an unusual color meant he definitely had some magic in his blood, but they were so cold I physically shivered.  This man was up to no good.

Finally, he spoke.  “Where is your destruction section?”  His voice was deep and rolled over me in a wave.

“I’m sorry, sir.  This is a white shop, we don’t carry such things.”  Destructive magic, charms and potions included, took quite the toll on both the creator and the user.  It just wasn’t worth it to me to take such a risk with my soul.  Plus, destructive magic was closely controlled and monitored by the government.  Unauthorized use was highly illegal.

“Come now, I’m sure you have something.  I’m quite willing to pay whatever you’re asking.”  His tone had taken on a slight edge of menace.

“Sir, I promise you, there is no destructive magic here.  There aren’t any secret rooms or hidden panels.  I use and sell white magic only.  You should try Reynold’s place in the square.  He’s licensed and sells all types of magic.”

Writing prompts:  chime, reception, destruction

I quietly sipped my tea, hoping the caffeine would boost my energy enough for me to make it through the rest of the day.  I was falling asleep at my desk and that wasn’t good for two reasons.  One, while my job was boring and meaningless, it still paid the bills.  If my boss found me sleeping then I’d have to find a new job.  The second was that I had a certain amount of work I needed to get done today and sleeping was not getting it done.  I had absolutely zero desire to stay late, so the caffeine had better work.

As an aspiring author I thought an editing job would be a dream come true.  Granted it was for the local paper rather for a big publishing house, but I figured editing was editing.  How wrong I was.  I spent my day reading drivel–poorly written drivel.  All day I changed their to they’re or two to too.  It was no wonder that I was falling asleep.

The tea leaves in the bottom of my cup made an interesting contrast against the creamy porcelain.  I briefly wondered what the leaves would mean to someone who could read them.  Was my life getting ready for a big change?  No change at all?  A tragedy or celebration?

I realized that I had once again drifted away from work.  A sigh slid through me.  I really needed a new job.  This one was killing what little creativity I had.

Writing prompts: author, energy, tea